<Stanley watched from next to the egg, fascinated as it began to wiggle back and forth, while his parents moved to turn off the television and position themselves to see the small miracle of life. It had been quite a wait, but they were eager to welcome the new member of their family.>


    An orange scaled arm burst from the shell, with three clawed fingers, as the pokemon inside struggled to escape its former prison. The arm flailed about, trying to widen the hole and make way for the slightly larger round head that pushed at the side of the opening. Failing to do so, it withdrew the arm, allowing an orange snout to shove against the hole for a breath of air.


    <”I guess it isn’t a Ralts, hah.” Eric laughed, his guess being wildly incorrect. “Nor a Sentret, guess I was wrong on it being something soft and fuzzy.” Diane admitted, having hoped for a soft cuddly partner for her son. Stanley thought it was weird his parents would have a specific preference, he just wanted someone who could understand him.>


    With one solid shove, the top of the egg cracked up and opened like the lid on a tin can, with the small pokemon’s reptilian head poking out and breathing hard. Slowly maneuvering to clamber out of the former egg, the orange pokemon wiggled left to right, covered in goop and letting out a small cry “Damn it, why?!” The quarter-meter tall pokemon was small for its species, but having just emerged from an egg this was bound to change with time. Its cream-colored underbelly continuously expanded and contracted as it caught its first breaths, before opening a pair of sky-blue eyes to take in the world.


    <Stanley was happy, his new friend looked healthy and did not appear to have the wrong number of limbs. “Oh, huh, I don’t actually recognize this one.” Eric mused, as he and Diane worked a towel to clean off their son’s new pokemon before it made a mess of the kitchen. “Isn’t that a fire type?” Diane asked, slightly on edge while pointing at the tip of its tail, “Can we raise a fire type here? I worry for the carpets and drapes.”>


    While the two adults were careful about getting the cotton towels too close to the open flame at the tip of his tail, the new hatchling seemed to perk up at their words. “Wait, didn’t we already do this? Why was I back in the egg?” Charmander attempted to grab its tail, but failed as they could barely stand, its balance not being helped by the four human hands trying to clean it off. “This doesn’t make any sense, did I go back in time?!” It continued to wail, albeit not in a way any human could comprehend.


    <The young pokemon seemed to be brimming with energy. I wonder if they want to go exploring with me today, Stanley pondered. “Stanley, I hope you’re ready for this new responsibility.” Eric said, moving the remains of the egg to the bin and starting to clean the fragments that were spread across the room. “Yes honey, you’re still too young to go on an adventure, but maybe getting a head start will help you practice communicating with other kids?” Diane chipped in, folding the goopy towel that may not be recoverable with a simple wash.>


    “Wait, are you seriously having them repeat the same words and actions every time they reset?” The small pokemon questioned. It could only look up at the titans towering above, even the small child was nearly double his height.


    <Stanley stood up from the low table and moved to the front door, where he sat down to don and lace his shoes. I hope my new pokemon likes to go exploring, Stanley thought as he finished the last bow and waited at the door, willing his new pokemon to join him.>


    Under Eric and Diane’s nervous glances, Charmander sighed and hopped off the chair, moving to join the boy. Once the duo were near the door, the lizard waited for a moment.


    <”Don’t go out into the tall grass Stanley! You’re not a trainer yet, so just do a normal walk around town.” Eric suggested, smiling to see that somehow things were already looking up. “Oh, if you go by the grocer can you buy some carrots for tonight?” Diane asked, pulling a few Pokedollars from her purse and offering them to Stanley. That shouldn’t be too hard, thought Stanley, as he accepted the both the quest and offered currency.>


    With an errant glance, Charmander locked eyes with Eric and Diane, he subtly placed his palms together and leaned forward in a slight bow. The duo’s happy expressions faltered for a moment, as the child and pokemon walked out the front door. The view was instantly calming, as the lizard took the extra moment to take in the view of their house. It hadn’t changed, still being composed of stone walls with creeping ivy decorating several places, though the styling somehow evoked the image of a countryside cottage in a certain country. “Why does this make me feel like I want a croissant?” He asked nobody in particular.


    <Sitting atop the fence, a cute Fletchling whistled a merry tune, taking notice of the pair as they approached. Hello Fletchling, thought Stanley, your song is very beautiful today. Stanley waved to the bird as he opened the gate, as he received a cheerful tune in response.>


    “Ah, you must be the egg he’s been carrying around, eh?” The bird inquired, its gaze now on the lizard at the boy’s heels.


    “Yea, and we’ve already had this conversation before,” Charmander responded, catching the bird off-guard. It trilled a happy high-pitched laugh with a smile.


    “Well if that isn’t the silliest thing a hatchling has said to me in a while.” The bird got a chuckle, clearly entertained. “I suggest you hurry along before you lose Stanley; and welcome to Vaniville!” It said, taking to the sky to fly elsewhere. Charmander, seeing that his companion was now almost a house ahead, broke into a jog to catch up.


    <He must’ve wanted to say hi to Fletchling, I should’ve waited a bit, thought Stanley. Maybe my pokemon likes talking to others, he concluded. Stanley briefly thought about how he read about psychic pokemon being able to converse telepathically with humans. Maybe if I have a pokemon that can talk for me, others might not be so uncomfortable with me, he theorized.>


    Charmander followed behind silently, his face determined and illustrating just how fast the gears were spinning in his head. Meanwhile the peaceful sunshine and sounds of springtime were everywhere in the small town. Flowers were in full bloom, and small bug pokemon would infrequently flutter flower to flower.


    <Stanley continued walking, waving to neighbors as they passed. I wonder what I should name my pokemon, Stanley pondered, unsure of either the personality or gender of his new friend. How do you even check for that?>


    Charmander remained quiet, walking in silent lockstep behind the child.


    <Maybe I can name them Bucket, he thought. After all, he loved buckets.>Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Taking a gamble again, Charmander kept quiet.


    <Stanley remembered he already had a Bucket, and two of them could be confusing. He would need to think this over, since you couldn’t change a name. He also considered naming his pokemon Bob, which was a fine name, but it might not be appropriate if his new friend were a girl. That idea reminded him of a funny song, and he briefly considered the idea of naming the pokemon Sue, regardless of gender.>


    As the duo continued, they came up to the main shopping area, where the grocery and general stores sat on opposite sides of the path. “I wonder if they have a hospital or Pokecenter somewhere in town,” Charmander pondered aloud.


    <Only a few blocks into their journey, Stanley stopped outside a somewhat large building, the front covered in large windows, with a sign overhead proudly proclaiming the purpose of the building to all who could see. “FOOD!” it shouted, in big bold and friendly letters. Stanley remembered that his mom asked him to fetch some carrots. Glancing at the money she provided, he attempted to count it only to remember he was not great at math.>


    “Alright, I am a dumb, newborn pokemon. I cannot read the human language, or count. The boy will just have to solve this one on his own.” The lizard recited, resolving to try and remain in character. Though, he was absolutely vibrating in agitation watching the child attempt to count the money.


    <No problem, thought Stanley, as he walked into the store, sure that he had enough money for some carrots. Not wanting to be separated, Stanley grabbed the lizard gently by the hand, and led him inside the store through the automatically-opening glass sliding doors. Stanley remembered that the carrots were with the other vegetables, from the times his mother took him here. After passing by several bright and colorful adverts that would persuade any other child to buy sugar-laden cavity-inducing facsimiles of food, the duo arrived in front of the locally-grown produce.>


    <Stanley stared at the carrots, for there were many of them, and his mother forgot to specify which kind she needed. Baby carrots, large carrots, diced carrots, spicy carrots, oh so many varieties to pick from! There was even a full bucket of carrots! But Stanley looked at the numbers, and the money in his hand. Oh no, which one can I buy? His thoughts fraught with terror.>


    Charmander, who was clearly broadcasting his discontent with the situation, walked over and pointed at the bucket of carrots, which had a price of ten Pokedollars.


    <Shaking his head, Stanley knows he has less than ten Pokedollars, and that he can’t afford the bucket. Such a shame, he felt it was a nice bucket, and clearly his new pokemon also loves a good bucket. Taking a random guess, Stanley grabs a bag of baby carrots and starts to head towards the checkout. I’m sure this is small enough, he decides as he scans the bag with the automated terminal.>


    “Right,” Charmander remarks with sass while attempting to steal an apple. “I forgot he’s only as dumb as you need him to be.”


    <The pair returned home, with a bag of baby carrots, the remaining 2 Pokedollars, and certainly not a stolen apple with a bite taken out of it. I got the carrots!, Stanley mimed as he entered the front door. The walk home had been peaceful, as the sun had started to rest and paint the sky a glorious orange. The same orange as his friend’s scales!>


    The lizard, now bereft of his pilferage, closed the front door behind him with a pang of annoyance. Catching Eric’s attention, he draws a circle in the air with his claws, before pointing at himself. “You know Stanley, if you’re going to be a proper Pokemon trainer, we should get a Pokeball for you to carry your new friend around in,” Eric suggested. “Why don’t I go and pick one up for you tomorrow morning, that way you can practice with him?”


    <That would be fantastic, thought Stanley, as he practiced poses for throwing a pokeball. I need a cool victory dance, he realized, as he began to try different moves he saw other trainers do on television. Not wanting to be left out, his pokemon joined him in practicing cool victory poses.>


    With a shrug, the orange pokemon moved to join the child, and began to act a fool.


    <Dinner was ready soon after, and the four enjoyed the steamed vegetables, with Stanley’s carrots as the main hero of the dish. The family spent the evening watching television, before turning in for the night. Today was a good day, thought Stanley, as he tucked himself into bed, his pajamas decorated with a pattern of buckets over a blue fleece. Good night buddy, he thought as the lights went out, his partner next to him on the bed, careful to keep the flame away from anything that might catch fire.>


    <hr>


    After he was certain the boy was asleep, Charmander slid off the bed, and stealthily crept towards the living room. He woke up the computer, with a pencil and pad of paper on the desk for tonight’s notes, disappointed to find the pad was fresh and empty. He made sure to turn the volume all the way off, glancing at the door to Stanley’s room to make sure he had closed it properly.


    “Well, aren’t you as adorable as a baby Eevee,” a sly voice whispered from behind him. Sitting ram-rod straight in a panic, the lizard slowly rotated the chair around to view his silent assailant; a rather powerful Sylveon grinning at his unease. “I guess she wasn’t exaggerating then,” she continued, gently patting the round orange head with her ribbons.


    “I am guessing you’re the one Adrienne is always carrying around?” He asked, before turning back to the computer, using both claws to guide the mouse to the web browser. Sylveon sauntered around to his left side, with a grin betraying her interest in the little one. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I guess. I don’t have a name yet, but with any luck it won’t be Bucket.” He introduced himself, as with the bookmarked page loaded he began to read up on the Kalos region.


    “Nice to meet you then. My name is Fée’renard, though do try not to pronounce my name as horribly as you write,” she teased. Charmander highlighted a word, before looking at the white pokemon with a sunken frown of disbelief.


    “Can you repeat that for me, slowly please?” He asked, concerned.


    “Fée, renard,” she chided, putting extra emphasis on the appropriate syllables as he groaned in response. “Rather a rude one, aren’t you?”


    “No, sorry, it’s just… Your name, her name, I finally understand why everything feels weird.” He clarified, returning to the PC and pulling up the region map. “This is the French region, which explains the architecture, the food, your names, ugh. I didn’t actually play this one.” He explained, drawing a confused response from the faerie pokemon.


    “Your words are confusing, and yet imply knowledge beyond what a one day old child should have. So, tell me, what is your plan for beating The Voice?” She inquired, spinning the chair again to force him to face her.


    “Well, first, do you know the names of any of the kids in this town? Especially the ones who might almost be of age for going on their journey?” He asked, grabbing the paper and pencil to jot down ideas.


    “That is a rather odd question. I do, but what might be in it for Adrienne and I?”


    “This seems like the kind of town the protagonist would start from, with a pokemon from the region’s main pokemon professor. They end up being the strongest trainer in the region, heck even strong enough to dominate other regions too. If Stanley travels with them, The Voice will get the journey he wants to see, and we’ll be unlikely to face another big re-do.” There was a brief lull after the explanation, before she gestured for him to continue. “We can’t beat The Voice, we can only play along. If he wants Stanley to be a pokemon master, tagging along with someone strong is our best bet. That and the sooner he leaves, the sooner your trainer gets her life back.”


    With a nod, Fée’renard sat down on her haunches, “Good, I approve of this plan. Unfortunately, there are only three other children in town who are the boy’s age; Shauna, Serena, and Calem. They are good friends, I hear. And both Serena and Calem have parents who competed in the conference their first year.” The lizard promptly writes down the names, though their legibility is questionable.


    “Does Adrienne still have any other pokemon, or just you?” Charmander asked, putting the paper down on the desk, and changing the page to look up more information on the faerie before him.


    “Just me, unfortunate for you. After she met émeric, she decided to settle down for a while, so the rest of our team is currently staying at the gym in Laverre City. I still don’t see how she fell for him though, did you know that bird isn’t even his? It works for his employer, just to bring him to and from the city.” She chided, her voice low enough not to be audible in the next room.


    Resolution burning in his eyes, Charmander faces her with a serious expression. “Can you train me?” He asks.


    With a curious smirk at the entertaining idea, she asks “And why would I do such a thing?”


    “Because the boy is mute, and The Voice expects me to actually win battles. You have experience, and want us both gone as soon as possible,” he explained, laying out his reasoning.


    “Damn right we do,” she agrees with a sharp smile. “But you’re not going to get very far if your trainer is dead weight. What’ll you do when a different team member is on the field?”


    With a sigh, the lizard slumped back in the chair. “Yea, I know. I’d have more success as a trainer than just a pokemon,” he lamented, before his eyes opened wider than a child in a toy store.


    “You’ve just thought up something crazy haven’t you?” She inquired, her eyes fixated on the bundle of madness before her.


    “Yea, actually I did. Hey, uh, other voice… Can the British guy hear this conversation?” He asked, to no-one in particular, as Fée’renard looked at him skeptically.


    Not a word. So, what crazy idea did you have in mind?