Pokémon Light Edition: Elara’s Strife

The sky above Camphrier Town was a clear, shimmering blue, streaked with the orange glow of the setting sun. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of Oran berries, and the sounds of Wingulls in the distance echoed like the songs of a simpler time. The townspeople had gathered, smiling and waving, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. To them, it was: another young trainer, another adventure. But for the girl standing at the town's entrance, something about all this felt deeply unsettling.

Elara shifted nervously on her feet, her hand gripping the straps of her small travel bag. Her long chestnut hair caught the breeze, dancing around her delicate face, but her eyes—brilliant, deep green—were clouded with worry. The people of Camphrier Town cheered her on as if she were embarking on a grand festival, but to her, this was something else entirely.

Behind her, her parents stood, their faces glowing with pride. Elara's mother, tall and stern, waved with one hand while clutching her father's arm with the other. Her father smiled broadly, as though this was the best day of their lives. But Elara couldn't help but feel a pit of dread forming in her stomach.

She leaned closer to her parents, her voice low, so only they could hear. "Are you sure this is okay?" she whispered, her fingers trembling slightly. "I'm only thirteen… And I—" She hesitated. "I'm a girl."

Her father's smile faltered for a moment, but her mother merely looked puzzled.

"Of course it's okay, dear," her mother said, her voice lilting with that edge of impatience Elara had grown to know too well. "Every child who dreams of becoming a Pokémon Master goes on their journey at your age. You're actually lucky! Most kids start at eleven." Her mother nudged her father, who nodded enthusiastically. "You've had two extra years to prepare!"

Elara bit her lip, her brows knitting together. Two extra years, she thought bitterly. Two extra years to push it off, hoping for something—anything—that might prevent this. She didn't feel ready then, and she didn't feel ready now.

"But—" Elara started to say something else, maybe even plead her case one more time, but her mother stepped behind her, gripping her shoulder firmly.

"Enough now," her mother said with a forced smile, steering Elara towards the entrance to Route 5, the dusty path that would lead her to Lumiose City. "You need to get going if you want to reach the next town before dark. Come on now. Off you go."

Elara stopped, glancing over her shoulder. "But what about—"

"You have your 500 Poké Dollars, don't you?" her mother said briskly, her tone clipped.

"Yes, but…" Elara frowned, trying to explain the math in her head. "A single potion costs 300 Poké Dollars! What am I supposed to do with only 500?"

Her mother's eyes narrowed, her hand squeezing Elara's shoulder just a little tighter. "Elara, stop stalling. You'll figure it out like every other child does. I don't know why you're making such a fuss. You've been dreaming of this since you could walk."

That wasn't true, but Elara bit her tongue. This wasn't her world. It hadn't been her world for thirteen years—technically less, if she counted the life she had before this one. A life in a world where thirteen-year-olds didn't go traipsing off into the wild to fight magical creatures. A world where parents didn't shove their kids into a dangerous wilderness with only a handful of cash and a tiny animal for protection.

"I…" Elara started again, but before she could get another word out, her mother sighed dramatically.

"Elara, honestly," her mother's voice dropped, her patience worn thin. "It's time for you to go, so I can finally take that vacation." She said it so matter-of-factly, so casually, that it felt like a slap in the face.

Vacation. That's what this was all about. Elara had suspected, of course. Her mother had been dropping hints for years now—about how Elara was old enough, about how the house would be so much quieter once she was off on her 'journey.' And now, with Elara out of the house, her mother could finally take that long-awaited break, away from everything—away from her own daughter.

Elara stiffened, her throat tightening with frustration, but there was no point in arguing. She knew that look in her mother's eyes: firm, unwavering, final. It was the same look her mother had when Elara had begged to stay home the first time, at eleven. And again at twelve. This year, there was no room left for begging.

With a resigned sigh, Elara adjusted her bag and glanced at the Poké Ball clipped to her belt. Inside was her starter, an Espurr, who she hadn't even named yet. The whole idea of bonding with a Pokémon was the only thing that felt… familiar. However, it still felt like playing into a script she hadn't signed up for. But here she was, a reluctant actor in a world that wasn't her own.

Elara took one last look at her parents. Her father, still beaming with oblivious pride, and her mother, her arms crossed, waiting for her to finally go. She turned towards the entrance to Route 5, her feet dragging through the dirt path as she slowly began walking.

"Good luck, dear!" her father called after her. "We're so proud of you!"

"Be safe!" her mother added, though the words felt hollow.

Elara didn't look back. She couldn't. If she did, she might say something she'd regret. Or worse, she might cry.

As she crossed the threshold into the tall grass, the sounds of the town faded behind her. Alone now, she let out a long, deep breath and muttered under her breath, "What a weird world."

She scowled, glancing at the Poké Ball on her belt. "In my old world, no one would get away with abandoning their kids like this. There's gotta be CPS or something, right?" Her lips twisted into a grim smirk. "If there is, they're doing a terrible job."

The wind rustled through the grass around her, as if in answer. She snorted, shaking her head. "Guess I'll just have to figure it out," she mumbled to herself. "Welcome to your second life, Elara."

As she trudged down the path, kicking up dust with each step, a strange mix of anger and regret flared up inside her. She'd make it to Lumiose City. She'd survive this ridiculous 'journey.' And maybe, just maybe, she'd find a way to make this world make sense. Or at the very least, she'd survive long enough to figure out why fate had dumped her into a place where kids were tossed into the wild with barely any money, a cat, and a dog for company.

"Whatever this world throws at me," Elara muttered, adjusting the strap of her bag, "I've already survived one life. I can handle this."