"Please! Just give me a chance!"
The older man shook his head to the young lad. His hand was placed on the young lad's head as he spoke. "Life does not serve well to those who fall to nothing, those who beg and to even accept mercy?" The old man laughed. He shook his head and turned to leave the sixteen year old.
"No! I won't let you leave!" The sixteen year old shook his head. He stood to his feet in the dim-lit room. "If you leave, then I'll -"
"You'll what?" Without a glance, the old man spoke to the lad. His back did not turn for a split second. "You said it yourself, why should anyone care?" The corner of his lips tilted upward into a grin. A low chuckle was emitted and he left the room.
"Who cares what you think!?" His impulsive cry echoed through the room. Immediately his hands curled into fists. Both of his eyebrows furrowed in a scowl that showed nothing more than discontent. Then the atmosphere changed. He dropped his shoulders to relieve the tension. His eyes widen as his eyebrows returned back to normal.
The young lad dropped his head. No morsal in his body could produce another tear. Maybe it's best that everything was left to another person. He cupped the Pokeball in his hand that hung from the necklace he wore. A simple, ordinary Pokeball that held colors of red and white. An eyebrow arched when he eyed a small, cherry wood jewelry chest.
He unclutched the Pokeball and carefully placed his hands on both sides of the chest. The light caught a flow of a jacket as the lad moved the chest closer to the candle. He inserted a key into the chest and the top opened with a click. A creek was made as he opened it. Unknown letters were carved across the bottom of the top. In a swift movement he grasped the Pokeball and tore the necklace away. The Pokeball strapped to the necklace was laid gently inside the cherry wood chest.
"Whoever shall find the remains in this chest is fated to encounter the wrongs that I've placed," the Lad said. For the last time, he shut the chest. "It is only in my hopes and dreams that whoever lays their hands on it will take it upon them to do more right than wrong." He scooped up the jewelry chest and left the room. In his mind he thought back to the foreign Unkown letters that were carved in the chest.
A dream is the bearer of a new possibility, the enlarged horizon, the great hope.*
The book was closed shut and the teacher stared over to his students. "Solaris holds much history, that young lad we have come to know as Stavros is one of the greatest legends yet." He stood fairly tall with his long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. His fingers adjusted his square frame glasses. "The reason I chose this story particularly in event to the test for your Pokemon License is that when you begin your journey, is that I encourage each and every one of you to expand your horizons as well hold hopes for one day you will all reach your own personal goals." Although much of the class had found story time to be nothing, but a mere snooze hour, many were in whispers in the excitement for the big day. The big day where all the students would participate in a comprehensive test that will allow them the rights and privilege to own a Pokemon License. No person can become a trainer without a license or qualify in any event that calls for Pokemon Trainers. Not many students are reported to not qualify as he or she had failed the test. Unfortunately, this class had the highest possibility to have a student do just that.
"It's just a folk tale," a boy muttered. He sat bored to his mind in the back of the room. His blue-green colored eyes stared far beyond towards the window. A bit of his face was recreated in the reflection. His teal colored hair went pass his ears to almost his shoulders. Then his bangs ran across his face in somewhat choppy lengths. "These so great legendary, heros, they're not good people, they say all that crap because you all are saps." Not a pitch was changed in his voice. It wasn't high, but it wasn't low. His voice was a complete monotone. "It is as if they take the garbage we read in comics and put them into real life then call it inspirational," he stated and held his hand in the air to emphasize quotations around the word inspirational.
A loud ahem spread throughout the room. His head hardly turned for him to glance to where that noise came from. "Cian!" A loud girl's voice boomed across the room. She had an orange blonde colored hair. At each side of her head were these curls clipped up and then she had these amber colored eyes that could incinerate everyone's eyes out. She slammed her hands onto the desk and said, "You have some nerve to still be here if you think that way!" Her hand rose and she pointed a finger straight at Cian while her eye twitched in rage. "You think you're so great because you choose to believe that all of this is crap, if you think any of what you say is valid, you're so wrong!" She dropped the finger and waved her hand to the side as she exclaimed, "You're the least productive student in this class and do you have any idea how much that reflects me entirely?!" Cian stared dully at the enraged female. The girl crossed her arms and turned her head away. "You don't even care about Pokemon!"
In the back of the room was a small play area. In that area was an Azurill who bounced around happily. He stopped and stared at all the students in the room. "Marsha is right!" A plain and simple looking, brown colored hair boy spoke out.
"Of course I am," Marsha insisted and placed a hand on her chest, "Which is partly why I can't wait to leave this place to escape the likes of you!"
Cian stood from his desk and raised his hand as he placed his opposite hand on his chest, "I, Cian, have been voted off the island." He dropped his hand and gathered his books. Marsha paused herself and blinked at the cumbersome student. Wait, what was he doing? The teacher looked nervously between the students who held dislike for Cian. He wasn't the most disciplined person and he severely lacked obedience.
"OK now...Cian," the teacher tried to console Cian to stay. "Cian, you can't leave the class..." How would one go about stopping a student without it seeming like physical or verbal abuse? The professor sweat-dropped.
"Professor, you just can't let him leave like that!" One of the girls said. Marsha gritted her teeth and grabbed a book to throw in direction at Cian. His head ducked as he made his way to the door. Why does that kid always have to ruin everything?! He had never shown to have interest in really anything at all. The only reason that he bothers to come back is because his mother would have her with him in the most unpleasant manner if he were to not attend. That and if he were to not pass, his mother's head would explode.
Professor had to advert the class attention on something else. It was no use. If Cian was gone for the day, he was done. Not even his mother that he fears will convince him to rejoin the class. "Alright class, there isn't anything we can do," Professor said.
"Of course there is something we can do!"
"Yeah! You're the best teacher! Someone like Cian should not reflect your work!"
The students started to uproar at how their most hated classmate should not be let go so easily. "Class!" Professor piped up, "Please, thank you, I ask that you take your seats to review your guide booklet, leave any other matters private." He bowed and took a step out of the classroom. Guess if he must do something he should try, even if the result is Cian kicks his butt later.
Inside the room, Marsha sat at her desk unhappily. How could she be all cheery? She thrived to do well and for the results to show. That won't happen if Cian were to be such a nuisance as he always is to the class. Whenever the Professor goes over subject material, he'll hardly pay attention or argue concepts with the teacher. It was more than obvious that Cian wasn't meant to be a trainer or have any relation to Pokemon! The last Pokemon in the classroom almost died because Cian failed to care for it! Marsha gripped her pencil hard enough that it snapped in half. Cian's going to get it if he dares to mess up with her one bit.
Meanwhile, Cian had left the school building that served as a gym, in a foul mood. His hands stuffed into his pockets as he wore that same blank expression. Rumors in Pokemon School have said that he would not even smile if anything great were to happen or cry if he were to find out that his death were tomorrow. His actions delivered his attitude most the time as well helped people to assume when he was in a rotten mood. No one figured out why he acted how he did. Some came to the conspiracy it was because he lacked a father. He countered that to say that his old man would have just pushed his mother around all day. Another conspiracy was that he was lonely and wanted friends. The newest student tried to befriend him as he thought that he need this "help". How do these ideas cross their minds? It's beyond him.
Speaking of that newest student, his name was Kenta. "Aye, Cian!" The blonde haired male gave a fellow salute from the stoned wall he sat on. There was an awkward silence that filled the air as Cian continued to walk wherever he was headed. "OK, uh, nice to see you...too?" Kenta held an unsure grin that twitched at some points.
However, not everyone can entirely be hated and isolated. There is always bound to be that one person to visit. A person who wasn't his mother who would yell at him. Not any of the construction workers who took their lunch breaks and tried to talk Cian into being a good little boy (words that sicken him). Who was this person? An older female who was the daughter of Professor Stockwell. She had a brother who was around Cian's age, but he was in a different, more prestigious life style currently. Has Cian met him? The same time that her brother had a broken nose. No word was spoken if Cian had socked him or not.
It was a light auburn colored hair female. She had her hair somewhat short with a blue bandanna to fit. Phoebe was her name and unlike her brother, she didn't want to become a trainer. In fact, she was a complete pacifist. So, she put her time forth to study Pokemon breeding and her father lent her a part of his acres to do her work. Cian found himself a spot in the wild grass to lie down.
"You're here early," Phoebe giggled as she held a basket of berries at her side. She lifted her sunflower decorated hat to smile down at the boy. "Would you like some oran berries?" Not a response was made. "OK, I'll leave some next to you, just in case, have a nice nap Cian." What was with her and that smile? Cian sometimes could not stand it when she would smile down at him like that. It ticked him more when anyone else would pass by and he had to pretend as if he didn't care. How does one show to not care if they lack to do the opposite? At the same time, Phoebe could really drive him up a wall. He did enjoy the fact he was able to watch her work in her green apron. The typical Pokemon breeder outfit.
A couple hours had to pass by until he could head home. It was hard to say if his mother knew he left straight out of class today. How she finds out is because some people are too noisy for their own good. Then there are days when she didn't even know. Those days seemed to appear less and less. Actually, he recalled that he tells her he left school. Why bother to lie if it would be a pain in the end? It was not worth the trouble to lie. For an hour, Cian slept away the best he could. Then he decided to sneak some of the oran berries that Phoebe left him. Damn her and providing irresistible sweets.
Cian stood to his feet and began on the path back home. It wasn't too far away from Professor Stockwell's laboratory and research facility.
"Listen boss, it's not here!" Normally, guys in big, long trench coats aren't around here. He eyed Cian then spoke down to him, "Get lost, you little punk."
Cian didn't pay any single amount of attention to him. His purpose was to get home where he could access a fridge. After that he figured that he could shower and brush his teeth (at the same time), then head to bed. Most students were heads over heals dedicating their time to studying. He only glanced solemnly at the review booklet to convince his mother that he bothered to read it. Why would someone bother to come to Solaris?
Solaris is merely a small town on the Eastrum Island. Eastrum does hold a small region for trainers, but all of them head off to different regions. Some of the different regions are Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, and Unova. Then there are other islands that have their own regional league. Would it be best to bother himself to turn back? Cian stopped and mentally reminded himself that he might grow tension to his own self-conscience.
Though, that guy had moved in the same direction. Cian turned and the guy removed his phone from his ear. "Don't mess with me kid," he seethed.
"Yeah, whoopie, I'm scared," Cian said without much focus on his sarcasm, "You should just leave, there's nothing interesting here."
The man furrowed his eyebrows as he grabbed Cian by the collar of his hooded top and asked, "You best be telling the truth boy."
"My lips do not lie," Cian bluntly answered him.
After the man unclenched him, he turned to walk back to where he came from. He also seemed frustrated. Cian shrugged it off and returned back onto his own path home. There were many flower gardens that varied long and wide. He stopped as a small stoop and stepped onto the patio. When he opened the door and stepped in, his mother stood there. She had her black colored hair tied up in a messy bun and eyes that stared in anguish. Arms were folded in front of her chest.
"Cian..." she said.