Fiery Thorns Prologue.
It was raining fire. Doom. Destruction. Hopelessness. Death.
A small boy peeked his head out of the blackened door into the tears, into the torture, into the darkness. The late night shadows darkened the young boy's face were obstructed by the flashes of flickering flames that laid low in the crevices of the houses, just waiting for an innocent young boy like him to wander too far from his nest and gobble him up, like a Purrloin would to a Pidove hatchling that strayed too far from the protection of its mother. A sharp scream of terror sliced the tension-thick air. The young boy's head snapped to the sound and his own bright blue-green eyes started to well up with fat tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks and splatter on the water deprived ground. "M-mother!" The boy's pitiful cry echoed in the small city. There was no response other than the loud thumps and quick breathing of the warring Pokemon that were growing closer to the boy and his burnt house.
Suddenly a woman came into view, running fearfully for her life from whatever terror lurked behind, carrying a small bundle of towels. The boy's face visibly brightened as he saw another alive human being and he stepped fully out into the fire's glow. The woman continued to run, almost to the point where she was only feet from the boy. As if the boy had broken her terrified trance, the woman suddenly halted and stared down at the young boy's ash covered face and his burnt clothing that hardly classified as more than rags with the condition it was in.
She bent down to be on eye level with the boy; her warm brown eyes staring seriously in his blue-green ones, and then those eyes diverting to the small bundle in her arms. "Take. He will be more of a help to you than he will ever be to me now. I am old my boy, and you have many years to age and grow. Go into the world boy, save us." The woman whispered to the young boy, barely a year older than a toddler, and handed him her bundle of towels.
The boy looked down to study the bundle which was a Pokemon bundled in a mass of cloth and towels, but the Pokemon's face wasn't visible in the darkness despite the looming firelight. A small, grubby hand reached out to unravel the bundle, but the elderly woman placed a cold, shaky hand over his. "He does not need to be exposed to this at such a early age, boy." The woman reminded. Suddenly, the slight sound of air rushing towards them alerted the woman of an oncoming threat.
Her warm brown eyes turned urgent and worried as she started deeply into the boy's. "Go. Go now! Save yourself, your partner, our future! What did I tell you young one? Go!" The woman cried out and the boy's eyes widened. "B-but..." The boy's lower lip trembled softly and his eyes began to blur as tears threatened to spill once more.
After glancing at her eyes, serious, wise, and demanding, the young boy turned and sprinted as fast as his short legs and weak muscles could carry him. He hugged the bundle to his chest and started to cry as he continued to run; over logs of the once famous trees and around the houses of the kind people that would exist no longer in this world. The boy closed his eyes and ran blindly as he reached a long dirt road to where safety would hopefully lay.
His ankle buckled and the boy screeched as his hand flew into a patch of flames as he tried to get back on his feet. In pain, his tears began to grow and he cried harder. His hand was shriveled and black, blistering quickly from the horrible burn. The boy then heard the thumps of battle approaching him, but he couldn't move.
The sounds of war slowly faded into a soft hum as a new sound soothed his aching ears. The natural curiosity of the boy made him open his eyes slightly to see the small, blurry green figure standing, or flying, in a mass of green light that emitted from it. His pain was drawn away, and suddenly the boy could think straight. The song ended as his eyes clear of tears and he stood up. The boy rushed to the towel, which hadn't made a sound nor movement since he got it. Nonetheless, he picked it up and continued to run.
There it was. The place where he first came to love this city. It was only a few feet away...10 feet...5 feet...inches away... But he slipped. The boy lost his balance and slid down a large, muddy slope. He pulled the bundle closer to his chest as he rolled down the hill. The boy gasped as he hit a sign at the bottom and slowly lost consciousness.
He would never know that the old woman died only seconds after he left. He would never know that part of his family was still alive. He would never know who- or what- saved him.
And it all happened right under the sign reading...
'Welcome to Cherrygrove City! The City of Flowers!'
It was raining fire. Doom. Destruction. Hopelessness. Death.
A small boy peeked his head out of the blackened door into the tears, into the torture, into the darkness. The late night shadows darkened the young boy's face were obstructed by the flashes of flickering flames that laid low in the crevices of the houses, just waiting for an innocent young boy like him to wander too far from his nest and gobble him up, like a Purrloin would to a Pidove hatchling that strayed too far from the protection of its mother. A sharp scream of terror sliced the tension-thick air. The young boy's head snapped to the sound and his own bright blue-green eyes started to well up with fat tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks and splatter on the water deprived ground. "M-mother!" The boy's pitiful cry echoed in the small city. There was no response other than the loud thumps and quick breathing of the warring Pokemon that were growing closer to the boy and his burnt house.
Suddenly a woman came into view, running fearfully for her life from whatever terror lurked behind, carrying a small bundle of towels. The boy's face visibly brightened as he saw another alive human being and he stepped fully out into the fire's glow. The woman continued to run, almost to the point where she was only feet from the boy. As if the boy had broken her terrified trance, the woman suddenly halted and stared down at the young boy's ash covered face and his burnt clothing that hardly classified as more than rags with the condition it was in.
She bent down to be on eye level with the boy; her warm brown eyes staring seriously in his blue-green ones, and then those eyes diverting to the small bundle in her arms. "Take. He will be more of a help to you than he will ever be to me now. I am old my boy, and you have many years to age and grow. Go into the world boy, save us." The woman whispered to the young boy, barely a year older than a toddler, and handed him her bundle of towels.
The boy looked down to study the bundle which was a Pokemon bundled in a mass of cloth and towels, but the Pokemon's face wasn't visible in the darkness despite the looming firelight. A small, grubby hand reached out to unravel the bundle, but the elderly woman placed a cold, shaky hand over his. "He does not need to be exposed to this at such a early age, boy." The woman reminded. Suddenly, the slight sound of air rushing towards them alerted the woman of an oncoming threat.
Her warm brown eyes turned urgent and worried as she started deeply into the boy's. "Go. Go now! Save yourself, your partner, our future! What did I tell you young one? Go!" The woman cried out and the boy's eyes widened. "B-but..." The boy's lower lip trembled softly and his eyes began to blur as tears threatened to spill once more.
After glancing at her eyes, serious, wise, and demanding, the young boy turned and sprinted as fast as his short legs and weak muscles could carry him. He hugged the bundle to his chest and started to cry as he continued to run; over logs of the once famous trees and around the houses of the kind people that would exist no longer in this world. The boy closed his eyes and ran blindly as he reached a long dirt road to where safety would hopefully lay.
His ankle buckled and the boy screeched as his hand flew into a patch of flames as he tried to get back on his feet. In pain, his tears began to grow and he cried harder. His hand was shriveled and black, blistering quickly from the horrible burn. The boy then heard the thumps of battle approaching him, but he couldn't move.
The sounds of war slowly faded into a soft hum as a new sound soothed his aching ears. The natural curiosity of the boy made him open his eyes slightly to see the small, blurry green figure standing, or flying, in a mass of green light that emitted from it. His pain was drawn away, and suddenly the boy could think straight. The song ended as his eyes clear of tears and he stood up. The boy rushed to the towel, which hadn't made a sound nor movement since he got it. Nonetheless, he picked it up and continued to run.
There it was. The place where he first came to love this city. It was only a few feet away...10 feet...5 feet...inches away... But he slipped. The boy lost his balance and slid down a large, muddy slope. He pulled the bundle closer to his chest as he rolled down the hill. The boy gasped as he hit a sign at the bottom and slowly lost consciousness.
He would never know that the old woman died only seconds after he left. He would never know that part of his family was still alive. He would never know who- or what- saved him.
And it all happened right under the sign reading...
'Welcome to Cherrygrove City! The City of Flowers!'