Daybreak in Pallet Town was remarkably charming. The morning sunlight bathed the place in a warm glow and flooded the neat, treelined streets in vivid colour. There was a leisurely waking of the townsfolk as the scents coming from the only bakery in the district wafted over rustic houses, and further past the center of town where the landmark fountain stood.

The tranquillity of this sleepy valley town had made a lasting impression on Boy, who had only been here for about twenty minutes. While he pilfered some items of clothing, a pair of shoes, and a particularly fancy backpack, he thought about the current champion and his humble beginnings here, a place so small and quaint that it would not even be on a map if not for Professor Oak and his laboratory.

Red had gained instant fame when he became the youngest trainer in history to defeat the Elite Four and the then freshly-crowned Champion, Blue. His friend and, strangely enough, also a fellow resident of Pallet Town. That such an ordinary place like this, as nondescript and quotidian as it was, could produce two prodigies in the same year was immensely inspiring to Boy.

That little tid-bit of information blew up into a sensational news story that is still raging on almost four months later. How was it possible that two pre-teen boys from a backwater village had climbed up to the highest echelons of the Pokémon League? That one of them was the grandson of the esteemed Professor Oak seemed to be unfairly fixated upon, claiming a sort of nepotism, but which promptly fell flat since the other one had no filial connection to the Professor whatsoever.

Boy absorbed all of this – the accusations flung around with the fanfare – and came to his own conclusion.

In the end, the facts, laid out bare, were the truth: Red and Blue were mentored by the Professor the moment they could stand and hold a pokéball. They both attended school and enjoyed separate extra-curricular activities, but also visited Oak's ranch often and learned about the world of pokémon from its foremost authority. They both had an inherent talent which was attentively nurtured through the years, becoming friendly rivals whose reckoning at the Indigo Plateau, in hindsight, was an absolute certainty.

But now that he was here, Boy had come to realize that Pallet Town itself had played an important part in this story, one that was slowly passing into legend as time went by.

There was definitely something about this place. Boy found himself energised by simply being here.

When he'd learned that Blue – who had been Viridian City's gym leader for all of three weeks – had abandoned his post, everyone assumed he couldn't handle the responsibility and had run home to Pallet Town and to his grandfather. He had visited the Professor, but only very briefly and had then promptly disappeared.

This naturally brought renewed interest to the whole story, and reports of his whereabouts flooded the newspapers and radio programmes. The rumour mill became so frenzied that the normally media-shy Professor had to deliver a statement at a press briefing that he held at his lab: Red, a very timorous young boy, now Pokémon Champion, did not do well with the frankly clamorous media attention and had secreted away to an unknown location. His friend Blue had gone to find him.

This rather dull explanation had deflated the newshounds somewhat, with only tabloid reporters writing factless conspiracy theories by the time Boy had managed his escape and journey to Pallet Town.

There was a sudden chill in the air.

At first, the change in temperature didn't phase him, but it gradually became so cold that Boy could see his breaths frosted over in mid-air. The townsfolk who had begun their day spoke in urgent whispers, and Boy wondered what they were saying. They seemed gravely concerned about something, and some of them were boarding up their shop windows and closing their storm shutters.

Boy found himself in the open market, where stall owners were hastily closing up shop. By now the air had become frigid, and tiny flecks of snow had begun their lilting descent. While the sun still shone brightly in the morning sky, there was a translucent, icy haze bearing down on the village.

A creeping uneasiness swept over Boy.

About the same time as these jitters settled in the pit of his stomach, Boy heard a loud crash nearby. He caught a smudge of purple in his peripheral vision, and as he turned to meet it, a smattering of wooden splinters flew right past him. Startled, he swiveled onto his back foot just as the hulking form of a nidorino charged through the spot he had barely moved out of.

His earlier feelings of trepidation were forgotten, supplanted by a strong impulse to escape the impending danger. There was no time to dwell on his luck, he needed to get to safety, fast. The pokémon was obviously in a rage, and clearing the area as quickly as possible was the best course of action.

Boy scampered away, sensing that the purple beast had rushed madly off to one side. More stalls were destroyed indiscriminately, punctuated by shouts of dismay from the townspeople as it continued its rampage through the market.

He stole a glance at the nidorino. It was still extremely agitated, and it bucked and roared even as the snowfall picked up.

Then he understood. The snow, and the feeling of apprehension.

Articuno, one of the Winged Mirages, was nearby, and it was exerting its pressure and frightening the pokémon.

Boy knew that short of putting it down or lucking out with a pokéball capture, there was nothing anyone could do about the maniacal nidorino while Articuno was around.

A cry of help came from someone close by. They must have fallen after tripping over some debris. Boy had almost reached the border that demarcated the market, and he would have continued on to safety, but he witnessed the nidorino prick up its ears at the cry and follow the sound, leaving absolute carnage in its wake.

He could not leave it alone – he immediately changed direction and ran towards the nidorino.

He grabbed a large rag that was hanging off a broken stall, and used others like it as springboards to gain height and momentum. One final jump and he was airborne, sailing over the injured person and landing on the nidorino's back. He whipped it on its side with the rag before using it as a blindfold-plus-reins, and that was enough to distract it from its original target.

Boy had not ridden pokémon in a long time, and definitely not nidorino, either. He was acutely aware of its poison quills and tried to avoid being needled, but it thrashed about wildly trying to throw him off and he was sure to be poisoned no matter what he did. His idea of drawing it away from the fallen person was a success, but he had no plan beyond that.

Somehow, he managed to hold on even as the pokémon crashed through more shops, but his grip was becoming more tenuous by the second. The rag was still covering the nidorino's eyes, but it chafed his hands and he knew it would not be long before he would be flung off and gorged to death.

Even so, Boy was steadfast. He grunted and yelled out, clutching the rag and squeezing his body tightly over the nidorino's flank, eyes shut.

"Calm down!" he roared.

The nidorino whined in response but seemed to listen, and its movements slowed. This surprised Boy, but he did not ease his grip. It jerked half-heartedly and then simply stopped.

A few seconds passed, prompting Boy to open one eye to appraise the situation. The pokémon looked exhausted, but also not frantic as it had been before. The chill in the air began to dissipate, which meant Articuno had moved on and its effect on the pokémon was weakening.

"Nidorino, return!"

There was a beam of white light, and the nidorino was there one second, then gone the next.

Boy fell ungracefully onto the ground. He let out a breath in relief and tried to stand. His legs gave out from under him and he collapsed, the poison from the nidorino proving to be too much for his body.

"Oh, dear!" the same voice said, alarmed. He heard the sound of rummaging as the old man mumbled to himself. "Ah! Here it is."

Boy felt a little prick on his leg, and felt better almost immediately. He lifted himself up into a sitting position, and looked up at his rescuer.

It was Professor Oak.

Boy sat there, speechless. As the antidote worked its way through his body and his faculties returned to him, Boy thought about how this was not how he wanted his first meeting with the famous Pokémon Professor to go. He had intended to impress the man into giving him a trainer license and a starter; failing that he would steal them instead.

But now, having been saved by him, it meant that that plan had gone out the window. He quietly wallowed in his failure, but was careful not to show it on his face.

"How do you feel, young man?" the Professor asked, genuine concern lining his face.

Boy did not know what to say, he felt almost embarrassed by his shoddy appearance. The Professor offered his hand and Boy took it, and he was on his feet and dusting his pants while his mind worked to find something impressive to say. Oak appraised him and chuckled, and waved someone over from the crowd that had begun gathering around them.

The market was completely trashed, there wasn't a stall that stood unscathed by the nidorino's rampage.

The crowd parted, and a young woman limped forward, helped by one of the townsfolk. She smiled at Boy and attempted a painful curtsey.

"Thank you for saving me," she said. "I owe my life to you. My grandfather is getting on in age which was why Ned got loose."

"Yes, it was lucky you were here today," said the Professor, rubbing the back of his head abashedly. "You averted a terrible tragedy. I apologise for putting everyone in such danger."

He looked absolutely mortified, but it quickly turned to resolution as he initiated the cleanup operation. He released Ned, whose normally-raised ears were flattened in contrition. The Professor accepted its apology and directed it to help with clearing the mess.

Boy remained silent. Receiving such praise was a new experience to him. He nervously accepted the many expressions of gratitude, learning from the crowd that the young woman was Daisy Oak, Blue's sister. She obtained a pair of crutches, and she signalled for Boy to follow her.

The people had begun to disperse, many assisting with the cleanup, and nearly all of them offered grateful looks to him as Boy walked past. They strolled in silence to the Oak house, Daisy eyeing him all the while. She had a burning question to ask, so she pursed her lips and said:

"Are you like Red?"

Boy was surprised. What? Was he like the Pokémon Champion, when he had yet to receive a starter? That was... ah, he realised suddenly what she had meant, and it was far less flattering.

"Oh! I don't mean to trivialize his condition. He's just always been so quiet and seemed to spend a lot of time inside his own mind... I suppose I do that, too, come to think of it. I don't know why I decided to connect his meekness with your own diffidence. I'm sorry."

Boy smiled widely. He knew he'd been awfully reserved, but it was only because he had not planned on spending much time in Pallet Town – get in, get a starter, get out – but now that he'd become a local hero and pretty much everyone in town knew what he'd done, it had taken a minute for him to process things. It didn't seem like such a bad thing to have a modicum of fame, and he was sure it would fizzle out by the time he reached the next town. Having Daisy compare him to Red, even from that strange viewpoint, gave his ego a small boost.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Red's muteness was a mystery all on its own, but Boy did not suffer from it in any way. He looked at her pointedly and replied:

"No, I am not like Red."

Daisy smiled. "Here we are. Please, come in."

The Oak house was completely ordinary. The façade was unassuming and plain. The interior was much the same, with a large television perhaps the only ostentatious thing in the house.

Boy commandeered the bathroom, he needed to clean up after what he'd decided to call the "Ned Event". Luckily, he had an extra pair of pants to replace the ones that were shredded by Ned. He washed up and quickly changed into a clean set of clothes.

When he got out, Professor Oak was waiting for him.

Boy waved. "Hello Professor."

"Hello!" The Professor beckoned for him to follow him back outside.

Boy hesitated for a moment, searching for Daisy. Just leaving would be rude. He called out for her, and Daisy's head popped out from behind a sofa. She was quite affable despite her injured foot, and Boy noticed it was now in a cast. They exchanged quick goodbyes, Boy wishing her a speedy recovery.

Outside, the Professor seemed deep in thought. "I believe I owe you an apology," he began, fiddling with the pockets of his lab coat.

"What for?" Boy asked.

"Well, that was very brave, what you did, but it was also very dangerous. It is quite the miracle that no-one died. If only I had reacted quicker to Ned's distress and returned him to his pokéball, my granddaughter would not have sprained her ankle and you would not have those bruises."

Some of those cuts and scrapes were the result of the altercation with that doduo, but Boy didn't think it was worth mentioning. He'd come out of that one better than it did, and as for Ned, Boy blamed Articuno for blatantly provoking the entire incident.

As much as they were revered for their awesome power, Boy's own feelings about the Legendaries were shifting. Yes, they were gods and they could easily wipe out a town or city on a whim. Articuno, Zapdos, and Moltres, known as the Winged Mirages, were worshipped all over Kanto, ironically in the hope that they would not visit and bring calamity on the worshippers. Boy questioned their motives, but kept his quiet dissension to himself. He was not afraid of them, and this latest showing of power by Articuno solidified his point of view.

"You've gone quiet again," said the Professor, breaking Boy out of his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about Articuno."

Oak nodded. "All's well that ends well. Except..."

"Except?"

"I think I know why you came to Pallet Town, young man," said the Professor, with a twinkle in his eye. "Please, sit."

They had ambled all the way to the center of town, where the fountain stood. Wooden benches encircled the area, with many-coloured flowerbeds neatly lined throughout. The bakery had resumed business and Boy breathed in the smell of freshly-made muffins. They sat down and the Professor pulled out a foldable tablet, and then chortled loudly.

"It's funny, I didn't think to ask you until now," he laughed. "It's just the nature of the town, everyone welcomes newcomers without reservation. I guess there wasn't a chance, come to think of it. So, let's start over.

"Allow me to extend my warmest greetings. People affectionately refer to me as the Pokémon Professor. Glad to meet you! Now, tell me a little about yourself."

The tablet chimed and the Professor's fingers hovered over the keyboard displayed on the screen. "Let's begin with your name. What is it?"

Boy sat bewildered. This was turning out better than he'd expected. He would receive his license and starter after all! Usually, there would be a few years of study, which he did receive, though from a place that was definitely not a school and which would not have been certified by the Pokémon League if it was one. Then there were the written tests and the final exams, which included a practical component.

The whole process of obtaining a trainer license was strict and rigorous, but it was an open secret that Professor Oak was a bit more easygoing about it than the government-run institutions from where most other trainers graduated.

He looked at Oak, who he had managed to impress quite by accident with his antics back at the market.

"Boy," he said confidently.

The Professor raised an eyebrow. He regarded Boy with a quizzical look, but seemed to drop the questions forming in his mind, at least for the moment.

"Right... so your name is Boy."

It was a strange name, Boy knew. The truth was, he had forgotten his actual name many years ago, and he had claimed the recrimination from Master, since he was often chastised, as his own. His name was Boy, and he had no desire to learn his real name. He could not even remember his parents or where he had lived before Master, and he had made peace with that a long time ago.

Professor Oak rummaged through his deep pockets and produced a small, cherry-red case. Boy looked on curiously. Oak flipped open the case, revealing a pokédex. It was much smaller than Boy had expected it to be. It was basically a dual-screen communicator with a little stylus, probably meant for note-taking and sketching.

The Professor tapped a few keys and his tablet chimed, followed by a similar ding on the pokédex. He leaned in a bit, and Boy realised too late that he was taking a photo – the flash blinded him momentarily. The Professor flipped the pokédex around and Boy squinted at the screen, rubbing his eyes.

There, in pixel-perfect focus, was his trainer license.

Boy felt accomplished, yet sublime. This was the first major step on his journey, and it made him feel invigorated. Now all he needed was a starter, and he looked eagerly at the Professor. Oak, in turn, looked sheepish.

"I am sorry Boy, but this is all I can do for you at the present moment," he said, handing the pokédex over. Boy stared at the man, stunned. "Unfortunately, the Oak Lab does not currently have any starter pokémon on hand. I understand how exciting it must be to receive your trainer license – I remember obtaining my own quite fondly – so please accept my earnest apologies.

"However, I will put in a special request with the Pokémon League for you and have it expedited. The starter pokémon should arrive in a week or two. My granddaughter has offered lodging while you wait, so do not fret. I sense that having to wait at all would be difficult, so it is up to you what you would like to do in this situation."

Boy digested Oak's words silently. It was not ideal, but he knew he had to leave Pallet Town soon, before Master caught up to him. He could not wait even a day. His plan hinged on beginning his journey as quickly as possible.

He had a license now, so he was in the system, but without a starter how would he contest the gyms and win the badges necessary to take on the Elite Four? Once he had at least one badge, he was sure Master would change his mind and there was even a slim chance that he would forgive Boy's disobedience and allow him to pursue his ambition. But he had to act fast.

For the first time, Boy felt the oppressive force of a deadline looming over him.

"I have to go," he said.

Professor Oak sighed. "Alright, I was young once, I understand. Though, I'm sure you know, you can't just walk through the tall grass alone. It's unsafe! Normally, you'd need your own pokémon for your protection. Since that isn't an option, I've prepared a small kit for you."

The Professor produced a little box from one of the pockets on his labcoat, and Boy wondered what else he had in there. He flipped it open, revealing a few items. Boy recognized them immediately, and took in an involuntary sharp breath when he realised how expensive they were. There were two Max Repels, two Max Potions, an Antidote, and six pokéballs.

The Professor noticed his mouth agape, and chuckled. "No need to look so surprised, Boy. Think of this as my way of ensuring someone of your outstanding calibre is set up for success."

That was high praise for Boy, and he suddenly felt unworthy. Master flashed through his mind, his Grand Design seeming to war with Boy's own plans now instead of being complementary.

Boy had wanted to embark on the journey to become Pokémon Champion, emulating the great trainers who had stoked a fire in him, including Red and Blue. Now, he yearned for it.

The items in the box represented a mark of support from the Professor, no, all of Pallet Town, and it brought tears to his eyes. Boy quickly wiped them away and accepted the box gratefully. He was going to go for it, even with the sense that there would come a day of retribution from Master, and he would be ready.

"Come," the Professor said, and he got up and led Boy to the edge of town. "From here, it's a pretty straight route to Viridian City. If you apply a Max Repel, you should get there safely without being harassed by wild pokémon."

Professor Oak paused, a faraway look in his eyes. Boy waited, quietly pulling out the Max Repel from the box in his bag.

"Sorry," the Professor continued, still looking out at the road. "I remember when all of this was forest. Just trees all around."

"Forest? As in, Viridian Forest?"

"Oh, yes. Back in my day, Viridian Forest extended from here all the way to Pewter City. Viridian City didn't exist back then." He smiled. "I caught my first pokémon right around there," he said, indicating a large tree a few feet away.

The Professor turned to Boy, a look of excitement on his face. "It is quite unorthodox being a trainer without a starter. It's definitely the first I've seen in my long years as Pokémon Professor. But don't worry! While my grandson isn't currently at Viridian Gym, you should still receive a starter there. Just show them your trainer license, that should satisfy his Second. And you may give me a call from your pokédex if they require verification."

Boy began spraying the Max Repel over himself. He was eager to get going.

"Thank you, Professor."

Professor Oak beamed. "When I was young, I was a serious pokémon trainer. Now in my old age I still experience that same thrill of adventure when new trainers begin their journey. Boy, your own adventure awaits! Sally forth, towards your dreams!"

The Professor's words provided Boy with the impetus to finally move forward, to forge his own path separate from the one that he had been compelled by Master to follow, for years. He waved goodbye, took his first step, then his second, and began a slow jog into the tall grass. The next town wasn't far, but the route would have been much more dangerous in the daytime without the Repel.

Boy noticed water droplets like morning dew on leaves and flowers. When he looked closer, he realised there were tiny bits of snow and ice slowly melting in the sun. Articuno. Boy sighed, wondering what could have triggered such a radical act on its part. As he journeyed through the patches of tall grass towards Viridian, he pondered on whether Professor Oak had met the legendary birds during his time as a pokémon trainer. Boy should have asked him if he had a theory about Articuno's behaviour.

Viridian City came into view. Boy's excitement grew as he left the last patch of grass and hastened towards the town entrance. He stopped at a sparkling pond and examined his reflection. He looked tired, having been up before sunrise and overcoming not one, but two risky skirmishes with pokémon. He decided to rest a short while at the Pokémon Center before visiting the Viridian Gym.

Standing outside the Pokémon Center was someone he had not expected to see so soon. Her blonde hair, tied up in a ponytail, glistened in the sunlight. It looked like she was waiting for him, because as he approached she perked up and waved at him.

"Boy," she greeted with a short smile on her face, though something passed through her emerald eyes.

"Erina! What are you doing here? Is Master here, too?" he said cautiously, scanning the area. Could he really have caught up to Boy so quickly? A sense of dread slowly took hold of Boy.

Erina's face fell. "Come with me."

She took Boy by the arm and guided him in to the Pokémon Center. The place seemed to be deserted, and Boy looked quizzically all around.

A loud wail echoed through the center. It was the sound of a pokémon in pain, and the terrible sound continued from a room somewhere behind the main reception area.

Boy thought it sounded familiar. "What is that?"

"I'm so sorry, Boy," Erina began. "I have some bad news." Boy motioned for her to go on. "Master found out about your escape, Boy. He found out, he was furious, and he..."

They entered the back room, where the wailing was coming from. The room was unexpectedly large, but the fact escaped Boy as he gazed in horror at the scene in front of him.

Sitting in a big bath was a lapras, the one that had helped him to escape from Master. The pool of water was tinged red, and the pokémon's flippers were missing, severed in some sort of vicious attack. A nurse in a pink uniform was attempting to calm the creature, to no avail.

"Master found out, and he took it out on poor Millie," Boy whispered gravely.

Millie stopped when she saw Boy. She seemed relieved to see him, and he stepped forward to comfort her.

The nurse took the opportunity to prepare a syringe with a thin, long needle. It was only for a handful of seconds, but that was enough time for the nurse to administer the sedative. Millie fell into a deep sleep within moments, Boy's hand resting on her face. The nurse waded into the bath and began treating her wounds, unconcerned with the blood in the sloshing water.

"This is awful," Boy said, shakily.

Master was extremely authoritarian, but Boy had never thought he would turn violent. The escape was his idea, Millie was blameless. He thought going it alone would be the best way to ensure that no-one but himself would be punished if things went south and his act of disobedience had stoked Master's anger. But this... this was so far beyond what he'd expected to happen.

Another thought coalesced in his mind as he reflected on the events of the past few hours, and it made his stomach churn. If he didn't escape, that doduo would not have lost an eye. And what if the reason for Articuno's display of power was in reaction to Millie being attacked by Master? Which meant that Ned's rampage in the Pallet Town market and Daisy's near-death experience were due to his actions.

This, all of this, was his fault.

Boy's heart began to feel heavier the more he thought about it. Tears welled up in his eyes and his face darkened. His forehead rested on Millie's snout as he sobbed quietly.

The nurse finished treating Millie and climbed out of the bath.

"This is about as much as I can do with what I have. But kids, listen: this Pokémon Center is ill-equipped for this sort of injury. It's a small town. I'm not even sure if the one in Saffron City could handle something like this."

She paused, grappling with what to say next.

"Look, it's unfortunate, but this lapras... is dying. Without her flippers, she can't float, much less swim. It's a shame, to suffer this much when she's so young."

"What do you recommend we do, Nurse Joy?" asked Erina.

Nurse Joy shifted uncomfortably. "Well, in cases like these... the pokémon is put to sleep. I could inject her with something–".

"No," Boy interrupted.

"But Boy, to save her from the pain–" Erina said.

"No," Boy interrupted again, louder this time. "Millie doesn't deserve this. I'll do something. I'll fix her."

He pulled out his pokédex, which elicited raised eyebrows from Erina. Boy flipped it open, intending to call Professor Oak for help. The pokédex beeped, then spoke:

Lapras, the Transport Pokémon. Congratulations, Trainer! Your Starter Pokémon has been registered!