Book I 'To the Northern Mountains; Chapter 1: Acceptance
Book I: To the Northern Mountains
Chapter 1: Acceptance
The February snow was cool and the rain and snow was unrelenting. Jonathan Redwood III was irate due to the weather, he would not have minded had he not forgotten his coat at home as he was half way to his High School. Armored in his usual white tee-shirt and jeans, along with his brown backpack, John hurriedly made his way to Pallet Town High on the main road to the southwestern tip of the small hamlet. Pallet Town was located very close to a peninsula, and was even nicknamed by city slickers as the Peninsula Shire.
John’s High School held a Pokémon Licenses Program where he could learn to become a Pokémon Trainer, granted he passed the final exam. John had always been fascinated by Pokémon and was even more exhilarated by Pokémon when his father sent him a Growlithe egg that his Arcanine had bred. As John raced through the raining peninsula town on his way to school from his northwestern home, and down the street, passing various houses of which fellow students lived, a Pokéball bounced up and down from its position around his neck on a magnetic necklace.
A Pokéball captured and store all sorts of Pokémon, granted the Pokémon wasn’t to powerful to be able to break out from its grasp; there several different types of Pokéballs, enhanced versions, or varieties, if you will, and each had a purpose. The Great Ball was developed to be more successful in catching Pokémon then the Pokéball, the Ultra Ball was designed to outdo the Great Ball. Kurt of Johto—the district west of Kanto (where Pallet Town and the rest of this story takes place)—created many fine Pokéballs from Apricorn of Apricorn trees.
Inside this red and silver-white sphere lay a crystal that store the plasma-like energy that—when released—would rematerialize into its true form, Growlithe, the Pokémon John received for his twelfth birthday. Because John was always studying—for he was a poor student—or doing his chores on the farm, John never had much time to train his fire-type dog Pokémon (in past years he hadn’t taken his studies seriously, which lead to him goofing off most of the time). Over the past six years the Pokémon had only enough training for him to learn how to control the fire of his heart, seriously not as much as John would have liked to teach him, but his spare time was focused on studying or playing with his Pokémon. John Redwood III, at age eighteen, felt like a total dork.
Walking into the main commons of the Pallet Town High School, John noticed the commons crowded with five-hundred or so students, all of them staring at the soaking wet Pokémaster-wannabe.
“Son of a…” exhaled John, walking his squeaky and wet self to class.
John had little to no self-confidence or self-esteem. Years of bullying and torment had made him reluctant to do much of anything, unless it came to class, he’d do his best to listen and learn, or at least he had since becoming a Senior, a third year student at Pallet High. In the past John never took school seriously, but because of failing to be accepted as a Pokémon Trainer the year before—when he was seventeen—John decided to focus on improving his knowledge.
The day had not been going to well for John on this rainy February eighteenth. It was Friday, and John just wanted take his Acceptance exam, pass, and go home to sleep through the rest of the day, hoping when he would begin his journey, he would begin his life anew.
John had two reasons for wanting to become a Pokémon Trainer and travel the globe. First off, he wanted to find his father who hadn’t returned from his latest expedition from two years past, and secondly, John wanted to follow in his fathers footsteps, he wanted to be the next ‘General’ as his father, the famous John Redwood II was dubbed.
Sitting his rear end into the cramped desks of his Homeroom, room two-hundred thirty-five, John rubbed his eyes in distraught. A snide and sickly snicker came from the mouth of Zane Oak, Pallet Town’s favorite son, and the grandson of famous Professor Oak.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little John Redwood!” snickered Zane, laughing at the soaked boy.
“Don’t you have someone else to bother today, Zane?” asked John, replying to the snickering boy in white and brown, as he played with his brown hair.
“Nope, not at all Johnny-boy,” he grinned wryly.
“Listen you wry little punk, I’m not in the mood for your stupid-***ed annotations today!” shouted John, mad as can be.
“Mister Redwood I won’t have that language in my classroom!” warned Misses Jones, as she talked with other students as she waited for school and Homeroom to start.
“Yes, ma’am,” John replied, stooping down, or at least he felt like he were.
John had been someone’s lapdog for dang near his whole life, always being pushed around by those who fancied themselves superior, especially Zane Oak, he was cocky and arrogant, but during field exams, he was tough, really tough. The final part of today’s exam would be a field test, a Pokémon battle with a random Pokémon! This excited John and he had been studying all sorts of Pokémon that were them most probable to be used. Scratching his head full of jet black hair, John reached into his pocket, pulled out his lucky pen, and began to play with it in his hands, as he always did when nervous. A few seconds later it exploded on him, blackening his entire white short sleeve shirt, John’s face contorted in a sickening gesture, his lips wanting so badly to yell a specific word, but all that made it out of John’s filter (for he did not want to be suspended from the exam) was the sound of an ‘F’.
Hunched over his test paper in extreme concentration, focusing his entire being on defeating the hurdle, John and his stained shirt intensely stared down at the exam booklet. He had failed last years exam due to bad grades and lack of sufficient knowledge, and then when Zane passed, received his Bulbasaur, and then gave the boy a grand speech on his grandness, John went into solitude and studied so hard, for to long that he felt his head was going to explode due to all that knowledge, and then sew itself back up, then explode again. Zane might have just as well given John the speech again, and make him feel even more belittled. Zane had even stayed in the Pallet Town area, postponing his journey until John could catch up, but that didn’t stop the boy from going to Johto to learn from some of the best Trainers.
With the written exam over, it was finally time for John to move onto the field exam, what he really prided himself on! He gripped the Pokéball around his neck, like usual, for he did it in times of nervousness. Situated on the battle court (which doubled as a Tennis court) the thirty-two students who had signed up for this exam, waited patiently for the battles to begin. Only sixteen students would be allowed to leave Pallet Town on a Pokémon journey and one of them was going to be John, or at least that is how he figured. As the pairings were made, John was shocked to find who he had to battle: Gavin Conlon, one of Zane’s subordinates, who had not taken the test last year due to pneumonia. Gavin was considered second best at the academy, and John knew he was gonna be in for a jiffy if he didn’t get a Pokémon with an advantage to Gavin’s.
Taking a Pokéball from the metallic casing, John prayed it would be a powerful Pokémon, something John would really need to win the battle, and his license…
While the teachers and exam directors coordinated the students on what to do, Professor Samuel Oak, age forty-seven, tall, and as debonair as ever, stood watching from the sidelines, talking with assistant, Kōji Mizuki. The name ‘Kōji’ was rather uncommon and traditional due to the world having become one large shared ‘race’, if you will and most people used English names, but, ever-so, Kōji Mizuki was a good assistant to Professor Oak.
“So, Kōji, who do we have for the first round?” asked Professor Oak, interested in the pairings, he himself was once a Trainer, but now he retired to studying Pokémon.
“Well sir,” began Kōji, “It does look like Zane’s friend Gavin Conlon will be battling against John Redwood, sir.”
“Johnny?” asked Oak, rather nervous. Professor Oak knew John’s determination to become a Pokémon Trainer was great, but he had not very much luck, let alone skill, his lack of work in previous years had him fall to far behind, in fact it was his own fault for letting the boy try again so soon, one year of hard work wouldn’t be enough to claim what he should have years before, John, Sam Oak reasoned, was going to loose, horribly…
The battlefield seemed to heat up, rather fast. The intensity was overwhelming. Situated on his half of the field, John gripped a maximized Pokéball in his hand, even if full of sweat, he would not let go of it, for he knew that if he did, he would only to proving the townspeople who had no faith in him, correct.
“Alright nerd, let’s go!” snickered Gavin on his side of the field, armed in his usual jeans and hoody.
“Pokéball, GO!!” shouted all sixteen students as they released Pokémon to battle with.
The red ooze of light soon materialized itself into the shape of a bird Pokémon, a Spearow, John breathed a sigh of relief, and the Pokémon he received was rather fierce looking. When Gavin’s Pokémon materialized, though, John was flabbergasted.
The fire fox Pokémon looked on in confusion as she got used to her surroundings. The Pokémon Gavin had chosen at random was a Vulpix. John’s lips trembled for the second time that day as the ‘F’ sound dug through the filter like Sandslash through a root beer popsicle on one heck of a warm day.
Taking the offensive, the snide Gavin ordered the first move, “Quick Attack!”
As quick as lightening, the Spearow Pokémon was knocked over by the fiery fox Pokémon, only angering John as he tried to recollect himself.
“Spearow, try…um…Peck attack!” ordered John hoping for success, but success alluded him once again, and with a fierce charge, the Pokémon of fire slammed into the bird Pokémon again, knocking him to the ground.
‘Dang it, if this was Speedy I wouldn’t have any trouble, but it ain’t. Now I’ve gotta win with a Pokémon I can’t fight with, against a Pokémon I could never beat because of its Ember…’
“Alright Vulpix, time to end this, use Ember!” commander Gavin, but nothing happened, “I said use Ember you idiot!” still nothing happened.
“Son of a gun!” laughed a wry John; Vulpix couldn’t harness the fire of her heart yet! Now was his chance!! “Spearow, Fury Attack!!”
regaining his footing, Spearow began ferociously pecking at his foe; Gavin was off balance from his failed command so this was his chance, definitely!
“Um…a…” mumbled Gavin, as John and Spearow claimed victory, Vulpix was too scared to continue, and was in a lot of pain, too! Cuts and scrapes plagued her bleeding body.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, John congratulated Spearow his fine job, and returned him to the Pokéball. While returning the Pokéball to the teachers, John was approached by Professor Samuel Oak, Kantō’s most famous Professor of Pokémon. The Professor was skilled in both social events and the art of Pokémon. John saw him as a sort of hero, while others envied his greatness, and called him sarcastic and vulgar, but they were just bitter. Oak loved Pokémon, and to John that was all that mattered.
“Good work John,” Oak grinned, shaking the boy’s hand. He knew it was a fluke, but at least it seemed to improve the novice’s confidence.
“Thanks, Professor Oak,” he replied, shaking the man’s hand back, feeling a little uneasy in the presence of the legend, even when they were quite acquainted.
Professor Oak then made his way to a podium, and announced the results of the exams.
“First off, allow me to thank everyone for their participation in the Acceptance exams, those who passed will embark on the greatest parts of their lives. Now, if I might announce the results…” Oak was handed a sheet of paper and after analyzing it for a moment he realized John was ranked sixteenth, Oak was surprised, but glad the boy would be able realize his dream, at last.
“John Redwood III, sixteenth place.”
John was frozen cold, he made it, it didn’t matter he was in last place, not one bit—to him at least—taking a breath, John celebrated with a shout.
“BANZAI!!”
There was a strange air in the room, but Oak only smiled as the boy walked off in triumph. Professor Oak hoped the experience of a journey would improve the boy’s skill and would make him a better man. The other students celebrated in their own way as their names were announced.
“You many go home now, and prepare for March fourth, we will begin handing out Pokémon to those of you who passed. And if you filled out the forums correctly, then you should receive the Pokémon you ordered on the written exam. Thank you all,” as Oak stepped away from the podium, the sun came out, and the clouds dispersed. “Looks like it’ll be a short winter,” he said, right before returning to his office.
John raced down the main once again that day, running as fast as he could, he wanted to get home to tell his mom the good news (and to change his shirt). He was finally going to fulfill his dream, and nothing could stop him now except…
An arrogant laugh pierced John’s concentration as he ran northward to his home, turning around he found Zane right behind him.
“What do you want, Zane?” asked John.
“Just thought I’d congratulate an old friend on a job well done, looks like you actually passed.”
“So what?” asked John, angry Zane was slowing him down from reaching his home.
“Say, why not celebrate with a Pokémon battle?” Zane grinned.
“Eh?” replied John, questioning his fellow Trainer.
“You heard me, a Pokémon Battle,” he snickered, raising a Pokéball.
“I’ve not even received my starter yet and you’re already asking me for a Pokémon Battle? Sheesh Zane,” John laughed, tugging the Pokéball around his neck off of its magnetic necklace. “Sure why not?”
About five minutes later John and Zane stood in the middle of the fields that were filled with tall grasses and weeds. The entirety of Kantō was filled with snow; after all it was late into February and it was to be expected; taking his Pokéball, John threw the enlarged red and white ball onto the ground. Immediately it began to erupt as out from it exploded a red light which slowly formed into a orange puppy dog Pokémon, Speedy the Growlithe, proud of the tamed beast, John rubbed his hands together, he was still hot off from that victory over Gavin, however much of a fluke it really was.
“Is that it? Well, I guess I can’t expect too much from a failure like you,” sneered Zane.
“Go to h—” John began, but he was cutoff by Zane’s Pokéball erupting as well. Slowly the red plasma turned into a Bulbasaur Pokémon, one of the three starting Pokémon assigned to all graduating students in the Kantō district. Zane received his Pokémon a year earlier so it had much more experience than John’s Growlithe would probably have, or so John deduced.
“Shall we begin?” asked Zane.
“Sure, why not,” John grinned, the sweat pouring from his brow beginning to annoy him.
“Then I will take the liberty of the first throw. Bulbasaur,” began Zane, pointing his index finger towards Speedy, “Butcher!”
Grinning, Bulbasaur took action. Running across the field, Bulbasaur suddenly—and to John’s astonishment, tackled Growlithe to the ground, and then backed up a little, suspecting a counterstrike, and he was wise to do so, because as quick as he fell, Speedy rose to his feet and slammed into Bulbasaur too. Atop the plant monster, Speedy began biting the poisonous grass Pokémon and all the while clawing away at it too.
‘Damn,’ thought Zane, remembering his training with the monks of Sprout Tower. He must stay clam, it was absolutely essential he did so, “Vine Whip!”
Following his masters orders, Bulbasaur sprang two vines from his bulb, and lifted the fire puppy from his position on his own green self, regaining his footing, Bulbasaur—or Rancor—held the fire beast high in the air.
Unsatisfied with his ‘look on life’, Growlithe barked out three fireballs, from his mouth, at his masters command that is, but when Rancor saw this coming, he instantaneously dropped the puppy dog Pokémon down from his high position in the air high above, and dodged the fireballs of which scorched the ground below, where Rancor might’ve been had the plant not evaded.
“Crap!” exhaled John, quickly trying to come up with a new plan as Speedy dropped to the ground, sweating from the last minute change of height.
“Ha,” laughed Zane, pointing at Growlithe, “And he I was thinking only cats landed on their feet!”
“Why you,” John and his Growlithe spat, in their own dialect, each wanting to get back at Zane.
“Bulbasaur, Vine Whip!” commanded Zane.
“You shouldn’t have brought grass type to the board Zane, now you’re just asking for burn, Speedy, Ember attack one more time!”
Inhaling a deep breath of air, Growlithe triggered the ignition with in his heart, suddenly a surge of heat tore its way through the innards of Growlithe, raising his lips, Bulbasaur and his master saw a terrifying feat; the fangs of Growlithe were incredibly horrifying as they were illuminated by the fiery energies slamming their way through the puppy dogs’ fangs, burning with a sensation so strong. They wanted to burn the grass Pokémon like it was a leaf, a harmless little leaf. Raising his fangs, two fireballs quickly escaped the puppy dog’s mouth, they were so incredibly hot they even melted by grass and snow slush was right beneath them.
As the searing fireballs made their way to Bulbasaur, Zane quickly countered, “Bulbasaur, use Vine Whip to leap into the air!”
Using his sprouted vines, Rancor slammed the ground, and using the force, leaped high into the air, avoiding the searing balls of flame.
“We got!”
Suddenly understanding his master’s plan, Growlithe summoned the fire of his heart once again. Aiming at Bulbasaur, ever so high in the sky, Growlithe unleashed his largest Ember fireball ever. Grinning in over enjoyment the puppy dog unleashed a fireball the size of two basketballs, and the moment it was released, it sore and scorched through the air ferociously until it finally obliterated Rancor, or so it seemed. As something finally landed on the ground, John realized—to his horror—that Bulbasaur defended against the attack. For the third time that day, his lips trembled as the ‘F’ sound tried to escape the boy’s mouth.
Growlithe cursed in disgust, Bulbasaur’s last minute—second rather—Light Screen attack had saved his a** from defeat (and possibly death!). Outraged, he charged forth hoping to gnaw his eyes out.
“Nope, won’t do. Just WON’T do,” laughed a mocking Zane, “Rancor, use you Paralysis Powder!”
As the enraged Growlithe charged forward, Rancor suddenly opened his bulb, letting loose his Stun Spore, a series of spores that would paralyze the foe. Sadly enough, Growlithe did not know this, and gradually slowed down; he had inhaled the spores and now was immobilized.
“Growlithe, no!” shouted John, taking a step forward, but he couldn’t, Growlithe was already paralyzed, there would be nothing he could do. Still clutching Growlithe’s Pokéball, John struggled with returning him to his Pokéball or letting the fight continue.
“Razor Leaf,” commanded Zane, obviously not afraid to unleash one the most deadly grass attacks ever.
Opening his bulb, Rancor began producing leafs from his bulb. Once a flurry of leafs were out (taking only seconds to accomplish) the razor-sharp leafs dashed towards Growlithe, each cutting at him, slicing and dicing his skin. Hordes of blood escaped the fire puppy, only to John’s horror.
“Stop the fight!” shouted John, running forward as Growlithe toppled over, unconscious. Picking the fire puppy up in his hands, John realized his mistake. He had taken an inexperienced Pokémon into a fight with an experienced demon. He had failed Growlithe, not Growlithe he.
Two figures walked over to John and his fallen friend. The figures were shadowed by the brightening sun behind them, the tallest figure seemed to say, “You’ve got a ways to go,” before leaving John and his fallen friend behind, the smaller figure following the taller one. John couldn’t make any of the words out, he was confused and dazed. Sick. Dieing? He didn’t know.
It wasn’t until John stood up and looked at the sun, with his Growlithe in his arms, that he realized he was crying…
