Chapter One: Curse of the Colt A fiery colt strode through the pastures. It glossy white coat shone back the rays of the sun. It had out-ran all the other Charolts and Ponytas. Both species were closely related. They looked nearly identical as colts. However, when Charolts evolve into Maflares or Philares, their coats become a honey-red auburn and their tail and mane turn from red to black. Charolts are only found on the island of Hokkou, which about one-hundred years ago split from the country of Japan into a more European state. Meanwhile, Ponytas can be found almost anywhere on Earth. This colt was called Blaine. Some kid that had saw him on the day he was born, only four months ago, must have liked the Cinnabar Island gym leader from Kanto. What did Kyle O'Brien care, though? Connor, his son, could rename him anyway. Sporting a black leather jacket, Kyle coaxed the colt towards him. He quickly, yet gently, grabbed a pokeball with two blue stripes on a field of red. "Return, Charolt," he whispered. The colt was gently sucked into the aura of red light that the ball had emitted. Kyle was flooded with memories: of his journeys, of his pokemon, of his first love, and of his boy as a young son, now at the age of thirteen. He hoped his son would have the same memories he did. Placid pools of water stood calm in the gardens that sat in front of the house. The lush greens hedges, bushes, and vines intermingled with the indigo, cobalt, crimson, and gold-colored flowers. A large tree sat in the middle of it all, its leaves colored a fiery crimson-pink. The garden seemed to swing out as it grew closer to the house, revealing a carefully laid brick foundation. On top of that were more and more layers of red and brown colored brick. The wall stood high, flowing to the two corners. On top of the brick wall was a brass tiled roof. The house could be seen as far back as the eye could go. Behind the front roof was another, another stood behind that, even higher. Far beyond these roofs a high tower poked out of the rest of the house. Kyle O'Brien's shiny black Cadillac, with elegantly curving roof and classy front hood, was greeted by the lush green hedges and worshipped by the short, colorful flowers. Walking into the house, Kyle exclaimed, "Honey, I'm home!" He handed his leather jacket to the butler and gently laid down the precious pokeball on an oaken table. "Good afternoon, Master O'Brien," the butler said cordially. "Did you enjoy your stay at Appleton Acres?" "Yes," Kyle O'Brien replied. "Where would he be?" "Out in the back garden," the butler answered, "reviewing the Pokemon Journey Academics Test." "Good," Kyle said, making sure the pokeball was in hand. Running out of the entry way, he rushed through the house. He ran down a hall towards a large sliding door. He passed two doors, one on each side. These two doors were entry to Connor's room. To the left was a large entertainment room. To the back was a large flat-screened television. Blue leather couches faced the television in a u-shape. To the right was a large basketball court. Connor was one of the best basketball players in his school, Rio Grande Heights Academy. He was also one of the smartest. Both rooms had stairs leading up to his bedroom and computer room, as well as an old toy room. The next two rooms were Kyle, and his wife, Cindy's, rooms. Once again, to the left was an entertainment room. To the right, however, was a large room with separate habitats for each of the couple's pokemon. In the middle of this room was a large battle-court. Both Kyle and Cindy were gym-leaders. Kyle was the leader of Rio Grande Valley gym, while Cindy resided over Rio Grande Ridge gym. Currently, Cindy was the official gym leader, but that could change any year. All Kyle, or any of the other ten gym-leaders in Rio Grande City, had to do was beat Cindy and then qualify as one of the twenty-one official gym-leaders in the region of Hokkou. All twenty one official gym badges had to be obtained to qualify for the National Cup Tournament. All twenty states also hold tournaments, in which a trainer needs to obtain a predetermined number of badges from gyms within that state to qualify for that tournament. The Elite Trainers Organization, a group of gym-leaders and pokemon trainers that were elected and given power to govern the National Cup and State Cup tournaments, had also recently added a Region Cup format. In this format, trainers had to obtain all official gym badges in that region, as well as an additional badge from each state. Kyle wished his son to challenge both the regional format and national format. Kyle reached the door and threw it open. Rows and rows of gardens spanned towards the horizon. Green could be seem almost everywhere, except for where an occasional Japanese rock garden or pond or statue gently sat. The gardens were every design and came from every place on the world, at least all that could survive in the coastal climate of Rio Grande. Some came from South America, others European. Most were of plants, trees, and flowers, but some where rock gardens or statue patios. Beyond the rows and rows of gardens, which were clearly divided with hedges, lay a large lawn. Daily trimmed, the lawn was always beautiful, even when the rare snowfall came to the region. Looking around, Kyle walked through a vine garden, around a Kantanese rock garden, past an Arizonan desert garden, and through an area with monolithic sculptures of colorful candy. He walked into a small, cozy garden, hemmed in by bright red brick fences. A patio was in the center, while rows of lilacs, roses, and tulips adorned the sides. "Good afternoon, father," Connor said coldly. He stood up to greet him, stiff as a board of wood; he was always like this, so cold and masked. Perhaps it had been of his sheltered, almost prison-like upbringing, or maybe it was just a habit he had fallen into. The only time he unmasked himself was with his friends. His jeans were the color of the sky, while his sweatshirt was colored a dark orange with bleach streaks here and there. "Good afternoon, Connor," Kyle replied cordially to his son. All his life, Kyle had been of the high class. He had been taught to speak, stand, sit, dance, train, catch, run, jump, hide, play, kiss, sleep, and treat others of both higher and lesser value, maturity, ability, intelligence, and class as a noble would. Just like its northerly neighbor Japan, Hokkou didn't have nobles. The only place those could be found was in England. However, if Hokkou did have those of nobility, Kyle would have been one of the best. "Now, about that test…" "You have done very well, my son," Kyle said approvingly. "Your journey begins tomorrow. You are well prepared, I presume?" "Yes, father," Connor replied. "Grand. Your mother and I had planned to give it to you at morning brunch. Since you have excelled, however, I shall give it to you now." "Great," Connor said less coldly, "what is it." "Well, following the O'Brien family tradition…" "No," Connor whispered sadly, with a hope still lingering in his mind that it would not be what he though it to be. "Connor, please do not interrupt your father," Cindy said. "Thank you, Cindy," Kyle said, glaring at his son. "Returning to what I was saying, following O'Brien family tradition, I have obtained for you a well-bred Charolt from Appleton Acres. "No," Connor whispered, "No, No, NO!" Connor slammed back his chair and stomped away into the house. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ If anyone in Rio Grande Valley was angrier that Connor O'Brien, it would have been Ash Ketchum. He glared at Max, who was relaxing on the other side of the restaurant they were in, called Slammer's Steakhouse. Max. Ash loathed him. Their battle had been terrible. Ash's Crawdaunt had been the only one left. His first three pokemon, Swellow, Sceptile and Heracross, went one and done, falling to Max's Gardevoir. His mighty Charizard, who had already defeated Max's Gardevoir and Ninetales, had been felled by one of Max's first pokemon, Vigoroth. Ash's energetic Pikachu had faired the same. Crawdaunt easily defeated the tired sloth. Max had sent out his fourth pokemon, his other first pokemon, Sceptile. The lobster and squirrel-like lizard had sparred for hours. Though Crawdaunt had a type disadvantage against Sceptile, Ash had been training him longer. Finally, Sceptile's Solar Beam had edged out Crawdaunt's Iron Defense, which Ash had painstakingly taught him. It was all over. Max hadn't even needed to use to of his six pokemon. Ash walked outside, his head down. "Ash," May said from across the street, she stood near the café. Her orange tank-top and short black skirt stood out from the masses of people that rushed through the streets on the evening commute back home. They walked into the park and found an alcove hidden by lush jade hedges and sat down on a secluded bench. May took out her Pokemon Navigator. She began to press numbers on the little key pad. "Who you calling?" Ash asked. "My parents," May replied. The PokeNav rang a dull tone. "You better not," Ash replied. He snatched PokeNav and turned it off. "Ash, come on." She looked down at her golden ring that was on her middle finger and delicately slid it off. "We got to tell them sooner or later. It's been since Kanto that you asked me." "Ya, I'll take later," Ash replied. "Come on," May prodded, laying her hand next to Ash's. "They got to know." "Not right now," replied Ash angrily. "I'm really upset about the battle I had with your bratty brother. Oh ya, I still haven't forgotten what you and Drew did at the Grand Festival in Charleston." "Ash, he's not a brat. Anyway, I though we understood this. I was trying to get to back from Misty." "And I was trying to get you back from, who was it again? Oh yeah, that bratty friend of Max, Harley." The word rolled off Ash's mouth as if he were cussing. "Which," May added, "was a sick trick by my brother." "Yes," Ash confirmed, "your bratty brother." "Ash," May said angrily, "for the last time, he is not a brat. He's just a little annoying sometimes." "Whatever," Ash added. He put his arm around her body. "Fine," May added. Suddenly, they were kissing. "Hey guys," said Brock as he walked into the alcove. "I've been looking for you for forever. Oh, May, there's a former World Festival champion coming to the center at eight tonight. And Ash, they're gonna' have a Pikachu feast next week." He looked at them. "Oh, I see you're busy." "Yes," Ash replied, "center at ten tonight, right? See you there." They were kissing again. Hours later, Connor walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a donut and a can of Mountain Dew and walked down the hall and into his room. He plopped down on the couch, eagerly flipping channels to the Hakkou versus Japan Basketball World Cup qualifying match. The next day was just like any other, at least for everyone except Connor O'Brien. He paced nervously in his room. He had been so stupid yesterday afternoon. He wished he could take it back, but he couldn't. Finally, he heard footsteps. He jumped out of his room. "Listen," he said, "I'm really sorry about the way I was yesterday. I mean, I hear most of the kids in Africa don't have pokemon at all. And that one guy, Ash Ketchum, he was stuck with a pathetic Pikachu. And I was reading about this one guy too, he…" "Good morning, young Master O'Brien." It was only Charles, the butler. "Err - perhaps it's not such a good morning for you. Your parents wish to see you in the dining hall immediately. They have to discuss certain matters of your - err - what you will do on your journey." "Thank you, Charles," Connor replied. "And by the way, Pikachus are not all that bad." "Yes, well um - have a wonderful journey, young Connor." Connor ran off to the dining hall. "Poor kid," Charles muttered.