Chapter 5
The river called to him again.
For three days, Alaric had returned each evening, always alone, always quiet. He would sit upon the damp stones, hands resting on his knees, watching the current rush past. The same Magikarp leapt tirelessly against it, flailing and falling, never reaching further than a few feet. To most, it was meaningless—an endless loop of futility. But to Alaric, it was a declaration.
The boy who had once debated prime ministers now studied every splash with the same intensity he once gave to policies. Even in failure, it persists. Even in mockery, it strives. That is strength—misunderstood, unpolished, but undeniable.
On the fourth day, his father noticed his absences.
"You vanish at dusk," Lord Astraeus said at supper, his tone more curious than accusing. "Where do you go, my son?"
Alaric met his gaze calmly. "To the river, father. There is something there I must see."
His father raised a brow. "Something… or someone?"
"A partner," Alaric answered simply.
The table stilled. Even the servants paused. His words carried too much certainty to be dismissed as childish fantasy.
Lord Astraeus studied him in silence. Then he exhaled slowly, almost as though bracing himself. "If you are determined, then I will not forbid it. But I will not permit recklessness either. You are my heir. If you are to take your first Pokémon, it must be done properly."
Alaric inclined his head. "Of course, father."
And so, at dawn the next day, he walked with two attendants and his father toward the riverbank. One attendant carried a small wooden box—inside, a single Poké Ball, its surface gleaming, unused.
Alaric had not been given free rein; he had been given a test.
They reached the river just as the sun crested the horizon, painting the water in molten gold. Mist curled along its surface, soft and otherworldly. And there—leaping once more against the current—was the Magikarp.
His father frowned faintly. "This is the partner you seek? A Magikarp? There are Chikorita, Cyndaquil, Totodile—stronger Pokémon with proven legacies. And you choose… this?"
The attendants exchanged skeptical glances. To them, it was absurd. To nobles, a first Pokémon was a symbol of prestige. Choosing a Magikarp was akin to donning rags in a court of silk.
But Alaric only smiled faintly. "Others see weakness. I see inevitability. This Magikarp does not stop, father. Every failure only pushes it to leap again. Such persistence is worth more than raw power. And in time, its strength will eclipse those who mocked it."
His father's eyes narrowed. For a long moment, there was only the sound of rushing water. Then, at last, Lord Astraeus exhaled. "Very well. Show me, then. Prove that your choice is more than words."
Alaric accepted the box, fingers brushing the Poké Ball's surface. The weight was light, yet heavy with meaning. He stepped to the river's edge, violet eyes sharp.
The Magikarp leapt again, splashing back into the current. Alaric crouched, speaking softly, though his voice carried over the water.
"I have watched you. Day after day, you fight the same battle, mocked by fate, scorned by strength. But you do not stop. And that is why I choose you. Not for what you are, but for what you will become."
The Magikarp flicked its tail, pausing mid-current. It stared—or seemed to—with blank eyes, yet something in its stillness felt like acknowledgment.
Alaric did not cast the Poké Ball immediately. No, that would have been the way of a reckless child. Instead, he knelt and removed from his pocket a small satchel of feed he had taken from the estate kitchens. Carefully, he scattered some into the shallows, not as bait, but as offering.
The Magikarp hesitated, then slowly swam closer, snapping the morsels clumsily. Alaric waited, patient, unmoving, his hand resting lightly on the Poké Ball.
"You are mocked as useless. I, too, am underestimated. But together, we will carve a place none can deny. This I vow."
And then—only then—he tapped the Poké Ball gently against the Magikarp's head.
Light swallowed it in an instant, and the ball fell into the water before floating back to the surface. It wobbled once. Twice. Thrice.
Click.
The attendants murmured in surprise. His father's brows rose faintly.
Alaric lifted the Poké Ball from the river, holding it with both hands. His voice, soft yet resolute, carried across the bank. "From this day, we rise together."
His first Pokémon.
Not a starter gifted by tradition, nor a creature chosen for prestige. A Magikarp, weak in body but iron in spirit. A choice that spoke not to what was expected, but to what only Alaric could see.
The attendants whispered among themselves, unable to understand. His father only shook his head, though not in disapproval. "You are a strange child, Alaric. But perhaps strangeness is what our family needs."
As they walked back, Alaric's hand never strayed from the Poké Ball at his side. His expression was calm, but inside, a storm of determination surged. This was not merely a catch—it was the foundation of everything to come.
He recalled the words he had spoken to his father: strength that is borrowed can be taken. Strength that is earned cannot.
Now, with Magikarp, he would prove it.
That night, alone in his room, Alaric released his new partner onto the polished wooden floor. The Magikarp flopped awkwardly, gills flaring, tail thumping. Most would have laughed. Alaric knelt, gaze unwavering.
"You will be ridiculed, as I will for choosing you. Let them laugh. Their laughter will one day choke in their throats when they see what we become. For we are not bound by what we are now. We are bound by what we will be."
The Magikarp flopped once more, then stilled, staring blankly at him. But Alaric swore—just for a moment—that he saw something in its eyes. Not comprehension, perhaps, but the faintest spark of recognition.
He reached out, resting his hand gently on its scales. "Alaric von Astraeus," he said solemnly, "and you—" He paused, considering. Names had power. A true bond required one.
"…you shall be called Perseus. For like the hero, mocked at birth, you will rise to strike down monsters."
The Magikarp thrashed lightly, almost as if in approval.
Alaric smiled faintly, violet eyes glinting in the lamplight. "Then let us begin, Perseus. Together, we will change the world."
The boy and the fish regarded one another in the quiet of the manor room. Outside, the wind stirred the banners of House Astraeus. A new chapter had begun—not only for Alaric, but for the destiny of his family.
And somewhere, deep within the Magikarp's fragile body, a seed stirred—a promise of a storm yet to come.