The mornings in Pallet Town were gentle things. The mist rolled off the hills in silver sheets, clinging to the grass, while Pidgey calls echoed like a natural alarm clock. For most children, it was the beginning of another day filled with dreams of adventure. For Ren Silen, it was another day of pretending his life was normal when it absolutely wasn't.
He was awake long before dawn, perched cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom, notebooks scattered around him. His hand moved quickly across the page, scratching down diagrams of battle formations, probability trees, and lists of evolutionary branches. He'd long run out of paper from Professor Oak's research packets and had resorted to his mother's old journals.
The pages glowed faintly, not from the lamp, but from the small orb of ghostly flame that hovered beside him. Ghastly floated lazily in the corner, watching with wide eyes as Ren sketched. The ghost gave a low chuckle, amused at his human's endless obsession with numbers and possibilities.
Ren chewed the end of his pencil. "Okay. Eevee. Known evolutions: Vaporeon, Jolteon, Flareon. But… I know there's more."
He tapped the page, where he'd written:
Espeon (psychic) = bond + day.
Umbreon (dark) = bond + night.
Leafeon (grass) = moss stone.
Glaceon (ice) = ice stone.
Sylveon (fairy) = affection + fairy move.
His handwriting trailed off at the bottom:
Ghost? (Speculation: bond with death energy, ghost stone?)
Ren sighed and leaned back. The irony of it made him grin. Here he was, a kid in the Pokémon world, writing down things that no one here could even imagine yet. If Oak saw this, he'd probably faint.
Ghastly snickered, leaning down to nudge his shoulder with a puff of mist.
"Yeah, yeah," Ren muttered. "I'm overthinking. But hey, if I can figure out how to make a ghost-type Eevee, my haunted house will be perfect."
That dream made him smile every time he thought about it. Not Champion, not Professor, not Elite Four heir. Just a big, creaky mansion on a hill, filled with every ghost Pokémon he could find. A place where shadows danced in the windows and laughter echoed through the halls. A place people would whisper about, daring each other to go near.
His haunted house. His home.
The floorboards creaked. Ren quickly snapped the notebook shut. His bedroom door opened and his brother leaned in.
Kane Silen filled the doorway like a bonfire fills a hearth, tall, broad-shouldered, hair a deep ember red that seemed to shimmer in the light. His eyes, sharp and warm, scanned the mess of papers, then settled on Ren with the same half-amused, half-exasperated look he always wore.
"Still scribbling, huh?" Kane asked, stepping in. "You're supposed to be a kid, Ren, not an old man researcher."
Ren rolled his eyes. "Better than swinging around a flaming stick all morning."
Kane smirked. "That flaming stick is a Charizard's tail, thank you very much."
Ghastly cackled at the jab, floating upside down in approval.
Kane's gaze flicked to the ghost and softened just a little. He never said it out loud, but Ren knew he was worried about him. Kane trained fire-types, strong, direct, proud. Ren? He had a floating prankster made of gas. Their paths couldn't be more different.
"Mom wants you downstairs," Kane said finally. "Breakfast. And don't keep her waiting, or she'll sic Mismagius on you again."
Ren shuddered at the memory. "Noted."
The Silen household was… unusual, even for Pallet Town.
The smell of herbs and incense filled the kitchen, mixing with the sharp tang of bitter tea. The air was cooler than outside, always just a little too chilly for comfort. Faint whispers seemed to hum in the walls, though no one ever admitted to hearing them.
His mother, Liora Silen, sat at the table. Her hair was long and silver, tied loosely back, her eyes soft but with that same distant edge Ren had come to know as "ghost-type trainer focus." Her Gengar stood behind her like a shadow given form, grinning broadly as it stirred sugar into her tea with stubby claws.
"Morning, Ren," she said, her voice even and calm.
"Morning, Mom," Ren replied, sliding into his seat. Ghastly floated beside him, eyeing the steaming porridge with hunger it couldn't satisfy.
His father was there too, seated across the table. Alaric Silen was the quiet one, tall, severe, with pale eyes that always seemed to look through you rather than at you. A Kadabra stood behind him, mirroring his posture. Psychic energy shimmered faintly in the air around him, stirring the edges of the newspaper he read.
"Eat," his father said simply, without looking up.
Ren obeyed. In this family, meals were serious business.
The silence didn't last long. The front door slammed open, and laughter filled the house.
"Ren! You up yet?"
Ren didn't need to turn. Only one person shouted his name like that.
Ash Ketchum bounded into the room, messy hair sticking up in every direction, Pikachu perched on his shoulder. The yellow mouse gave a cheerful "Pika!" and waved a paw.
Ren groaned. "Ash, do you ever knock?"
"Nope!" Ash grinned. "Come on, today's the day! Oak's giving us starters, remember?"
Ren gave him a flat look. "I already have Ghastly, genius."
Ash blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Oh. Right. Still! You should come. You know… for moral support!"
Liora chuckled softly, sipping her tea. "Go with him, Ren. A little sunshine wouldn't hurt."
"Or it might burn him," Kane muttered under his breath.
Ren glared at his brother, but Ash had already grabbed his arm and was dragging him toward the door. Pikachu chirped, hopping onto Ren's shoulder like they'd been friends forever.
"Let's go!" Ash shouted, full of boundless energy.
Ren sighed, letting himself be pulled along. "Fine. But if I miss breakfast for this, I'm haunting you when I die again."
Ghastly laughed at that, drifting along behind them like a loyal shadow.
Pallet Town's streets were alive with chatter that morning. Parents ushered excited children toward Oak's lab, each dreaming of becoming the next Champion. Ren trailed beside Ash, taking it all in. He had to admit, seeing it in person was surreal.
That was when she appeared.
Standing by the lab gates, arms crossed, was Cael. Her hair was dark and tied in a high ponytail, her stance firm and unyielding. At her side stood a small, muscular Machop, flexing its arms with a glare that matched its trainer's.
When she spotted Ren, her eyes narrowed.
"Well, well. The shadow boy himself," she said.
Ren sighed. "Good morning to you too, Cael."
Ash blinked between them. "Uh… you two know each other?"
"Unfortunately," Ren muttered.
Cael smirked. "Don't think hiding behind your spooky tricks makes you better than real fighters. Ghosts can't punch through stone."
Her Machop flexed again for emphasis.
Ren's lips curved into a small smile. "They don't need to. They just need to know where you'll move before you do."
Cael tilted her head, intrigued despite herself. "Hmph. We'll see."
Ash glanced between them, completely missing the tension. "Great! Rivals already! This is gonna be awesome!"
Ren groaned. Ghastly chuckled. Cael smirked again.
And so, in the bright morning sun of Pallet Town, the shadow boy, the reckless dreamer, and the iron-fisted rival took their first steps toward futures none of them could have imagined.