Chapter 1 – Forgotten

Not far from Viridian City, there existed the largest mountain in the known world. The mountain wasn't simply tall, or wide. It was both of those, but it was not known as the most dangerous locale in the world simply because of its size. To reach the summit, one had to brave pitch black caves. Even if one had the means to light the way, where would one go? The caves were a maze, branching off to dead ends and looping back to negate any progress made. On top of that, the wild pokemon would attack at any opportune moment. The lower caves were swarming with deadly Golbat and Sneasel while on the upper levels it would not be amiss to see Donphan and Ursaring. If one were to go even higher, there were wild Tyranitar. It was not for nothing that the mountain was known as the most dangerous place in the world. Add to this the sub-zero temperatures and thin air and it was counted amongst the inhospitable places as well. Not many trainers attempted to enter such a place, let alone climb to the very top. To count the number of humans who had reached the very top, not more than one hand was required. No more than two hands for the number of humans who had even attempted. About half of those died in the attempt. It was only reasonable that the mountain was closed off to regular people by order of the League.

There was a small town some distance away that had sprung up to support the specially created Silver Guard whose purpose was two-fold – the first was to keep upstart young trainers away. Every now and then some kid high off his or her Gym victory would think themselves able to take on the Wild. The Silver Guard kept out those trainers, who would rage and bellow in impotent frustration but would have no choice but to leave, safe and sound with their lives still in their hands. The only trainers permitted to pass were veteran pokemon rangers, and that too only to investigate any unusual patterns or symptoms. Even for them, staying in groups of at least three were mandated and they didn't venture deep inside. Beyond that, only Champions were allowed in. Champions were, by the very nature of their position, highly above average. They were far ahead of the run of the mill trainer and it was accepted that they would be able to cope with the challenges posed by the mountain.

The second objective of the Silver Guard was to keep out the Wild. Once in a while a few Golbat or some stragglers from a herd of Donphan would investigate the new structures built by the humans, but the large walls and powerful trainers of the Silver Guard were more than adequate to handle these. Till now there had been no attempt en masse, and the Silver Guard were content to let it stay that way. There was no telling what the result of such an encounter would be.

All of this – the Silver Guard, the village, the barrier to entry, were relatively recent developments. The Silver Guard had been created a few years ago, maybe seven or eight. Before that, Mount Silver had been relatively unknown. People knew there was a dangerous mountain and it had been named of course, but nobody had really investigated it. A young Champion had gone up, or at least tried. He had very recently attained the position and his ascension up the mountain was followed closely by the press. For many days there was no sign on him. A search party had gone out, with only one trainer returning after some days. He was a gibbering wreck for days and when he was finally intelligible, he spoke about the dark passageways and powerful pokemon inside. He went into great detail about how his group was engaged in guerrilla warfare by the wild pokemon. It was abundantly clear that in a battle of attrition, only the Wild would win. He himself had only made it out by luck.

There was no second search party. The Champion had been given up for dead. And the Silver Guard had been formed, so that no other young trainers would lose their lives before their time. Even though a Champion had died on the mountain, he had been quite young. Assuming that his death was caused due to his inexperience, the mountain was not closed to other Champions.

Three years later, another Champion attempted to make the climb. The press had been gathered there for days, waiting to see if he would follow in the footsteps of his predecessor or if he would return triumphantly having conquered the almighty Wild. When he was finally spotted exiting the cave that led into the mountain, the Silver Guard was almost overwhelmed by reporters rushing to be the first get a quote. When the Champion finally reached the gate, he answered almost all their questions. The wild pokemon were crazy strong. No, he had not been overwhelmed but it had been close at times. Yes, the mazes were quite untraversable. The weather was beyond freezing but his Fire pokemon was able to reduce the brunt of it.

After he had regaled them with a few of the stories of how he had been ambushed and then turned the tide on the Wild, a reporter spoke up.

"Mr. Champion sir, did you reach the top?"

The Champion stared at the reporter, an unassuming, short man. After what seemed like hours but was only a few seconds, he replied in the negative. And then refused to answer any more questions. He excused himself and flew away on his pokemon. Since that day, people wondered about his moment of hesitation. Was it due to frustration that he had not been able to reach the top? Or was he hiding something? Curiosity ignited desire. Many people wanted to know more about Mount Silver and gathered there in droves. Obviously they were not qualified to enter and were turned away at the gate.

Slowly the hubbub died out. Normal life resumed and most people forgot all about Mount Silver and its mysteries. But not all. Some years later, Two Champions from other regions covertly made the attempt. They had gone completely under the radar so there was no press coverage or any reporters waiting for them outside. They headed back to their continents when they were out, holding on to each other's vow of silence. But when questioned in their own regions, by people they implicitly trusted, they spoke of something at the very top, nothing more than a silhouette in the perpetual snow.

X—X—X

A trainer stood at the edge of a ridge at the peak of Mount Silver. He was of average height, with a slender but wiry build. Living in these harsh conditions for years left not an ounce of fat on his body. His hair was ragged and unkempt since he had cut it himself using a razor leaf and a reflection which was more blur than clear. His cheeks and chin were adorned with a scraggly beard. A faded and battered cap stood atop his head. His clothes were tattered; they had been patched and re-patched so many times that he looked as if he was wearing furs instead of actual clothes. This was for the best, since in their original condition the clothes would not have fit him. He had changed quite a bit since he had arrived at this place all those years ago, growing up both physically and mentally.

He had not been arrogant per se, but he had thought that he could bite off more than he could chew. This mountain was not for the faint hearted. He had been too young, too inexperienced. He had put his own life at risk and more importantly, the life of his pokemon. He had not judged the strength of the wild pokemon as accurately as he should have. He had been one of the best back then (if a little reckless) and he had rightly judged that he could take care of himself in the mountain. A short trip would have been fine, but an extended stay? If he had known then what he knew now…then what? What would he have done differently? Probably nothing. He knew it had been chancy even then. But he had no choice. It was do or die for him. He needed this. It was his chance at fulfilling his deepest yearning, his lifelong ambition.

He had spent many years up there; he wasn't sure how long exactly it had been. His watch was long broken and his pokedex was just a brick. There were no charging points up there, and even the weakest jolt from his Electric pokemon had sent too much power into the device and fried its circuits. There was not much in the way of amenities. He lived in a shallow cave, barely big enough for his pokemon and him. He slept on a boulder that had been pummelled by his pokemon until it resembled a bed vaguely. There was no mattress. He had to hunt for his food and melt snow to get water. His only source of entertainment were his pokemon and the few books that he had carried with him.

Yet he lived this lifestyle; bore freezing winds, bone chilling frost and overwhelming snow every single day. And for what? Why had he climbed the most feared mountain in the world? Why had he braved unending hordes of some of the wildest and most feral pokemon ever seen? What preposterous ambition could he have to suffer so? To develop his skills as a Trainer and to strengthen his pokemon, of course. There had been no doubt about it when he had made the decision to train up here.

He had been one of the best back then, but he would not rest until he was the absolute very best.

He had been training nonstop for years, in the harshest of climates. His pokemon had established dominance on the mountain. All the wild pokemon now accepted them as the de facto alpha pack, giving way when they passed and bringing small tokens of tribute every once in a while. But it hadn't always been this way. It had taken time to build authority. Time, and countless challenges. For the first few months every night two of his pokemon would have to keep watch to guard against sorties by the Wild. They would come as ambushes, completely unexpectedly. Sometimes it would be Golbat, dropping silently from the skies. Sometimes Weavile, creeping inside the shadows. Some nights they would come and some they wouldn't. There was no way to know which night it would be. This had been demoralising in the beginning. Staying awake all night, not knowing if that night would have fighting or not. Not knowing if that was the night the Wild would finally get the drop on him. It took a toll on him as well as his pokemon. It caused a bone deep weariness that could not be allayed by food or sleep. It was fear. Deadly, crippling fear. That was the only time he had seriously contemplated leaving and going back to where he came from.

But this was the best place for him to train. Powerful pokemon, extreme weather, no humans to interfere. Peace and the Wild. The experience his pokemon would gain would be essential to his ultimate goal. Every night he would convince himself to stay one more day, but it was getting more and more difficult. His pokemon were being run ragged. They didn't have enough time to recover since there was no pokemon centre for instant convalescence. He didn't know how long they could last.

And then something changed. Some tipping point was reached, he didn't know what exactly. His pokemon had adapted to the climate, to the strength of the Wild and so had he. As a result of this and more importantly, the Wild succumbed. They gradually stopped attacking once they saw that they were being defeated more and more easily. The trainer's pokemon were developing and growing. Soon the Wild pokemon stood no chance against them. Where earlier they would conserve all their energy to battle against the Wild, now they were free to actually train. And train they did, pushing themselves harder and further than they had ever gone before.

Now he knew that his pokemon could stand their own against the Wild. But he didn't really know how much it would take until he reached the pinnacle amongst his own kind. Maybe he was already there, or maybe he had much further to go. After all, while he had spent time training up here, it was also time that other trainers must have spent training. There were people who had been his equal or close enough back then and if they had been training for as long as he had, then they could be stronger than him. It had been years since anyone had reached him. After so long, it didn't look like anyone was even going to. The only way to know his position was to get off this mountaintop and see for himself.

He had been subconsciously looking towards his hometown. When he realised that, he was not surprised. His line of thinking had all but guaranteed that. If he was going down the mountain, that would be the first place he would go to. At that height all he could see was the dull grey of swirling snow and frozen clouds but in his mind he could picture exactly what was happening there, provided things hadn't changed. It had been a sleepy little town; the most prominent building being the laboratory of the greatest mind in pokemon research, Professor Oak.

The trainer turned away and looked towards his pokemon who were lounging nearby, if not training. One by one, they felt their trainer's regard and stopped their current activity to look at him expectantly. He could feel the affection they bore for him. It was a physical thing, replete with the kind of unconditional love and trust that only comes with time. They had been with him through thick and thin, never wavering, never questioning. He could not let them down. He nodded once, and gave the order to pack up. There was a moment of silence, during which his partners sat there stunned. Then chaos.

It felt good to be going home.

AN. So, people who have read my other story can probably tell the difference. This Red is going to be slightly different than the other one. Chapters will be shorter, but probably more frequent. I've tried to work on my writing style also, to add more descriptions and details. Hope you guys enjoy and please leave a review!