Episode 1: Adventure Times!

A long time ago, there lived a Pokemon trainer. He was, like many others, completely average; neither legendary nor extraordinary. But, like many others, he set out with the original goal of gathering badges to compete in the Indigo League. That was his only reason, really. There was no point or desire for him to try to catch them all. That would just be silly. He wanted only the glory of winning the tournament.

Nevertheless, he went out on his journey. It was a quaint little thing, his journey. The badges, of course, came naturally. First one, then two, then eight. And while the gym leaders each presented staunch opposition, none of them prepared him for the league. By the time he entered, the tournament had already done countless cycles. It was, quite frankly, a well-oiled machine which he had no business jumping aboard.

The first match went better than expected. He won in a rout, losing only a single Pokemon – his ivysaur. Verily, beginner's luck took him only so far. His next match was a loss. It was neither a critical nor close defeat, as his opponent had lost three Pokemon to his six. But the boy was not devastated by this loss. Sporting a respectable .500 record in his first year, the boy was motivated to try again. And he did. The second year proved progressively regressive. He lost his first match. But he tried again. The boy, now becoming a man, tried this for two more years until finally stopping. Going, cumulatively, 1-4, he had not as much as come close to victory since his first one.

Upon his final defeat, the boy had not actually given up. He set out to acquire the badges again when he a met a girl. As soon as they started seeing one another, his interests in Pokemon faded. He did poorly against every leader, and had to face many of them several times. Finally, he ran out of time against Sabrina, losing a lopsided battle between her Kadabra and his Abra. His passion for Pokemon evaporated, the man settled down with his wife, had a child, and officially retired from the Pokemon scene.

Ryan was no Pokemon wizard like his father. No sir, he was a scholar. He went to the local middle school full time. It was heavy stuff. This explains, then, why he was ditching class. Noon it was, and there was not a person in sight. Ryan was walking down the road, tearing leaves apart with his little hands. It was so nice out.

Ahead of him, the path turned out from the road and onto a dirt path. He had time; he went with it. Walking down it, a queer sound came from ahead. It was like a screech, but more focused. More deliberate. Like a couple of cats fighting.

The lane curved outward into a clearing of grass, revealing several figures. Ryan squinted his eyes, blocking out the sun, as he approached them. There were two of them. Well, two humans. There was a multitude of other creatures. Ryan knew these to be Pokemon.

As previously mentioned, Ryan was no Pokemon master. He knew of some Pokemon, mostly the super common ones or the ones his parents owned. He was less attuned to the appearances of those which he had never seen before. He saw one, a Pidgey, which he could identify, but the other, a small blue creature was indiscernible from the legions of species he had only the most basic eye recognition toward.

The Pidgey took to the air. It spiraled upward before coming down again and shooting at the other one, like something that shoots fast. The other Pokemon recoiled from the blunt force, flying several feet away, before landing on its feet. It growled, baring its teeth and then lunged at the Pidgey. It showed everyone its little paws, deviously sharp, and thrust them into the Pidgey's wing. The latter cried out in great pain, brushing the creature off of it. Creating a gust attack, it enveloped the little blue thing, and twirled it around. When the dust settled, when the Pokemon landed, it was asleep… or worse. No, not really.

Ryan continued watching as the trainer returned his Pidgey to the Pokeball, and the other did the same. The two shoot hands, before parting ways; one trudging off into the grass, another back to the cobbled brick of the city. And he never saw those trainers again.

That battle was completely awesome! Ryan shook with the feelings it gave him. He had always wanted to be a Pokemon trainer, but his mother had never allowed it. He had quietly accepted her reasonless answers to his pleas for following his father's footsteps before. This was several years later, obviously. A Pokemon trainer sets out when they are ten. Ryan, being fourteen, was not in prime position to set out.

Why not? Why does the age matter so much? It shouldn't. He's smarter than any 10 year old. If anything, he would be the better choice. He had to say something. So, Ryan took speed back to his own home, a query on his mind.

His mother was home early; he heard her in her room (what she was doing was no matter to us readers, though we may guess about it). Ryan was supposed to be at school, so he made sure to tip toe quietly in. He didn't want to be yelled at, after all. Making his way to his room, he passed by his mother's Squirtle – her household helper pokemon. Ryan liked him okay, but this Squirtle had one notoriously dubious feature to his notably intricate personality: he was an unrepentant tattle-tail. Ryan crossed past the dining table, finding the Squirtle bent over sweeping. The Squirtle looked up as he came in, and a small, deviously delightful smirk came to its face.

Ryan made a frantic throw across the table, trying to grab the Squirtle before he could go tell Mother about Ryan being home early. But this Squirtle was a pro compared to Ryan. He knew. Hooky was not to be tolerated by a weasel.

The Squirtle's dexterity aside, Ryan fell over the table and crashed onto the hard floor. He let out a reflexive cry of pain which did more than enough to alert his mother that Ryan was now home. The door opened, on the far hall, revealing the face of a woman, tall and dark eyed, her long brown her sweeping around the corner of the wood by more than two feet's length.

"Squirtle, is that you?" she called out.

"Squirtle squirtle! Squirtle!" he replied, earnestly.

"Huh, Ryan's home?"

Oh my god. She speaks Squirtle. How the heck can she speak his language? Ryan thought these thoughts to himself, rightly keeping them to himself. His mother, however, was quickly walking down the hall. He would be found out.

"Ryan, what are you doing back so early?" his mother said, coming around to face him.

"Oh, hi mom. I got off early today!" replied Ryan, beaming up at her.

"You got off school early? Why did you get off early?"

"No reason…"

His mother's tone turned serious, "Are you lying to me, Ryan?"

"What, lying? No!"

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"No, we just- "

"Don't lie to me, Ryan. I'm your mother. I can tell when you're lying to me!"

"Bu- "

" No buts. Tell me why you skipped school."

"I – I don't know," He said, lowering his head, "It's just so boring."

"Now Ryan, you can't just skip school because you're bored. Everyone has to go to school."

He looked up, wide-eyed, "Not everyone. Pokemon trainers don't have to go to school."

"Th-that's what this is about? You suddenly want to be a Pokemon trainer now? I thought we went over this."

"Yeah, so what?"

"You're too old, Ryan. Besides, you don't have any ge- "

"I'll just use dad's old stuff. And we've got a lot of Pokemon here, can't I just use a couple of those?"

His mother didn't respond. She flashed a distraught look, of which he did not pick up. Among his wrecked posture, Ryan darted his eyes about. Sure, they had Pokemon. Well, there was Squirtle. Out in the back, they had a few ponds of the fish types, but those never interested Ryan. There were a slew of Doduos and Dodrios, but those wouldn't do. He'd have asked for his father's Rapidash (as that appeared the most capable warrior) if not for, when he looked up, he saw the way his mother was.

He really shouldn't have brought up Pokemon trainers and his father at the same time (let alone, alone!). But he couldn't help it. That fight had gotten to him. It was what he could have been, what he should have been. He looked around furiously for something within his vicinity, something more suitable for the current situation. He spied, of course, a single Pokemon lying on an out-window, bathing in the sun, having a riot of a time. He couldn't tell if it was Persian, but he hoped it was. Ryan flexed his arm up and pointed to the creature.

"What about that one? Couldn't I just take that one for a while? He can't be one of dad's favorites. I know dad wouldn't mind…"

"And do what?" his mother asked, incredulously.

"Well, go around and do Pokemon trainer stuff."

"Do you even know what that means, Ryan? You don't just set out on a random journey with no idea of what you're doing."

"Really?"

His mother faltered. Her son was right. That was exactly what they did. There was no denying it. Before she could answer, though, the phone rang and she carried herself out, away from her son.

Ryan sat up and crawled over to the window to see his prized pick. Ah, it would be glorious to take on the world, starting with this Persian! This was surely his favorite Pokemon (with his father's Rapidash rapidly fading out of his stinted memory). He grasped up on the padded bed lay that it had dominion over and spoke:

"Heya Persian! How've you been?"

"Aaaaaaabra…" the Pokemon let out in a low wheeze.

That's not the sound a Persian makes! Golly! It was his father's old abra. Dang it, Ryan thought. This was that Pokemon that lost him his father's final match. He didn't want that! Useless sack of something useless. Ryan stood up, irritated. He looked around for that dastardly Persian.

Seriously, not in a forced manner, Ryan's mother returned to the room.

"That was your school."

"Oh… yeah," responded Ryan.

"They've told me about your grades the past few weeks. They're terrible."

"Yeah…"

"And that is all because you have wanted to be a Pokemon trainer?"

"Uh, yeah that's right!" said Ryan, ever quick on his toes.

"Then maybe it would be good to let you clear your head and go out for a little while."

"Ah, you mean it? I can be a Pokemon trainer? Just like that?"

"It will be better for you if you saw exactly what that means. Take your Pokemon and take your things, and go out," she said in a defeated sigh, nodding up to the sleeping Abra.

"Bu-but… that's not the one…"

He glanced back at Abra. It yawned long as it squinted back in his general vicinity. Aw shucks, Abra was his Pokemon now. Ryan swore he heard Squirtle cackling behind his mother.