Well, it is coming to be my first-year anniversary on as a member and I figured that it was time to do another story. Most likely, I will try to update every two weeks. I am planning for the story to be about ten chapters, maybe more, maybe this is not my first story, it is my first Pokémon story so please, no flames! So, without further ado, I bring you...

An Inheritance

Chapter 1

It can be agreed that there is nothing more beautiful in the world than a garden tended to with love and devotion. A particular garden in Pallet Town is one of the finest.

This garden is the most fruit-bearing areas in the region. Plump, firm tomatoes hang off a branch, so weighted down that the stem is bent over like it is leaning toward a strong blown wind. The fruit, by the merest of margins, lightly brushes the ground, begging to be plucked. Healthy carrot plants bulge in the ground and the slightest orange of the vegetable can be seen. The leaves are perked and stiff and there is no sign of disease. With the uses of poles, the green beans grow on the side of the tiny Pallet residence growing past what would be the natural boundary if they were to grow in the wild. Instead, the plants have reached far past their capacity and are only held back by the most thoughtful of gardeners.

The land that this garden is cultivated on is quite ordinary. But, because of the woman who lives in the house nurtures the garden so regularly, like a mother and her newborn child, the garden flourishes almost unnaturally.

The woman who lives in this house has always been unaware of the miracle in her backyard. She had believed that anyone who would have attempted to grow a garden of their own would have received the same results. Never, in her wildest dreams, did she ever think that she was anything greater than a housewife and a mother.

Right then, she was tending to the garden, absentmindedly going through the motions of care examination of the rose leaves for signs of Diplocarpon Rosea. Her thoughts were not on her exquisite garden but rather her young son.

Once a ten year-old boy starting on a journey to be the best, he had matured to a less arrogant but more self-confident teenager. His battling style had vastly improved from the reckless one he had started with. Instead of going with the usual procedure of trying to trump your opponent with a type advantage, he would send out a Pokémon that, strategically speaking, was not the wisest choice. And yet, he still managed to conquer his foes time after time. After finally defeating Volkner in Sunyshore City, Ash decided to train in preparation for the Sinnoh League and his eventual confrontation with his rival, Paul.

For right now, Ash was traveling to the Cameron Palace to receive some sort of an inheritance from being the last Aura Guardian. He had talked Misty, his old traveling companion, into coming with him and Brock, both of the friends' old acquaintance, had decided to come as well. The old trio was back.

Wisely, Ash checked in with Professor Oak to exchange his Sinnoh team with his less experienced Pokémon from other regions. Ash's reasoning was that, eventually, he would run out of regions to battle in and, since he wanted to be a Pokémon Master, he needed to train his Pokémon equally and fairly and have them evolve and so he could reach the legendary 458 mark.

Some of Ash's older Pokémon had the chance of evolving if he put in the effort to train them and Ash would do just that. While he no longer had a true rival, he could not give up his arduous training lest both he and his Pokémon's strength failed.

As Mrs. Ketchum was multi-tasking by pruning her leaves and calculating how long it would take Ash to come back home; she mistakenly grabbed the rose bush's stem to hard and the thorns pierced her skin. Immediately, a scream of anguish filled the air and her Pokémon, Mr. Mime, hurriedly rushed to the house to grab a first-aid kit. The Mr. Mime sprinted from the house, sprang from the porch, and landed gracefully next to Mrs. Ketchum's bleeding hand. With his pudgy fingers, he gently grabbed Mrs. Ketchum's wrist and tenderly dabbed petroleum on the punctured skin. After doing so, he sprayed anti-germ on the cut and wrapped a bandage around her hand with a cheerful, "Mime, mime!"

"Thank you, Mr. Mime." Delia Ketchum gasped as her Pokémon led her into the house to rest. The loss of blood was relatively minimal but before her flesh was cut, she had had a premonition of the most dreadful kind. She had an ominous feeling of the outcome of Ash's short new journey and the possibilities of harm that could happen in the Cameron Palace. This premonition alone caused the cry of despair and the dazed Mrs. Ketchum hardly noticed the damaged palm.

As she walked away, neither her, nor her Pokémon saw the drops of blood left on the thorns of the rose bush as they slowly trailed down the stem, nor the slight drizzle coming, giving the appearance that it and the entire garden was weeping of a new tragedy introduced into the world.

The road to the palace was a decidedly long one.

Despite the surprising amount of variety on Route 118, from the Ratatta nibbling on the greens of the grass and the new foliage of the budding aspens to the Pidgey gathering sturdy sticks to form the framework of their nests, warily eyeing, and possibly attacking, travelers who meandered too close, seeing the same scenery was tedious. Of course, with the menacing clouds quickly approaching on the eastern front, the constant tranquility emanating from the entire landscape would be fleeting.

Even though the duration of their time in the Cameron Palace was to be a short one, the weight of his backpack, the provisions that were in there, and the Mouse Pokémon on his right shoulder ensured that the muscles Ash earned on the road during his days of travel in the different regions were not to be lost. While Misty might have teased him about his casual indifference to the time restraints that were upon them now and how it was likely due to his misplacing of lean muscles, Ash was certain—at least almost certain—that she was just teasing for the sake of teasing. Brock, while he once might have stood between the pair to stop the fighting, decided that Ash was being surprisingly mature and agreeable about her statement, and allowed the comment to go unopposed.

Now, Ash was lingering behind his two friends to gaze at their countenances and compare them with his memories of their past selves.

Brock, his closest human, male friend was as tall as ever with very little difference. His usual, stable attitude was as reliable as it used to be with a little more confidence than usual. While Brock might have been the most mature of the group, he did not use to have an air of confidence which only comes from the personal experiences one has from the world. For every solid step he took in his gait, the world could easily see the innate, quiet power Brock easily emanated.

As for his physical appearances, not much had changed except for his increased height and his increasingly scarred hands that marked him as the former-Gym Leader of Pewter City.

Though he doubted it, judging from his reaction of possibly meeting a princess descended from ancient times, Ash could only hope that his mental capabilities towards women had changed as well.

Glancing from the roughness to the softest of the group (where had that thought come from?), the Pallet trainer examined his best female friend.

At first glance, not much had changed in the intertwining years of their departure. But as he continued to look at Misty, Ash noticed small traits that in his younger years, he would have never paid attention to. Her once grating and irritating voice had evolved into lilting soprano voice that no longer spoke of condescending thoughts towards him but rather thoughtful inquires about his past few years and how they had gone.

Of course Ash, being Ash, failed to notice the almost jealous tone of voice she took when she heard of the other girls he had been traveling with. Nor did he detect the careful questioning Misty used when she discussed his relationships with them.

Her voice was not the only aspect of her that had changed. Her once flamboyant attitude that she shamelessly flaunted to everyone had denatured into a more controlled manner. Just as her untamed, flaming red hair had been tamed with clips and other kinds of hair products; it appeared as though the time spent as the Cerulean Gym Leader calmed her too.

Who would have guessed? Ash thought. Already, his attention was wandering to the events that were soon to take place in the Cameron Palace.

Misty eyed her friend speculatively.

Much had changed in the extensive years they had been separated. No longer did he show the forbearance of a mere child, throwing a temper tantrum when he lost a battle or succumbed to her superior intellect in a sparring match of theirs. Instead, he now had the grace to accept defeat with ease. And not only did he lose with grace, but Ash took his loss personal and used it to improve his battling techniques and inspire him to overcome his opponent. Though she never thought she would see the day when she could claim that Ash finally gained maturity and lost his infamous denseness.

The muscles she had pretended where absent was the most outrageous lie Misty had told him. Ash had already, by their world's standards, been a man since the day he turned ten, six years ago. However, the journey he had taken across four of the largest regions for Pokémon battling in the world, the different assortment of leagues he participated, even won, and the large array of Pokémon he had befriended then captured, was nothing compared to the growth in his character.

She stared at his eyes for a moment, examining the glazed look in the russet orbs until, immediately; they sharpened and looked her way. The words that had been at the tip of her tongue, ones drenched with Misty's deadly wit and smothered with mockery, left her promptly. The uncharacteristically speechless Misty stumbled upon suitable words and came up with nothing. A growing smirk beginning on Ash's lips exhibited his amusement at the Water Trainer's fumbling and inability to communicate. Wildly flinging her thoughts in any direction, she floundered onto a safe topic. She absolutely refused to look like an idiot to Ash

And, her words belying her disoriented mind, hurriedly exclaimed, "Ash Ketchum, I challenge you to a Pokémon battle!"

Huh. A slow start but, what can you expect from the first chapter? See you in two weeks, February 28, 2010.

Thus, I depart.