The sun rose soft and shy over Floaroma Town, bathing the Frostveil home in a golden hush. Aiden Frostveil sat at the kitchen table, kicking his heels lightly against the legs of his chair, trying to drink in every detail of this morning — the scent of his mother's herb tea, the way the wooden floor creaked when his grandfather shifted his weight, the familiar chime of his grandmother's bracelets.
Today was the day.
His journey would begin.
Elira Frostveil, his mother, bustled around the kitchen, her hands graceful and sure. She placed a stack of berry pancakes before him, steam curling into the air like little spirits.
"Eat well, my love," she said, kissing the top of his head. Her voice trembled just slightly. "You'll need all your strength."
Aiden smiled up at her, trying to be brave.
Across from him, Garrick Frostveil, his grandfather, gave a soft grunt and reached into the pocket of his worn jacket. He produced an old, tarnished coin and pushed it across the table with a weathered finger.
"Had this with me when I caught my first partner," Garrick said, his rough voice catching in his throat. "It's not magic. But it's lucky. Maybe it'll be lucky for you, too."
Aiden picked up the coin, feeling the years worn into its surface. He tucked it carefully into the pouch at his belt.
"Thank you, Grandpa," he said, his voice small but firm.
The kitchen door creaked open, and in swept Selene Frostveil, his grandmother, trailing a scent of lavender and wild mint. Her eyes, a bright misty gray, sparkled as she pressed a small bundle into Aiden's hand.
"For protection," she whispered, pressing her forehead gently to his. "When you're far from home, let this remind you that love always finds its way."
He clutched the bundle tightly, its smell a calming balm to the nervous excitement in his chest.
Before he could say anything more, a loud thud shook the doorway as Merek Frostveil, his uncle, bounded in, his boots caked with travel dust.
"Wait!" he called, waving something over his head. "I almost missed you!"
He tossed a battered leather journal onto Aiden's lap.
"Write everything down," Merek said, winking. "The world's bigger than any map. You'll see things no one else ever has."
Aiden traced the cover with his fingers. He could almost see the empty pages, waiting to be filled with his own story.
And then, in the soft hush that fell over the room, his father stepped forward.
Darian Frostveil, towering and strong, yet somehow looking smaller today, knelt before his son.
He held out a piece of cloth, carefully wrapped around something precious.
"Aiden," he said, voice low and thick with feeling, "this belongs to you now."
He unfolded the cloth to reveal the Frostveil family pendant: silver, shaped like a flame encased in a ring of frost. The metal caught the morning light, shining like a promise.
Darian tied it gently around Aiden's neck, his big hands lingering there for a heartbeat longer.
"You don't have to be perfect out there," he whispered, voice rough. "Just be yourself. Be brave. That's enough."
Aiden felt the weight of the pendant settle against his chest — a weight that felt oddly like wings.
Tears blurred his vision. He threw his arms around his father, burying his face against his shoulder.
"I'll make you proud," he mumbled.
"You already have," Darian whispered back.
The family drew in close then, a tight circle of love and pride and aching goodbyes. Elira pressed her cheek to Aiden's hair; Selene murmured blessings under her breath; Garrick clapped him on the back with a gruff "Go get 'em"; Merek ruffled his hair until it stood on end.
And then it was time.
Journey to Hearthome City
Darian swung up onto the broad, strong back of Arcanine, the noble Fire-type who had once carried him through battlefield storms. He reached down and pulled Aiden up behind him.
"Hold tight," he said with a grin.
Aiden wrapped his arms around his father's waist, pressing his face into the worn leather of his jacket. And then Arcanine bounded forward, paws thundering against the earth, wind whipping past them.
The ride was half a day long — through rolling meadows, over stony hills, across glittering streams. They didn't talk much. They didn't need to.
Sometimes Darian would point something out — a flock of Starly rising like smoke into the sky, or a field of sun-bright flowers bending in the breeze.
Once, they paused at a hilltop, the city of Hearthome spread out below them like a dream.
"You'll make memories here," Darian said, voice low.
Aiden nodded, gripping the pendant against his chest.
The Starter Council
The Starter Council building loomed large in the city center, banners of blue and gold snapping in the breeze. Lines of hopeful trainers snaked around the plaza, buzzing with nervous energy.
Aiden slid off Arcanine's back, his knees a little wobbly. Darian clapped a reassuring hand to his shoulder.
"I'll wait over there," he said, pointing to a shaded bench.
Aiden nodded, joining the line.
The trainer ahead of him — a girl with bright green hair and a confident grin — turned and gave him a thumbs up.
"Nervous?" she asked.
"Yeah," Aiden said, smiling shyly.
"Don't sweat it. It's a lottery. Luck of the draw."
Aiden's hand strayed to the lucky coin in his pocket.
One by one, the line moved forward. Trainers reached the front desk, received their lottery tickets, and stepped up to the massive PokéLottery Machine — a gleaming, spinning orb of lights and sound.
When his turn came, Aiden approached the desk.
The official, a tall woman with kind eyes, handed him a small paper slip.
"Insert your ticket into the machine, then press the center button," she instructed. "Fate will choose your first partner."
Aiden nodded, his heart pounding.
He stepped up to the machine. The lights flashed as he slid the ticket into the slot. He hesitated for half a second, then pressed the glowing center button.
The machine whirred and clicked. A series of Pokéballs appeared on a screen, tumbling like dice. Faster and faster, until — a single ball popped out with a cheerful "ding!"
Aiden caught it, feeling the cool metal against his palm.
He turned to see Darian watching, his smile broad and proud.
Meeting His Partner
Heart racing, Aiden walked to the side courtyard where other trainers were meeting their partners. He cradled the Pokéball in both hands for a moment.
Then, slowly, he pressed the release button.
A burst of bright light flashed — and then resolved into...
A small figure stood there, sleek and poised. Its fur was midnight black, smooth and glossy. Sharp red claws tipped its agile paws, and an icy blue feather-like crest swept back from its head, giving it a wild, fierce elegance. Its eyes, slanted and gleaming, were a brilliant, mischievous gold.
The creature flicked its sharp claws playfully and let out a soft, chittering sound, full of energy and curiosity.
Darian let out a low whistle.
"A Sneasel," he said, awe coloring his voice.
Around them, a few other trainers turned to stare.
"Whoa, lucky!"
"Man, a Sneasel? That's rare!"
"I'd kill for a partner like that!"
Aiden knelt, holding out his hand.
The Sneasel cocked its head, considering him, then trotted forward with quick, graceful steps, tapping its cold nose against his fingers.
Aiden laughed, the sound bright and amazed.
"You're perfect," he whispered.
Darian crouched beside him.
"Sneasel are clever, fast, and loyal," he said. "You're gonna have your hands full."
Aiden looked up at his father, grinning.
"I'm ready."
Goodbye
The moment hung heavy between them.
Darian rested a hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing gently.
"You'll always have a home here," he said, voice thick.
Aiden nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
"I'll make you proud," he said again.
"You already have," Darian repeated, a tear slipping down his cheek.
They hugged tightly — a fierce, lingering embrace — and then Darian swung up onto Arcanine's back.
He raised a hand in farewell, his smile trembling.
"Go find your path, Aiden," he called.
And then he was gone, Arcanine carrying him away down the wide city street.
Aiden stood for a moment, feeling the weight of the pendant, the journal, the lucky coin, the herb bundle — all the pieces of home wrapped around him like a second skin.
Sneasel tugged at his sleeve, chittering eagerly.
Aiden laughed through his tears.
"Alright, partner," he said, "let's go see what's out there."
Together, boy and Sneasel turned toward the path leading out of the city — toward the waiting forests, the hidden rivers, the mountains beyond the mist.
Their journey had begun.