I was born not because I was wanted. No, I was born because my mother wanted my sister to live. I was the tool needed to save her. She had a disease, I've never really been told what. But they needed parts of me to save her life. By the time my sister came home I was three and she was eight. My mother didn't even remember me, But my sister knew all about me from our dad. She took me away from my mom and became the person I admire the most. She was the person who was kind to me. Our father was rarely around so we were left with my mother.

My mother was.. Abusive, to say the least, towards me. My father would try to control it but when he wasn't around, I was told I shouldn't exist. I was the child of my father’s mistress.. Even though she was my birth mother. I was a bastard, worthless and a waste of space in the world. My sister told me otherwise, that I was going to do good in the world and be good. I would be great some day. Oh how wrong she was. Maybe if you didn't leave.. Maybe if I went with you… you'd still be here today.

“This is your fault. You couldn't make her stay. She wasn't healthy enough to go out in the world. You should have tried harder.” The words I heard from everyone after the news broke. I tried so hard to get you to stay… to take me with you. But I'm even worthless at that.
 I let you go.

As we grew up together my sister’s health wavered and rebound numerous times. I either cared for her or stayed out of the way. I didn't need to add to the scars already painted on my body, across my mind and embedded in my soul. I tried my hardest to be a model student in school, a model child who did no wrong, a model person in society… but it was never enough. My mother never saw me as anything more than a burdening bastard that was wrong. But I tried anyway because she said one day it would matter. When she went out into the world my being good would matter. They would only be able to see me then. Her dream was to be a trainer. Nothing was going to stop her. Nothing. When she finally turned fourteen she fought with my parents until they allowed it. Her health was good. They made a chart on how and where she would have to meet with doctors for testing. But she had been in her longest healthy stretch of her life. Three years no issues. So it was time to let her go. I couldn't let her go, I cried and begged as she packed her bags. Watching her pack medical supplies that normally wouldn't go with a trainer. I began trying to use logic against her.

“What if your health falters?”
 “Then I'll go to the doctor, silly.”

 “What if there are no doctors near?”
 “Well I'll do what I can to get one to me. I do have a phone”
 “What if your on a cold mountain and can't move..”
 “My pokemon will help me move. They will protect me.”


She wasn't much for logic. There was nothing I could say to make her stay.

 “Who will protect me?”
 Was all I could think but I couldn't make the words leave my throat. I couldn't take her dream away.

She left me there crying with her words of love and that shed be back soon ringing in my ears. The moment she was out of sight all I remember is sharp pain in the back of my head and black. It was my mother. Everything went downhill from there. My arm was broken in a ‘freak’ accident, I constantly had black eyes and bruising in weird places. A few years past and I kept my connection with my sister. Her coming home soon evolved into eventually as she traveled regions. It was okay, she didn't have to know what was going on here. All she needed to know was ‘I was good. She was right about our mother.’

Then one night I awoke to the ungodly sound of my mother screeching and crying. I snuck out of my room to see what was happening. Her and my father were at the door, crying as a man in official police uniform spoke with them. He wasn't from here, That uniform wasnt from Kanto. I realized all too suddenly what he was saying. I couldn't breathe, I fell to the ground all I could see were tears hitting the ground and the blurred image of my hands. I wanted to throw up… I wanted to scream. I wanted to die…. I wanted to take her place. My mother felt the same way.. About me.

 It was my fault.. If I had told the truth she would still be here. She would have come home. She wouldn't have died alone. It should have been ME…

The day after her funeral my father came home to find me on the ground bleeding out. My mother was cheerfully making dinner like nothing had happened. I remember being slightly conscious and hearing my mother ‘Just leave that I'll clean it up after dinner’ as my father panicked. While he wasn't home much he was the only one left that cared and treated me like a human. My father rushed me to the hospital and my mother went to a psych ward to be evaluated. While she was gone my father told me he was sending me away for my safety. But I didn't want to go.

She would come home any day now. I couldn't shake it. My sister would come home.

But before I knew it I was packing bags as quickly as I could before my mother came home. I stood in front of her room. I had to take something, anything, from her room just to prove she existed. Then off I was. I was quickly shipped to live with my aunt and cousins. I was in a new world at only twelve. I spent the rest of my school years here trying to learn as much as I could and be a good student. Trying to make my sister proud, but a disdain for the people here as I had moved from one abuse to another though this one was at the hands of the children my own age.

Many of them left to be a trainer, but it was like when one cycled out a new one replaced them. Thankfully I had King to protect me for the time he was in high school with me. Other than that I was on my own. For some reason I kept things to myself when my father would call the few times he did until he forgot about me. I had fallen into myself wanting nothing to do with the people around me. I guess that's when I decided that I would find a way to avenge my sister. Someone joked about shadow pokemon legend when they heard where I was from. It all clicked in place. I will destroy training as it is now. I will avenge her death.

I graduated school just in time to get the call that I was being brought back home. He didn't give a reason why. But I was forced to do this even in fear of facing my mother. As I met with my father, she wasn't there. He told me that she had died. Finally the wicked Witch was dead. After her funeral I started hunting for any signs of the old history books of Kanto looking to find any inkling of how to bring things back. I spent five years hunting for anything on revival. HE found a mystic that said they could bring back the lost in Galar. That's all I could find in five years so I began hunting for this traveling mistic in Galar and other countries.

Only to be told that the mystic had moved to another region, Kanto. They owned a business training psychics and mystics. This was perfection. I bid my father goodbye and I left for Lera. Now was the time I was going to find my way into a team.

My long story was just beginning. Would you like to hear how it started?