Dusty, tawny shafts of Karzimmian sunlight flickered into the bedroom to illuminate a tiny wooden bed where a girl was sprawled, black tendrils of hair fanning the pillow against which her cheek was pressed as she slept. Slowly, the rays of sunshine crawled over her tanned olive arms and tickled her face, whispering a sleepy hello.
"Ranza," called a deep voice in the distance. "Ranza, it's time to get up."
Still the girl slept on as she hugged her tan quilt closer and shifted against the white sheets that, like everything else in the tiny hut, were home to a layer of dust.
"Raaanza," the man's voice repeated, more insistently this time. "Wake up, or you'll be late."
Once more, he heard no response. Muttering something against her - dusty - pillow, Ranza buried her face in the threadbare cushion and flopped upside down onto her stomach. More sunbeams fell onto her wavy mop of tangles, though even then the gradually widening stream of light was not enough to highlight the entire expanse of her dark shock.
"Ranza!" By now the man was shouting. "Esperanza Tempeste, do I have to come in there and throw a bucket of ice water on you?"
The word "ice" seemed to wake her up. Ranza woke with a start and sat up as though electrocuted, dark eyes flung open. They began to sway dizzily shut before they popped wide again, even more so than they'd been three seconds ago.
"Oh Arceus! Today's the day today's the day today's finally the freaking day!" She sprang out of bed, leaving the quilt in a dusty, crumpled heap atop the thin mattress, and rushed around the room in an almost drunken excitement. "Papa! I'm coming! No need for the ice treatment, no need at all! Today's the day today's the day today's the day…"
"Alright," came the amused reply. "Hurry, though, or your breakfast will get cold. And you need to feed – er, and wake up Potato too."
As she threw on her favorite white sundress, Ranza hollered back, "I'll be down in a second!" She continued chanting her three-worded song – well, a monotonous one that consisted of three words, anyway – as she finished tugging on sepia leggings, her signature chunky bracelet, and a pair of white sandals lightly covered in sand. The huge brown beads on her bracelet clunked on her wrist as she dashed in and out of the bathroom and then into the kitchen, where her father was waiting with breakfast.
Fausto Tempeste looked at his daughter, disheveled but bright-eyed, and clucked loudly. "Look at you, chiquita. You're a mess. I will have no daughter of mine walk through the door looking like she just rolled around in the sand wrestling with a Sandile. And did you make your bed, or did you just throw your blanket in the corner like you usually do?" Ranza's sheepish look was enough to confirm his suspicions, as he threw his hands up in the air with a theatric groan, nudging her gently back in the direction of her bedroom. "Go! Go make that room pristine, and try to do the same with your appearance too while you're at it. But it's okay if you can't. I know that hair of yours has a mind of its own."
"Hey!" protested Ranza, who was giggling nonetheless. "I'll be back in a snap," she called over her shoulder as she scrambled back toward her room, still singing her three-worded mantra in a horribly off-tune voice.
The door burst open with a bang! sufficient to wake even the laziest Snorlax up. Humming under her breath, Ranza shook out the rumpled shroud that was her blanket, straightened it, and aligned it with the bedpost until it was straight. Pretty much, anyway. She was sure Papa wouldn't care that much (and if he did, she'd be long gone before he noticed, anyway), then turned to the rest of the room. She'd never noticed before, but there was a lot of stuff scattered around in the corners, to the side, everywhere. They were little things, like Pokemon doodles that she'd abandoned midway through or dirty clothes strewn across the dusty floorboards. Still, it was going to take forever to clean all of it up!
So in typical Ranza fashion, she did half the work: crumpled the doodles into little paper balls that she launched at the waste basket, which she missed half the time (thus making a bigger mess and having to jump forward to toss the balls in manually); hastily folded the clothes and stacked them on the side; and kicked everything else under the bed. Hey, it wasn't like she had that much. Well, not under the bed, anyway.
She stood and darted to the doorway before turning and surveying her room for what she suddenly realized would be the last time – for a while, I mean, she amended, a little weirded out by the implications of that. I'm definitely gonna come back after I travel around and explore. And find out what happened to Mama. No doubt about that. Still, there was a funny, nagging sensation in her stomach that she swiftly chalked up to be just nerves; after all, couldn't waste any more time dwelling on silly things when she had a journey to undertake, could she?
"Today's the da-ay," she sang gaily, already dismissing the matter and bustling into the bathroom, where she splashed cool water on her – predictably – dusty cheeks, ran a comb through her hair before realizing it was futile, and dusted off her dress best as she could. The layer of dust that still clung stubbornly to her skin didn't really bug her too much, though; it was something that you had to get used to in a desert town like Sandune, or else you'd go out of your mind (and possibly blind) from all of it. From a quick glance in the chipped looking glass, she deemed herself passable in her father's eyes and raced out the door back into the kitchen.
"There, that's better," said Fausto approvingly as Ranza swung herself onto a stool. "Here you go: a fresh helping of Pokebread and Grepa Berries. Eat up, mija!"
She reached for them, but before her hand was even halfway back to her mouth, her father interjected, "Oh, and wake up Potato. She will not want to miss out on such a tasty meal, sí?"
"Muuust I?"
A stern look answered her disgruntled whine.
"Okay, fine," she sighed, putting down her warm loaf and staring at it wistfully. "But that's my bread. Don't steal it!" Papa just chuckled and shooed her off with his hands, settling down on their only other stool and reaching for the second loaf of bread. Giving him a warning look, Ranza hurtled out the door and toward the nearest pit, where she found a small orange creature curled up and dozing in the already burning sun. As usual.
"Come on, now, wake up." Ranza edged closer and clapped her hands loudly, but to no avail. She rolled her eyes. It wasn't even that she hated her Pokemon, because she didn't. But as much as Ranza reminded herself that she was lucky even to be allowed a starter Pokemon by the government, it didn't stop her from feeling disappointed and exasperated that said Pokemon's interests started at "eating," continued to "sleeping," and stopped there. Oh, whywhywhy couldn't I have gotten a nice Sandshrew, or even a Rattata? With slight irritation, Ranza stared down at the tiny Pokemon. How's she supposed to help me in battles, anyway? Swing that huge head of hers around and knock everyone out?
Again, she clapped her hands. "Oi, Potato. Wake up."
The Trapinch groaned and muttered something that sounded like "Tratratra."
"Wake up!" This time, the loud words seemed to do the trick, as Potato seemed to be coming around. At last she opened her eyes, grunted, and squinted at Ranza – almost as if she were asking, What do you want?
"It's time for breakfast, Potato," Ranza stated, raising an eyebrow in impatience and waving a hand back at the small house. "You'd better come in. It might get rough on the journey, 'cause I don't know when or where we might find the nearest Pokemon center after we set off. And, I mean, I know you like eating, so…"
More squinting. Followed by another grunt. Then the orangey-brown Pokemon slowly hoisted herself to her stumpy legs and pawed her way out of the pit. Pleased, Ranza clapped her hands a third time and led the way back to the house, checking over her shoulder several times to be sure that Potato hadn't abruptly changed her mind and decided sleeping was more important than eating. Fortunately, she hadn't, though if she had, Ranza had decided to give up. It simply wasn't worth so much effort – if the darn Pokemon was going to be purposely difficult, she concluded, then so be it. It wouldn't be Ranza's stomach that rumbled in the desert due to laziness, after all.
"Welcome back." Fausto nodded over his bread and a handful of yellow Grepa berries. "Good morning, Potato. I hope you enjoy this nice meal we laid out today."
Potato nodded back and headed straight for the table, as did Ranza. She took her seat and munched on her Pokebread as Potato struggled to climb up the table until at last Ranza took pity on the poor thing. "Here, sit on my lap," she said, trying to soften her voice. It probably didn't work, as Potato looked at her and looked like she was having some internal battle of some sort, until at last she seemed to decide that eating food was more important than having to sit on Ranza's lap.
Putting down her bread and trying not to fidget, the Karzimmian girl picked Potato up gingerly and set the - mercifully still - Trapinch down on her lap. She was surprisingly heavy, Ranza noticed: seemed somewhere between thirty and forty pounds, maybe.
Potato leaned forward and took a huge bite out of Ranza's Pokebread, much to the latter's surprise. "Hey!" she objected, trying to swipe the bread back, but Potato's jaws were tightly clamped around the loaf. "Potato. That's my bread!"
"Let her have it," chuckled Fausto, who had been quietly watching the whole scene unfold. "Here, you can have the rest of my bread." He tossed the chunk over to Ranza, who made sure to catch it before Potato could unhinge her ginormous mouth – seriously, that thing had to weigh at least ten pounds on its own – and steal it too.
"Thanks," she said and looked down at Potato. "Looks like I'm gonna have a lot to deal with, huh?"
"You will, but then you already knew that and didn't care, didn't you?" said her papa, raising a bushy black eyebrow at her. A knock to the door ended their exchange, and he rose. "I'll get that. Finish your bread by the time I'm back!"
As he bustled off, Ranza looked down at the orange creature on her lap, who had already finished the soft brown bread and was now nibbling down several Grepa berries. "You and your huge appetite," she said, trying to sound stern in the nicest way possible. "We're going to have to do something about that while we're traveling. We won't have that much food when we're on the road." The Trapinch gave a noncommittal grunt, obviously not too concerned, and Ranza let out a rushing sigh.
"That was a big sigh," Papa commented as he walked back inside. "And your bread isn't done yet. You had better hurry because the man who was just at the door was a government official."
Instantly Ranza sat up straight. "Oh? What'd he say?"
"Gave me this package and told me to give it to you." Papa handed the parcel, wrapped in rough brown paper, to Ranza, whose hands grabbed and stroked it eagerly. It was bulky and bulbous, she found, like there were little plants growing underneath it. "And he said something about you going to a Pokemon center in Jerisso, where someone will give you a Pokedex and a trainer's license to start your journey. Also something about watching out for the KLA. Twitchy sort of fellow, that one."
"Jerisso, huh? That's not too far from here. Maybe a few days at most," remarked Ranza, already flushed and grinning with anticipation. She resumed eating her bread with renewed enthusiasm.
"Indeed." Papa's glittering black eyes were looking at her in concern now. "But remember, the only route to Jerisso is through the desert, and that will be no easy feat. Also, Ranza, I have something for you and a few things to say when you're done."
"Okay." Ranza popped the last of the sweet Pokebread into her mouth and nudged Potato, who was sucking down all of the berries as though she were a wormhole. "Hey, I gotta get off now." The bug-like Pokemon seemed peeved but dipped her head, so Ranza carefully put her on the floor and walked to her father, who beckoned her further away from the table.
"First things first," Fausto began, "since the day I found out you would be going on a journey, I have been setting aside money to buy you some supplies. It isn't much, but here is a backpack to put your things in, a canteen, and Go-Goggles to use when the desert winds are particularly strong. I have filled the canteen and put it, all the Pokebread and berries I could get, a few thousand Poke dollars, and a jacket in the backpack."
Ranza accepted the items with shaky, dumbfounded hands, slinging the mud-brown bag over her shoulders and grasping the gray goggles tightly. "Papa, I… this must have cost a lot. Thank you."
"Money is nothing when it comes to ensuring my little one's safety." Her father smiled, curving his eyes into crinkly black crescents. "Second, let me just start by telling you how very proud I am of you. It seems it was just yesterday when you were but three, hopping up and down and demanding to know everything about the world. How quickly the years pass! Now you are almost fifteen and a beautiful young woman. But you will always be my chiquita, no matter how old and gray your hair may turn. Remember that."
Feeling her face split into a soft smile, Ranza spread her arms out to hug him, but he stopped her with a crooked finger. "There's more. Third, while you're out traveling the world, have fun, but be careful. Ranza, you have a tendency to run into things headlong and never consider them carefully, like you and Potato. I see the way you look at her, the way you hold her as though she is a foul-smelling bomb. There is no pleasure in the way you talk to her, and I see none of the passion that made those government officials pick you that day. You must not disregard your Pokemon simply because she is not the one you envisioned. Care for her, let her grow, and in time she will become powerful and fearsome."
"Is that all?" asked Ranza stiffly.
"Almost. Do not be mad at me, my little one." Papa reached out to ruffle her hair. "I say this not to hurt you but because I don't want you to make hasty judgments that you will regret. Be wary of the war between the KLA and the United States. Do not join either of them right away until you've thought about it long and hard, and join because you want to, not because someone else does. Nobody can make a choice for you. But above all, be safe and use your head. You will never fail if you do."
He stopped, looked down at his daughter, and finally grinned. "Now I'm done. You can hug me." Laughing, Ranza did so, throwing her arms around his sun-warmed vest and holding tight. "You and Potato should be going now, or you won't reach Jerisso in time."
"Okay." She sniffled a little and whiffed in her father's scent: fresh from Pokebread and dry, like sand. It was home. He was home. "Papa, I'm going to miss you."
"And I you," he said gently, stroking her hair. "Always remember that I love you, mi muñequita."
She hung on a little longer. Be strong, Ranza, she thought, steeling herself to let go and walk to Potato. "Up you go," she chirped, swinging the Trapinch, who seemed startled at her sudden affability, onto her shoulder and heading out the door. "Bye Papa! I'll call you as soon as I reach the Pokemon center."
"Bye, mija," he said, smiling and waving.
She walked to the edge of town, looked back at Sandune one last time. "I guess this is it, huh, Potato?" Ranza mused to the Ant Pit Pokemon perched on her shoulder. "The day I've been awaiting for so long - the day when I finally go on a Pokemon journey around Karzim. Today's that day. Today's finally the freaking day."
"Pinpinch," replied the Trapinch.
Her trainer grinned, and with that, the two set off into the desert.
