A young boy sat upon a flat stone gazing into the sky. The stark rectangular roofs of the buildings loomed stark against the backdrop of the fiery sunset. In the glow of that sunset, pokemon played. A pair of wild Spearow soared and clutched talons in a graceful courtship dance.
"Falkner! Come inside, your dinner's getting cold!" Mother was calling from the house. The boy reluctantly hopped down from his rock and went inside. Scrapper, his mother's pet Skarmory, greeted him at the door. Falkner patted the chick gently on the head and sat at the kitchen table across from his father.
"I just saw Spearows outside!" the boy said excitedly. "Dad, when can we go out and catch me a pokemon? You promised we'd do it real soon!"
The man rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Yeah, but I meant after your birthday. Your mom and I still think you're too young. Besides, you've got Scrapper."
"Scrapper's mom's pokemon!" Falkner protested. "I want one of my own! A Pidgeot! I want a Pidgeot, that way I can climb on its back and fly among the clouds…"
"That is just the reason why we don't think you're ready for a pokemon yet, son. We don't want you to go trying something reckless like that and falling to your death! Pidgeots are difficult to handle and pokemon are not simply around to serve people. The trainer must serve his pokemon as much if not more than they serve him. You must study more and watch how I handle my stable longer before I help you catch a wild pokemon."
Falkner was eight years old and thus too young to apply for an Official Pokemon Trainer's license, but the children of Gym Leaders usually began training pokemon early, under the tutelage of their parents. Falkner's father was none other than Akira Hiayako, the famed leader of Violet City Gym of Johto Province.
The Gyms out east in Kanto were better known than Johto's Gyms, but the Johto League was no less challenging than the Indigo League. Little Falkner had much pride that he lived in Johto, for the land was home to wild pokemon that could be found nowhere else, such as his mother's Skarmory.
Violet City's Gym was relatively new. Akira had built it just five years ago and had already established himself as a trainer of great local fame. Many cocky young trainers met defeat at Hiayako's hand, only three had left Violet City with badges in those five years.
He specialized in the training of bird pokemon, for they were his favorites. He kept a Noctowl, a Fearow, and an old Dodrio. He developed his love for feathered creatures in his youth when he was a pokemon watcher. He had found himself more interested in the habits of bird pokemon than in any other kind. Even the name of his son had sprung from his love: a play on the word "falconer", though "Falkner" also happened to be the name of a writer.
Falkner followed his father into his studio after supper. The room smelled of oil and turpentine, wood shavings and the odd smell of metal. Falkner had always loved coming to the studio to watch his dad work. While the smells disturbed his mother whenever she entered the great room, they were comforting to the child, reminders of good times and the aromas of artistic creation. Mother often scolded Father for allowing Falkner spend as much time in the studio as he did, worried about toxic fumes. Half-painted canvasses leaned against one wall and broken plaster casts littered a large table as Akira sat at a small desk with a tabletop magnifier and delicate jeweler's tools.
"Is it almost finished?" The boy asked.
"Just a few finishing touches. After that, we'll have to make some casts of it for the trainers."
"Like anyone's going to beat you, dad."
"That Whitney girl did last year. There! I think we have ourselves a masterpiece! Better than the old badge, huh?"
"Wow!" Falkner gasped. "It looks like the wings of an angel!"
"I would have made it bigger, but your mother doesn't like me to pluck too many steelfeathers from Scrapper."
"Scrapper doesn't like it that much, either." Falkner replied.
"What should I call it?" Akira asked. "I can't very well call it the Featherbadge anymore, it's nothing like the old one."
"The Angelbadge?" the boy suggested.
"No, I don't think that will do. Maybe…the Zephyrbadge!"
"Zephyr? What's a zephyr?"
Akira laughed. "A wind current, like a gentle breeze."
"I still like 'Angelbadge', though. It reminds me of the stories you and mom tell – of how angels are all around to protect us and how some say that we become angels when we die."
"Don't be too sure of that. I don't think we'll be angels, but we will fly to Heaven."
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"Hey, Falkner!"
Falkner turned around to see Bryce. He wanted to pretend he hadn't heard him, but it was too late now.
"Do you have a pokemon yet?"
"No, Bryce, I don't."
"Too bad! Grandpa caught me a Piloswine this weekend. I guess your dad doesn't know how to catch a wild pokemon, or maybe he thinks you're too much of a loser to handle one!"
"That's not true!" Falkner shouted. "My dad can catch wild pokemon a whole lot better than your grandpa and he doesn't think I'm a loser!"
"Loser!"
"I'll show you!"
Falkner leapt upon Bryce and threw him to the ground, which was a dire mistake. For a moment Falkner had forgotten about how much bigger and stronger Bryce was than himself. Bryce grabbed Falkner's wrists and rolled over on top of him. He pelted the slender boy with harsh fists in the face, in the chest, and in the stomach. By the time a teacher came to break up the recess fight, Falkner was doubled over, groaning in pain.
He was escorted to the nurse while Bryce was taken to the principal's office. The teacher had assumed that Bryce had started the fight, which was the usual way of things between him and Falkner, so Falkner received no more punishment than the black eye he would bear for the next few days.
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Falkner stood upon a fallen log in the woods, staring into the sunset. He stretched his arms out and let the wind ruffle his loose tee shirt. A Natu flew by its feathers shimmering in the dying sun. The log stood over a hillside, creating a ledge several feet from the ground below. The boy's green hair stirred in the breeze, tickling his nose and getting in his eyes.
He remembered the week after his fifth birthday when he had taped feathers from his father's pokemon to his arms and jumped off this ledge, hoping to fly like a Fearow, but instead hitting the ground and getting many bruises and cuts. He saw a Pidgeot in the distance with a trainer mounted on its back.
"Someday." Falkner whispered to himself. "Someday."
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"Check the snare often." Akira instructed his son. "If a pokemon is caught and is there for too long, it could hurt itself trying to escape."
Falkner was setting a wild pokemon trap with his father out in the woods. The pair had baited the trap with a bit of bread, hoping something small and hungry would come along. Normally, trainers captured pokemon with pokeballs with a starter they received from a researcher or a bought from a breeder, but Akira believed that a boy should learn to capture a pokemon without pokeballs, and that the best starters came straight from the wild.
After nearly an hour of walking through the woods to pass the time, Falkner went back to his snare. A small creature flapped and fluttered and squawked, its leg caught in the noose.
"Look, Dad! We got a Pidgey!" Falkner quickly ran over to the tiny bird and held it tight, loosing the snare from its foot. The animal struggled, but Falkner pressed it close against his small chest, calling for his father to bring him a pokeball. Akira held up the red and white orb and the Pidgey was sucked inside. Falkner held it in his hands, staring at its smooth surface, contemplating the small feathered creature stored within.
"My first pokemon;" he gasped. "I think I'll name him Talon!"
"A fine name," Akira said, "but, my son, your Pidgey is a female. I can tell by the feather-coloring, but Talon is still a fine name. Handle her carefully, she's not as tough as Scrapper and she appears to be quite young."
"I'll take good care of her, I promise!"
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"So, little Falkner's finally got a pokemon!" Bryce sneered the next day on the school playground. "Let's see it!"
Falkner released Talon and smiled. She was a beautiful Pidgey, and her feathers glimmered in the sun. She radiated with wildness, and a spark of fire gleamed in her eyes. Falkner couldn't have been more proud.
"Is that all?" Bryce huffed. He released his Piloswine, "Charlotte".
"I challenge you to a battle!" Bryce said, "Let's see if your Pidgey is as great as you seem to think it is!"
"You're on!" shouted Falkner. "Talon, Gust !"
"Charlotte, Powder Snow!"
"Talon, Fly!"
The battle raged for about fifteen minutes, until Bryce's Charlotte unleashed a Powder Snow attack that hit its intended target. Talon's feathers became caked in ice and her wings were hit with frostbite. She crashed into the ground and shivered, then lay deathly still. The school principal came out to the playground, having glimpsed the unmistakable pokemon attacks of Gust and Powder Snow through the window of his office.
"What is going on here? You boys know that pokemon battles are not allowed at school!" he bellowed.
Bryce jabbered a stream of endless excuses while Principal Riley scolded him. Falkner heard none of it, kneeling beside Talon, rubbing her wings and crying. He looked up at the principal and wailed.
"S-s-sir? My Pidgey needs to get to a Pokemon Center quick! What am I going to do? I don't want her…I don't want her to…"
The principal called one of the school nurses to escort Falkner to the nearest Pokemon Center. After Talon was left for an overnight stay, having got there just in time to for the Nurse Joy there to save her life, Falkner was taken to the principal's office and his father was called.
"Falkner!" Akira scolded his son upon arriving at the school. "That was a foolish and dangerous thing you did! You know the rules about pokemon battles on the playground! And, you knew Bryce's Piloswine had a lot more experience than Talon. Your pride almost got your pokemon killed. I think that is enough punishment for you to teach you your lesson, but your mother and I have decided to ground you for a week, just to let it set in."
Falkner groaned. The week's grounding didn't affect him as much as the near-tragedy with Talon. From that day forward, he vowed to never be careless with his pokemon again, and to never battle simply for the sake of his own selfish pride.
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"Hoothoot! Foresight!" Falkner commanded. His owl saw through the Double Team of his opponent's Pikachu.
It was the semi-finals of Violet High School's annual FMoJ tournament. The FMoJ was the illustrious "Future Masters of Johto" club, a nationwide club for high school students all across Johto, for professional pokemon battle-technique was a required course in most of the high schools (unlike most elementary schools, which generally forbade battles, since their students were too young). The FMoJ was an elective class/club for students who hoped to make pokemon training a profession.
Falkner Hiayako, at a spry fifteen, was the favorite of this match. His friend Zachary, though he had a type advantage with his Pikachu, was no match for the slick young bird-trainer. Several young men in airy white robes stood around Falkner, cheering his Hoothoot on. They were his "followers" a gathering of like-minded young trainers whom he had all bested in prior battles that wanted to learn his techniques with their own flying-type pokemon.
"Hoothoot! Fly!"
The chubby little owl flew high into the air, the bewildered Pikachu watching it, then it came crashing down upon the yellow mouse, talons bared. Falkner thought of how a wild Hoothoot might do the same to a wild Pikachu, only its goal would not be to faint the creature as in this battle, but to capture it for supper. This time, the predator won out, and the Pikachu fell unconscious to the ground. Zachary called out a Tauros. Seeing that "Hooters" was tired and in need of a rest, Falkner called out Talon.
"Pidgeotto, go!" Falkner, along with all the members of the FMoJ never called their pokemon by their nicknames when doing serious battle. It was considered unprofessional. Most Gym Leaders, in fact, had nicknames for their pokemon, but never called them by those names in front of their challengers. To call a pokemon by the name of their species indicated a knowledge of that species, and, anyway, it was tradition.
The battle was heated, Zachary's Tauros was much stronger than his Pikachu, but so Talon was stronger than Hooters. Through the sands of a powerful Gust attack, Falkner could see his Pidgeotto glowing. As commanded, she unleashed a Quick Attack on the wild bull before her, and as soon as the beast fainted with a great final bellow, she grew and became a Pidgeot.
A great cheer rose among the crowd assembled to watch the match, and most among Falkner's "followers". The young man stood astonished, eyes and jaw open wide. This he had not expected, but he was overwhelmed with great joy. He ran to his pokemon as Zachary knelt beside his own, commending it on a great battle. Falkner hugged his Talon round the neck and ran his fingers through her great crest of feathers.
"Congratulations, girl! I knew you'd evolve someday, I guess you were ready! Now I can teach you to carry me on your back! We'll have such wonderful rides together!"
"Piddddgeot!" the bird chirped in reply, nuzzling her master's shoulder.
At that moment, the PA system over the outdoor pokemon battlefield blared.
"Falkner Hiayako, please proceed to Ms. Elaine's office. Falkner Hiayako, please proceed to Ms. Elaine's office, you have a phone call."
"Come, Talon. I bet it's mom calling to wish me luck. I can't wait to tell her what just happened!"
Falkner recalled his new Pidgeot to her pokeball and ran to the office to answer the telephone. He had wished his mother had been able to come to his match, but she had many things to do around the house that had to be done that weekend, for the family was expecting a visit from an aunt from out of town. His father was on a business trip in Vermilion City in Kanto, meeting with a Lt. Col. Surge (retired U.S. Army) about a trade in rare pokemon vitamin supplements.
The boy rushed into the office, tiny beads of sweat about his neck from the warm weather outside and the tough, dusty battle. He picked up the receiver and the voice on the other end confirmed his suspicions, only, in his mother's voice there was something wrong.
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Falkner hopped off the city bus and ran through the streets until he made it home. He found his mother standing on the porch in her daisy-print sun dress and white frilled apron, her eyes downcast and red from crying. He embraced her fiercely and cried into her shoulder, grabbing her shoulders, wrinkling the daisy fabric of her dress in a tight, red-knuckled grip.
"Is it…true?" He sniffed. "It- it can't be…please, just tell me this is all a bad dream."
"I know, honey, I know;" the tall woman soothed, rubbing her son's back with her left hand. "The man that called me said there were no survivors…the plane …crashed…just outside of New Bark town…the media will be here soon…the loss of- the loss of…the Violet City Gym Leader is a big deal."
Then she broke into uncontrollable sobs. Falkner spoke up. "Are they really sure? Has everything been searched? What about Vermilion Airport, maybe he missed catching the flight?"
"Honey, my dear sweet child…Dear…they found him…the authorities called because they have confirmation…Oh…dear…"
The woman started sobbing again, and her son along with her.
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Akira Hiayako's funeral was a lavish affair. The whole of Violet City and all of the other Gym Leaders of Johto and their families came to pay honor to his memory. Falkner sat in the kitchen alone while his extended family was gathered outside, consoling each other in their grief. His mother and his father's longtime friend, Lt. Surge came in and sat at the table across from him.
"Falkner?" Lt. Surge asked. "Do you want to talk? Your father entrusted me with some…very important business…and it concerns you."
"What's up?" the teenager asked, weakly.
Surge laid a sheet of paper on the table, and pushed it toward Falkner. "Your father entrusted me to the care of his Will. He stated here that…he wanted you to inherit Violet City Gym."
"He did?" Falkner asked. "But…why? I'll never live up to his training."
"Dear," his mother said, "trust yourself, you shall do well."
"He also wanted you to have this." Surge intoned, handing the boy a pokeball. "That's 'Dododbird'."
"Dodrio? No, there must be some mistake, dad couldn't have wanted me to have Dodo…he only ever trusted him. When mom took the other pokemon…he wouldn't let her touch him."
"Son," his mother stated, "take him, he's yours."
"Listen to your mother, son." Surge said. "Your father was a wise man. If wrote an order to give you his Dodrio, he must trust you to train it."
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Falkner proved true to his father's expectations. Violet City Gym enjoyed an explosion of new challengers after he had taken it over, and very few, indeed, left the premises with a Zephyrbadge in hand. He, with much patience and gentle care, taught Dodrio how to jump high into the air in an act comparable to true flight. Falkner often rode Talon through the sapphire skies across all of Johto and thought about how long it would take a Pidgeot to fly to Heaven, but never would he fly near on the outskirts of New Bark town over a particular spot. He would fly anywhere, but never over that place.
THE END
Shadowcat, 2001