Sprout Tower stood tall over Violet City, its weathered wood and sloping eaves whispering of an age long past. Though the modern city hummed around it, the tower remained rooted in tradition, a living monument to the wisdom of the sages who built it.

  Graisey took her first steps onto the brick-laid bridge that stretched across a tranquil body of water, connecting the city to the secluded path that led to Sprout Tower. Cyndaquil padded closely at her side, while Stars flitted excitedly above, darting through sunbeams that pierced the leafy canopy. The late afternoon sun warmed Graisey’s skin, and its golden light dappled the path ahead.

  Beneath the bridge, the water shimmered like glass, broken only by the lazy splashes of Magikarp and the playful bobbing of several Poliwag, nudging sticks and leaves along the current. A Pineco clung tightly to an overhanging branch, still as a stone, blending seamlessly into the foliage. Overhead, a flock of Pidgey took flight, their soft chirps adding to the gentle symphony of the scene.

  As Graisey walked, she passed clusters of tourists pausing to snap pictures of the tower’s striking silhouette. On a nearby bench, a young family enjoyed ice cream—parents chatting as their toddler clumsily licked at a melting cone. At their feet, a Furfrou dozed, its coat trimmed in a style Graisey had never seen before. She pulled out her Pokédex.

  Sage Trim—A Furfrou grooming style, inspired by the monks of Sprout Tower. The longer fur on its legs resembles the flowing sleeves of a sage’s robes.

  Graisey glanced up from the screen just in time to catch the Pokémon’s eye flicking open and shut, feigning sleep but no doubt hoping for a stray piece of ice cream to fall within reach.

  But there was no time to linger. She had a plan.

  Pressing forward, she reached the second bridge, where stone gave way to wood. The planks groaned underfoot, worn smooth by countless travelers before her. Along the railings, violet-colored wooden feathers faded gradually into delicate carvings of leaves—a masterful transition from city to nature. The design was no accident. It guided the eye, the spirit, from the bustle of Violet City to the serenity of Sprout Tower.

  The tower itself stood at the heart of the square, enclosed by ancient cobblestone walls crowned with violet-tiled eaves. The entrance, aligned with the bridge, was crowned by two bronze Bellsprout heads, their solemn gazes fixed upon all who entered. Within the walls, sages moved with quiet purpose, tending to the grounds with careful hands. Some swept the stone paths, while others pruned the neatly arranged shrubbery, their movements unhurried but measured.

  Above them, Stars flitted effortlessly on the breeze, his small frame carried by the gentle currents. A nearby sage paused in his sweeping, squinting up at the lively Bug-type as if measuring his energy against the stillness of the sacred space. He leaned on his broom, watching thoughtfully.

  As Graisey strode past him, her steps steady with determination, the sage turned slowly, his voice drifting into the air like a thought made audible.

  “I see you have come for answers.”

  The words snapped Graisey out of her focused trance.

  “Did you… were you talking to me?” She stumbled over her words, much like she nearly stumbled over her own feet.

  The sage resumed sweeping, unfazed. “Yes, young Trainer.” His voice was calm, deliberate. “Your stride, the contrast with that Ledyba… and the Pokémon behind you.”

  Graisey felt a flicker of self-consciousness and nearly reached for her Poké Balls. But before she could act, the sage spoke again.

  “Let them be.” He gestured slightly with his broom. “Let them play. Let them breathe the fresh air, take in the aroma of the Bellsprout.”

  Cyndaquil had stepped in front of Graisey, its tiny paws shifting anxiously, nostrils twitching. It wasn’t sure whether to be on guard or at ease. A nervous spark flickered in its flame spots, but it held back.

  The sage crouched slightly, his voice as gentle as the breeze. “It’s all right, little one.” He reached out, scratching Cyndaquil’s head with slow, practiced care. “You are a loyal companion, a brave warrior.”

  Then his gaze lifted to Stars, who had paused mid-air, observing the exchange with bright, gleaming eyes.

  “And you, Ledyba—playful, yet devoted.”

  Stars let out a delighted chime, flipping into a loop before settling onto Graisey’s head like a tiny guardian.

  The sage straightened, resting both hands on his broom. “Come, young Trainer. I want to introduce you to my Elder.”

  The gentle sage guided them towards the Elder. The pair crossed the ground floor of the tower. Its wooden floors were kept with a shiny balm, reflecting the flickering flames of the candles. Bellsprout had their feet in the moist soil paddings, neatly arranged next to to open parts of the walls. When Graisey stepped on the first flight of stairs, she then noticed the middle beam of the tower. It swung. Undisturbed. Ever changing its path. How was it possible for the tower to stand with this supporting beam shaking chaotically?

  The first floor smelled of musk, despite being well-kept. Still, Graisey was impressed by its beautiful decorations and layout. They found the Elder on the first floor of Sprout Tower. He was reading a thick book and ate a Persim Berry.

  “Yes?” He looked above his glasses, placing the berry in a bowl in front of him.

  “This young Trainer is in search of answers, my Elder.” The guiding sage folded his hand into his robe and bowed slowly.

  “I see. Why don’t you show her the first steps then, sage Harlow?” The Elder spoke with resolve before returning to his book. Sage Harlow on the other hand moved surprisingly swift and fashioned a Poké Ball from under his robe and tossed it in the air. Bellsprout landed on the floor, wobbling unsteady. Or so it seemed. But after that, nothing happened. The sage kept his gentle eyes on Graisey and kept quiet.

  Her mind storming, taking in the Elder, the movement of the sage and now the prospect of battle.

  “Cyndaquil, it’s up to us! Tackle!” The Fire-starter’s tiny paws skidded against the polished floor as it charged, squealing with determination. With full intention, he rolled his shoulder, ramming his body into the Grass-type. And then, Cyndaquil rolled to the ground. Graisey was struck, it should have been a hit. Bellsprout had spun around, its gaze upon the fallen Cyndaquil. The Grass-type kept on shaking. The sage did nothing.

  “Get up Cyndaquil, Ember, Let’s go!” Cyndaquil shook his head, unharmed, and ignited his back. Small embers erupted from its mouth, but again, the Bellsprout moved out of the way. It was almost as if the Pokémon didn’t even intend to dodge the fire; it just happened to move the correct way.

  “What is this?” Graisey spoke bitter, confused.

  “Answers.” the Elder spoke, flipping a page in his book. Graisey stood there, nailed to the ground.

  “Try… Let’s do a Quick Attack.” Cyndaquil first looked at his Trainer, but then resolved her command. Miss.

  Frustrated, it squealed a little. Graisey felt his feelings. They were not directed at her, but at his failure.

  “My child, look at the Bellsprout.” the sage spoke instructively. Graisey, and both Stars and Cyndaquil, look at the Bellsprout. It was not dancing, just unable to stand still. It looked so fragile, so firmly rooted on to the ground.

  “Now, look at the Sprout Beam,” the sage pointed towards the middle beam. It swayed. Firm into the ground.

  The sage’s voice was calm, but it carried the weight of wisdom.

  “All living beings coexist through cooperation. A Trainer and their Pokémon are not separate entities. Like fingers forming a fist, they are connected—stronger together. You command Cyndaquil, but you do not move with him. Feel, adapt, flow.”

  Graisey heard the words, but they had to sink in. She watched Bellsprout’s movements, then turned to Cyndaquil, taking a slow step toward him.

  “Stars,” she whispered. The Ledyba drew closer as well, wings humming softly.

  Something inside her clicked. She understood.

  Action. Reaction. They had been separate. Pieces, not a whole.

  “I focus on the knowledge of moves,” she murmured, the realization shaping itself into words. “On typings, on advantages. My thoughts go to the outcome of a move, not the execution of it. That’s where I let go. That’s where we become disconnected.” She placed a hand on Cyndaquil’s back, feeling the warmth of his flame spots. “But now… I know what to do.”

  She rose to her feet, a flicker in her eyes. Bellsprout swayed, ever-moving. The battle was the same as the tower itself—motion, rhythm, balance.

  “Cyndaquil, use Ember!”

  This time, Cyndaquil didn’t simply fire the attack—he moved with it. Graisey saw the fire as he did, visualized the arc of its path. She no longer just gave commands.

  She was part of them.

  And for the first time, they became one.

  As the flames were about to strike true, the sage recalled the Bellsprout.

  “That would have been a direct hit.” The Elder now stood besides the sage, “You are a quick learner. Are you ready for your next lesson?”

  Graisey nodded. “Good, then recall your Pokémon.”

  The young Trainer was then guided to the top floor. The room was sparse, its only feature a square patch of soil, framed by polished wood at its center. The breeze from the open windows carried the soft scent of Odd Incense. From up here, Graisey could see all of Violet City and beyond, the rooftops spread out like a map under the afternoon sky

  "Take off your shoes and socks," he instructed.

  The floor was smooth and cool against her bare feet, sending a small shiver up her legs as she stepped forward.

  The Elder held out a blindfold. Graisey accepted it before she stepped to the patch. When she reached the soil, it was a stark contrast—soft, loose, and cool, the fine grains shifting slightly between her toes.

  "Stand there," the Elder directed.

  Graisey obeyed, positioning herself within the soil’s frame. The scent of Odd Incense deepened as the breeze shifted. She tied the blindfold around her head, plunging her world into darkness.

  "Now, stand on one leg." She lifted her foot.

  The instant she did, she nearly toppled. The sensation startled her—not just imbalance, but motion beneath her. The swaying beam!

  “I see you can feel it,” the Elder’s voice carried meaning, almost amusement. “You are now directly atop the heart of Sprout Tower.”

  Graisey steadied herself, and tried again. She could manage, but only barely—every small gust of wind sent the floor tilting just slightly, throwing off her center.

  “Young Trainer,” the Elder spoke, his voice steady. “You fight for balance. But there is no balance. There is only change, chaos, and within that… stability.”

  She tried to focus on his words, but how could she when the whole world beneath her seemed to shift with a mind of its own?

   I played hopscotch as a kid. I even played tag on the boats!

  Her thoughts flickered. To Cyndaquil. To Stars. To her battles. To failure. And just like that, she lost her bearings and stumbled.

  A hint of frustration bloomed in her chest, tinged with something worse—doubt.

  “Your mind lingers on past, on future, on alternatives and shadows,” the Elder interrupted, his voice neither sharp nor scolding, but firm. He was circling her, she realized. His steps made a quiet, steady rhythm on the floor. “Set your thoughts on the present. Be in the now.”

  Another breeze curled through the room, grazing over her skin. The sensation grounded her.

  Graisey exhaled. Then again. She stopped trying to predict the movements beneath her. Stopped resisting them. Instead, she leaned into them. When the beam swayed, she swayed with it. Her body was no longer fighting for balance—it was part of the motion.

  Her confidence grew. She was doing it!

  The warmth of satisfaction filled her, not like a sudden spark, but like a Cyndaquil flame spot catching flame.

  "Keep at it, young Trainer. Now, slowly remove your blindfold," the Elder instructed.

  She did as she was told, her hands moving carefully. The world returned in a blinding flash of gold, forcing her to blink against the light. And then, she saw them—Bellsprout.

  Standing in the soil beside her, their slender bodies swaying in perfect rhythm alongside her.

  Graisey had become one with the moment.

  Sage Harlow brought her a fresh towel to clean her feet. Graisey sat on a bench, quiet and consumed by the experience and the feelings that swirled through her. She could not help but let go of a few tears. It was not crying; she was simply releasing her own pressure. The Bellsprout kept on dancing in the soil, several Hoothoot and even a lone Murkrow sat on the supporting beam above the patch. With the setting sun in front of her, she felt resolve. A confidence she had never had before. When she was done tying her shoes again, she felt the urge to summon her friends. Cyndaquil and Stars appeared beside her, and without a word, they all hugged.

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  With her Pokémon in tow, Graisey thanked the sages and left Sprout Tower in the setting sun. Her newfound confidence made her stride to the Pokémon Gym Challenge. It was time to enroll. Cyndaquil walked on her left side, Stars flew close to her right side. This was the first time she truly felt like a Pokémon Trainer. She knew she still had a long way to go before she was ready to face the Pokémon League, that failure would still be part of the path she had to walk. But now, she could sway with the ground beneath her, adapt, overcome.

  And there it stood. The Pokémon Gym of Violet City, harbouring the Flying-type challenge to overcome. Although it was late in the afternoon, the lights were still on. Walking the illuminated path, adorned with official Pokémon League statues.

  The metal door handle felt cool against her palm. With a gentle push, Graisey stepped into the Violet City Gym, where a fresh breeze carried the subtle tang of Sitrus Berries. The interior was small yet welcoming, its clean white walls adorned with framed photographs of majestic Flying-type Pokémon in mid-flight. Beneath the pictures, carefully arranged glass cases displayed an assortment of feathers. A row of large windows behind the counter offered a clear view of the arena outside, where the final hues of sunset painted the sky. The battlefield itself was open to the elements, with no roof to confine the elements.

  At the front desk, a young man in a League uniform—his flying goggles perched atop his messy black hair—offered her a friendly smile.

  “Greetings, Trainer! How can I help you?”

  Graisey took a steady breath, still feeling the echoes of Sprout Tower’s lesson in her chest.

  “Good afternoon, I’d like to challenge the Gym Leader.”

  The clerk nodded and began typing on his computer. “Great! Please insert your League Card here.”

  She was already holding it. With a quick motion, she slid it into the slot, watching as the rim light turned green.

  “Nice to meet you, Graisey of Olivine City!” The clerk’s tone remained cheerful as he read the screen. “I see you’ve received an official Pokédex and registered a starter Pokémon—Cyndaquil, the Fire Mouse Pokémon. Is this correct?”

  “That’s right,” she confirmed. “And I also caught a Ledyba on Route 30.”

  As if on cue, Stars buzzed overhead, releasing a faint, honey-like scent that mingled pleasantly with the berry aroma in the air. The clerk chuckled. “Looks like he wanted to make sure I knew about him.”

  His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard. “All right, next step—team registration. Have you done this before?”

  Graisey hesitated. “I… didn’t realize I had to register my team.”

  “No worries! First-time challengers don’t always know.” The clerk spun his monitor around, displaying a brief tutorial. “You can officially register your Pokémon here at the Gym, at any Pokémon Center, or through your Pokédex.” He pointed toward a terminal near the entrance. “Trainers without a Pokédex use those stations to manage their team.”

  Graisey studied the screen, nodding along as he continued.

  “Now, about the Gym Challenge itself. Winning Gym Badges proves your skill, but they also serve as your ticket into the Pokémon League. You’ll need eight badges to qualify—but they don’t all have to be from Johto. Challengers can collect badges across different regions and still enroll in the Johto League.”

  That was new information to her. “So I could, say, win four badges here and four in Kanto, and that would count?”

  “Exactly!” The clerk grinned. “But here’s the catch—once you use a set of eight badges to enter a League, they’re locked in. Meaning, if you ever want to enter again, you’ll need eight new badges. Gym Leaders track your progress, so if you challenge them again for the same badge, they'll adjust the difficulty to match your experience.”

  Graisey’s mind reeled slightly, but she did her best to keep up.

  “The only way to skip getting new badges is by making it to the top four of a League tournament,” the clerk added. “At that point, you’re ranked high enough to go straight to the Master League. No more Gym Challenges needed.”

  It was a lot to take in, but the more he explained, the more sense it made.

  “Don’t worry, you can find all this info at any Gym Terminal, Pokémon Center, and in your Pokédex,” the clerk reassured her, noting her slightly overwhelmed expression.

  She exhaled, shaking off the mental fog. “Got it. Thanks for explaining.”

  “Of course! Now, do you want to register Cyndaquil and Ledyba as your official Gym Challenge team?”

  Graisey looked down at her partners. Cyndaquil stood proud and Stars hovered expectantly. She beamed.

  “Yes. Let’s do it.”

  The soft hum of the PokéCenter’s night lights filled the air, casting a gentle glow over the quiet lobby. Outside, Violet City had settled into the hush of evening, the cobbled streets now lit by warm lanterns and the occasional flickering neon sign.

  Graisey sat at a small, circular table, gently blowing on a steaming bowl of vegetables. Cyndaquil and Stars sat beside her, each in their own way engaged in the moment—Cyndaquil fixated on the muted trailer for this year’s Pokémon League playing on the RotomTablet before them, while Stars was far more interested in stealing a bite of her dinner. With a sigh, Graisey placed a small portion onto a napkin and slid it toward the eager Ledyba, who chirped happily before munching away.

  As she stirred her food absentmindedly, she held up her PokéGear to her ear, listening to the familiar ringing. Then, at last—

  “Oh, honey!” came the warm, soothing voice of her mother. “I’m so glad to hear from you! How are you? Still in Violet City?”

  Graisey felt herself relax at the sound, a small smile forming as she glanced at Stars, who was not-so-subtly attempting to sneak more snacks from her bowl. She gently nudged the Pokémon away and spoke softly.

  “Yeah, I’m back at the PokéCenter for the night,” she admitted. “I tried setting up the tent, but, well… let’s just say Blissey couldn’t stand watching me struggle.”

  Her mother chuckled. “Good! I like knowing you’re somewhere safe. And what about that Ranger boy? Is he nice to you?”

  “Kaiy?” Graisey blinked, realizing she had barely thought of him all day. “He’s in Goldenrod right now. Had to check in with headquarters.”

  At that moment, Stars attempted to lift off toward another table, clearly eyeing a snack left unattended by a nearby Trainer.

  “Stars, no!” Graisey hissed, grabbing the Ledyba by the leg mid-air. The Pokémon buzzed in protest but, upon being met with Graisey’s stern gaze, finally settled on her head instead, wings twitching in defiance.

  Her mother’s voice softened. “So, you’re alone right now? How are you feeling, love?”

  Graisey exhaled, shifting in her seat. “I’m okay, Mom. Had an interesting day, actually. I trained at Sprout Tower.”

  There was a beat of silence, then a delighted gasp. “Oh, that sounds exciting! Did you learn something new?”

  Graisey’s lips curled slightly. “Yeah… a lot. I’ll tell you everything later, though—I think I’m getting some looks.” She caught a glance from the Trainer next to her, who had lifted a finger to his lips, and even Nurse Joy had sent her a few pointed glances from the counter.

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “How are you and Dad doing?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual,” her mother replied warmly. “We do miss you, though. Oh! Actually, we have a little surprise for you!”

  Graisey straightened, wary. “...What kind of surprise?”

  Her mother’s excitement was almost tangible. “A Pokémon Egg!”

  Graisey froze.

  “You see, the Goldenrod City Daycare Center had an unclaimed egg turn up in their facility—no idea what’s inside. And, well, I thought, my girl’s a Pokémon Trainer now! She can take care of it!”

  Graisey felt a twisting sensation in her stomach. Her grip on her spoon tightened.

  “What?” she managed.

  “The egg can be a reminder of home! A little connection to your journey!”

  Graisey’s mind raced. What if it was a Ledyba—how would she tell Stars? Or worse, what if it were a Cyndaquil? Would that make things weird?

  “I already gave them your League Card info, so they’ll hold onto it for you.” her mother added cheerfully.

  “Mom…” Graisey’s stomach dropped. That was it. It was happening. There was no way out of this.

  “Thank you?” she forced out.

  “Oh, honey, I knew you’d love it! Anyway, I have to go—your father’s having a crisis with the Oddish babies, they’re filling the room with Spore again—Oh, Dan, be careful with that—!”

  The call cut off, leaving Graisey sitting there in stunned silence.

  Cyndaquil nudged her elbow, and Stars chittered from atop her head.

  “Well,” Graisey muttered, exhaling as she ran a hand down her face, “looks like we’ve got a new friend to pick up.”

  Her Pokémon responded with a chorus of chirps, though they, too, seemed uncertain what to make of this development.

  With a sigh,

  Before Cyndaquil could so much as breathe a spark, Nurse Joy’s voice rang out from across the lobby.

  “NO FIRES INSIDE!”

  Graisey flinched as every Trainer in the room turned toward her booth. Cyndaquil froze mid-inhale, then slowly lowered its head.

  Mouthing a sheepish “sorry,” Graisey sank into her seat, willing herself to disappear.

  Resigning herself to cold vegetables, she cleaned up her booth, cradled the bowl in her arms, and beckoned to her Pokémon toward the dormitory hallway.

  Whatever was inside that egg… she’d have to figure it out soon.

  The evening air grew cooler at the base of Mt. Silver as the last golden rays of sunlight retreated behind the towering peaks. Below, the town stirred in transition—day fading into night. The Battle Café swung open its doors, its warm lights spilling onto the cobbled streets as it welcomed its first patrons. Other establishments closed down, their windows dimming, shutters closing. The faint hum of city life softened, replaced by the gentle clatter of shopkeepers wrapping up their day.

  Inside a sleek, modern office, the same rhythm unfolded. glass walls picked up the shifting sky, blending its twilight colors into the modern space. The workers exchanged quiet goodbyes as they packed up for the night, heading home to their families or well-earned moments of solitude.

  One woman remained, seated at her desk, her laptop open from her final meeting of the day. Dressed in a professional outfit softened by playful touches—a vibrant scarf and a delicate charm bracelet—she reached for her tea, only to find it had gone cold. She took the last sip anyway, wrinkling her nose slightly as she shut her laptop with a soft click. The office had mostly emptied now, the hush of evening settling in.

  As she flicked off her desk lamp, a knock at the door caught her attention.

  “I see you’re leaving,” a voice said. “Can I steal a minute?” She turned.

  A middle-aged man stood in the doorway, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He wore neatly pressed suit pants, but his button-down shirt was casual, the sleeves slightly rolled up. His presence—steady and approachable—was marked by the same kind authority that made him easy to talk to.

  The woman exhaled, setting her bag back down.

  “Sure. Amuse me, Lee.”

  Her voice carried the weight of a long day, but there was no resistance in it.

  Lee stepped inside, waving a bundle of papers held together by a simple clip. Though unreadable at this distance, a familiar photo peeked from the stack.

  “Your Trainer enrolled.”

  She flicked her scarf vividly. Her tiredness vanished as she reached for her bag, pulling out her laptop again. “She’s in Violet City?”

  Lee nodded. “Yup. Challenging the Falkner sisters tomorrow.”

  A spark of excitement lit her features as she flicked through her schedule. “Perfect. I’m clearing my day as we speak.”

  Lee chuckled, dropping the papers onto her desk. “Knew you’d be happy. And don’t worry—you called this moment days ago. You’re all set. How’re you planning to get there?”

  She leaned back, stretching slightly. “I think I’ll fly. It’s been a while.”

  Lee paused, leaning against the doorframe. “Enjoy it, no matter the outcome.”

  “I will. Thanks, Lee. Say hi to the kids for me.”

  Lee lifted a hand in a parting wave and disappeared down the hall.

  The office was quiet now. Only the distant hum of the city and the glow of her screen remained. She reached into her bag, fingers brushing over a familiar shape before pulling it free—an Ultra Ball.

  She turned it in her palm once, then smiled.

  “Ready for a little trip?”

  With one last look at Graisey’s photo, Daruda shut her laptop and stepped out into the night, excitement sparking in her eyes.