The golden rays of the early morning sun spilled over the quiet town of Kaer Vaelen, casting long, soft beams through the windows of the Valen household. The scent of warm bread and fresh berries filled the air as the family gathered around the breakfast table. Riven sat across from his younger sister, Mira, who wore a mischievous smirk that he immediately recognized. Before long, their usual banter began, sharp and playful, sparking laughter from their parents as they sat back to enjoy the familiar scene.
"I'm telling you, Mira," Riven said between bites of toast, "becoming a great trainer isn't just about loving your Pokémon. You have to build your team smartly—choose the right members, cover your weaknesses, and think ahead. Strategy wins battles, not just emotions."
Mira stuck her tongue out at him. "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Logic. You can have all the strategies you want, but if you don't love your Pokémon, if you don't care for them like family, they'll never trust you enough to fight their hardest!" she shot back, folding her arms defiantly.
Their parents chuckled at the back-and-forth, exchanging amused glances. Their father leaned back in his chair, a soft pride in his eyes, while their mother simply smiled warmly, savoring the moment. It was rare lately for the house to feel so light-hearted with Riven preparing to leave.
"You both make good points," came a familiar, gravelly voice. Gideon, their grandfather, pulled his chair up beside Mira and affectionately ruffled her hair, making her squawk in protest. His old, sharp eyes gleamed with fondness as he looked between the two. "But remember this—you'll need more than just a good team, and more than just love. Out there in the wilds, strength comes from one thing above all else: adaptability."
The room fell quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. Gideon's voice grew softer, but firmer. "To survive, to truly grow strong, you must adapt to any situation without losing yourself. Never forget who you are. And most importantly—" he paused, tapping his chest, "you must have the will. The will to survive. The will to understand your Pokémon better than anyone else. Without it, no strategy or affection will save you."
After breakfast, Riven excused himself and went up to his room, his heart beating faster with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He packed his bag methodically, making sure he had all the necessities: potions, food, a blanket, a few training manuals, and of course, the Pokéballs for his journey. His partner, Ron the Aron, waited patiently at his side, nudging the backpack with his nose every now and then.
As Riven folded a jacket into the bag, his hand brushed against something tucked at the bottom—a photo. He paused, pulling it out. It was a faded picture of his whole family, including Varek, his older brother, smiling proudly with his first Pokémon at his side. A rush of memories flooded Riven's mind—the day Varek left, the confusion and heartbreak that followed when he never came back. His brother had died under mysterious circumstances, the truth hidden or lost. Riven clenched the photo tightly, feeling the familiar burn of determination. Finding out what happened to Varek… that was one of the reasons he needed to become strong.
When the time came to leave, the goodbyes were bittersweet. His mother cried openly, reluctant to let her son step into the dangers of the world. She clung to him tightly, whispering prayers under her breath. His father, ever the quiet strength of the family, pulled Riven into a firm hug. "No matter what happens out there," he said in a low voice, "we've always got your back. You can always come home." His sister Mira sniffled, pretending she wasn't crying as she shoved something into his hands.
"Don't forget your DexBand, dummy!" she said, teasingly punching his arm. The device was sleek and lightweight, a compact combination of a mobile phone and a Pokédex. It could scan Pokémon data, store training notes, and send messages. However, in the deep Wild Zones, its signal would often fail completely. The old infrastructure was too weak, and nature too wild, for even the strongest tech to work there. The DexBand had limited offline functions, but real-time tracking and data-sharing would become useless the farther from civilization he traveled. It was a tool—but not something he could rely on blindly.
Finally, Gideon stepped forward. His hands, calloused from years of training and travel, rested heavily on Riven's shoulders. "Always believe in yourself," he said, his voice low and rough with emotion. "Out there, things will try to break you. They'll try to make you forget who you are. Don't let them. You decide who you become. No one else." Riven nodded solemnly, feeling the heavy truth in his grandfather's words.
With all goodbyes said, Riven stepped out into the cool morning air. The streets of Kaer Vaelen were just beginning to wake, the sky overhead streaked with pale orange. As he walked toward the city's gates, he caught sight of another figure waiting by the main road. A boy, about his age, leaning casually against a fence post, hands in his pockets.
The boy's hair was a messy, windswept blonde, catching the sunlight like strands of gold. His eyes were sharp and lively, a piercing shade of blue that seemed almost unnaturally bright. He wore a worn jacket over travel gear, with a battered-looking backpack slung over one shoulder. Despite the laid-back stance, there was an unmistakable readiness about him, like a coiled spring hidden under an easy smile. His name was Ethan—a friend, a rival, and perhaps the only person in town who truly understood what drove Riven forward.
Ethan's grin widened as Riven approached. "Took you long enough," he called out, pushing off from the fence. "Thought you were gonna chicken out and stay home forever."
Riven smirked, adjusting the strap of his bag. "Please. You wish. Ready to lose our first battle?"
Ethan laughed, slinging his arm around Riven's shoulder as they began walking together toward the wilds. "You're on, Riv. Let's see which of us will become a legend first."
The path to the wilds lay ahead—untamed, dangerous, and full of possibility