A Flightless Dragon

WHAM!

A loud crash rings out after your head strikes the floor, the momentum rolling you onto your back. You lie there for a moment, looking up at the ceiling and at the shelf along the wall that you dove off of for the fifth time, where you can see books and various odds and ends belonging to your trainer.

You turn your eyes down at your blue and yellow scales and your nubby arms and let out a sulking growl. You're still no closer to flying than you were the first time you dove off the shelf, or the day earlier, or any number of days before that.

You get up and reorient yourself with your surroundings, namely your trainer's bedroom. Ahead of you by the window is the bed your trainer sleeps on, still messy from not being tidied up in the morning. To the right, there's a large, squarish box called a 'television' that has a gray plastic device with pads with multicolored buttons on it connected by cables hooked up to it. Sometimes it has gray devices with stickers on them wedged into it, but today it has a translucent blue one in it that itself has a yellow card seated in it. It got moved from the living room after a black one like it took its place a couple years ago, and your trainer mostly uses it these days for playing some video games that have gotten popular in recent years. Ones that he played on some sort of plastic brick before he got that blue device.

They're the same ones that the small row of little dolls on the television are from. Like the one that looks like some sort of Feraligatr mixed with a Gyarados. Or the one that looks like a shrunken Rhydon. Or the one that looks like a Sharpedo with a spear on its snout. Strange creatures that at once feel vaguely familiar to you, yet not, for reasons you can't place.

And off to the left, there's a desk for schoolwork and a set of boxes called a 'computer' there. Next to it, there's a Wartortle stirring from basking under the sun: Roy, your trainer's starter. He's a leader of sorts for the team of Pokémon who share your trainer. You flinch a bit, thinking he's going to get up and scold you, only for him to briefly pull his head and limbs partly into his shell, before turning with a sleepy murmur.

You're a little surprised that he's so unfazed by the racket you're making, but after diving over and over again onto the carpeted floor for the umpteenth time, he must've gotten used to it.

You give the side of the shelf a growling headbutt and fume to yourself. Your kind is supposed to be able to fly! But in your trainer's cramped house here in this town, with everyone pressed up against each other in a sprawl, your opportunities to practice are limited to dives off furniture when others are out of the house… or aren't paying attention, like how your trainer is busy right now with some 'laundry' thing with the other humans of his family.

You should probably stop before anyone notices since you get scolded whenever your dives wind up damaging something or distracting others, even if your trainer and his family have grown more and more used to your attempts to practice flying. But what did they expect? Dragons of your kind are supposed to fly, you know it in your bones. Bagon like you in the wild supposedly feel that way enough to leap off bluffs and even cliffs to try! Like the fake ones in your Pokéball, except much taller and real.

... You wonder if any of them ever got any closer to flying than you have.

But your "cliff" here is this shelf. It's taller than Roy, or any of your teammates, but that's not saying a whole lot, especially when your trainer stands taller than it. Agh, if only you could go someplace higher up! You'd heard that some Pokémon needed to have space to dive first before they could fly, maybe that's what you're missing right now.

You don't know for sure if it will work, but diving off the bedroom shelf isn't going anywhere at this rate, and if you believe what Roy tells you about human beliefs, repeating the same thing over and over again while expecting different results is considered a sign of insanity among humans.

Except, you're here in this little three-story house amid a sea of others just like it. It's not as if you're going to just conveniently find a cliff here to jump off and try…

You feel a breeze blow in through the window and look off at your trainer's bed. The window behind it was left ajar to help cool the room down since it's been fairly warm this week.

… It occurs to you that you're on the top floor of the house right now. Even if the height out the window is surely still short compared to a cliff, it is taller than the jump off the shelf.

Maybe it'd be enough for you to finally fly?

It's not as if you have anything better to do right now. Roy's dozing off, and your other teammates are busy elsewhere in the house. You make your way over to your trainer's bed, and after a few fumbling attempts, you clamber up it. Then you go up to the windowsill, and over to the window where you put your nubby arms up to the gap.

"Nrgh…"

You tug at the window to open it wider, but you keep struggling to pull it open. After eventually getting it wide enough to slip a leg in, you decide to wedge your body between the window and push it open with a creak.

You step back and look down from the windowsill. You can see the windows of the lower levels of your trainer's house below; the entire building is much deeper lengthwise than what one would expect when initially seeing it from its entrance. Like most of the other ones on this street are. The side you're facing overlooks the side alley where trash gets left to be picked up, with a fenceline barely a human arm span apart that separates the house from the alley's pavement.

You go up to the ledge, but once there, you hesitate. Is this a good idea? You've made this jump once before and gotten chewed out over it by both Roy and your trainer. Something about it being dangerous. You hadn't been able to fly when you tried that time, but almost felt like you were.

You're older and more experienced now. For some Pokémon like Taillow that's all it takes, from what you've heard. Maybe… just maybe, things will be different this time if you try.

"Whuh? Marl?"

You stiffen up and look back down at the desk where your Wartortle teammate is getting up and rubbing his eyes. He stares at you blankly for a moment, before seeing you at the edge of the windowsill with the window open and you ready to leap through it. His red eyes widen in alarm, and he starts to dart over with a claw held out to grab you.

"Wait! Marl! What are you-?!"

If Roy's going to get you in trouble, you might as well just jump. And so you ignore his cries and leap ahead, lowering your head into a dive. You flap your arms for good measure, so that way it'll help you pull up as you near the ground.

Except, you didn't realize how close to the house you were—

CHUNK!

Your head hits something hard and stony, and you pinwheel forward like you did after diving off the shelf in your trainer's room. Except there's no carpeted floor below you this time. You briefly feel air underneath you, before your left leg smacks the pavement and the rest of your body follows.

You hear a faint crack and agony shoots through your leg.

Then the air fills with your screams.

Everything after your dive from the window went by in a blur. You remember bawling from the pain in your leg and crying out for your friends for help. It wasn't long before Roy wrangled your trainer and your teammates along. After discovering that so much as touching your left leg hurt you, your trainer recalled you to your Pokéball and everything went black.

When you came to, you woke up on a bed in the backroom of the local Pokécenter: at once the pain in your leg came back and you started to cry again. After calming you a bit, the human and Pokémon nurses there put your left leg in a splint and cast, which held it still and helped make the pain more manageable.

A little while later, your trainer and teammates were allowed into the room, and they came in to try and comfort you.

You were discharged from the Pokécenter within the day. The Chansey that worked there told you that you'd broken your leg from your fall. Evidently Bagon's armored heads didn't do much to defend them if they fell on other parts of their bodies. Your wound was beyond the ability of the machines there to heal, and was so severe that your Pokéball would put you in stasis whenever you were in it. Hence why you blacked out and didn't see the normal simulated mountains and cliffs in your Pokéball or the world outside in its sky when you were recalled.

That's what you were told, anyways. In order for your leg bones to heal as quickly as possible, you'd need to have Potions applied periodically and rest outside your Pokéball with your leg in its cast so that your trainer and teammates could keep an eye on you as your leg bones stitched themselves back together.

Which in practice meant your trainer or one of your teammates would stand watch by you as you laid in a tatty bed set on the floor. It apparently used to be Roy's when he was smaller, and judging from the rips and tears in the fabric from what looked like bite marks… you honestly had no reason to disbelieve your teammates.

And so there you are, on the floor of the bedroom where the gray box with cables would normally be, in this chewed-up bed, lying down and looking up at the ceiling much as you did just after diving off the shelf yesterday. Except this time, you can't even hope to get up onto the shelf on your own.

You look down the hallway after hearing chatter and footsteps and see your trainer, a younger teenaged boy with a face that other humans kept having the hardest time picking out. He's tending to a Flaafy, a Murkrow, and a Cubone and packing up a bag. Heading out, it looks like.

"Marl?"

You turn your attention and look up at the other side of the bed to see a Wartortle's face peering down at you worriedly. Right, it's Roy's turn from among your teammates to watch over you. You… haven't really been keeping track of time with how miserable you've felt since coming home.

"How are you holding up, Marl?"

"Awful," you reply.

The turtle grimaces briefly, before pawing at the back of his head by one of his furry ears and looks away.

"I… kinda figured," he sighs back. "I don't mean to kick you while you're down, but at least you now know why you're not supposed to jump from the window, right?"

You get up and grit your teeth. That wasn't your fault. It was the fault of that stupid wall in the alleyway! If it wasn't there, you'd have landed on your head like you were supposed to if you weren't able to fly and none of this would've happened!

You say about as much back to Roy, and try to sit up only to feel pain shoot through your splinted leg. You try to blink back a few tears, and curse yourself for failing to do so. As if you needed to look any weaker or more pathetic right now. You wipe the tears away and try to put on a brave face, but you find yourself unable to do much other than look down at your bedding with a glum murmur.

"I- I just wanted to fly…"

The Wartortle looks at you for a moment, before shaking his head. He gives a scratch under your chin, a trick he and your trainer picked up in the past from another human who cared for another dragon. One that could fly like a dragon is supposed to. Normally, him doing this helps put you in a good mood and makes you giggle if he brushes up against a ticklish spot.

Except, right now your leg's throbbing and you just can't get your mind off of it.

"You'll get there. But… just take it easy for a while, okay?" the Wartortle tells you. "I need to help Calvin with a grocery run in a bit, so it might be a good time to get some rest."

You freeze after the words leave Roy's mouth. You think you really are going to cry now. You're in pain and can't try to chase the thing you love or do anything else but just sit here, and now your own team leader is telling you…

"Y-You're just going to leave me here alone?" you stammer. "C-Can't you at least bring me along in my Pokéball?"

The Wartortle hesitates a moment, before shaking his head in reply.

"Your leg won't heal properly if you're in your Pokéball all the time. It'll put you in stasis in your present condition, remember?" the Water-type reminds you. "We'll be back before you know it, I promise."

Every word from the Wartortle is like an Icicle Spear, hitting you one after another. He turns for the door when he seems to pick up on you not feeling well. He hesitates for a moment, before turning back to face you.

"I know that humans don't really understand Pokémon in general, Marl. But I'll try and get Calvin to pick up something for you," he says. "The rest of the family will check up on you if you need any help. Just call out for them."

You feel too crushed to say anything back at the moment, and you slump into your bedding with a defeated murmur.

"O-Okay."

Roy turns his head and slips past the door frame as you sink into your bedding. Your voice hitches, and when you think no one is watching you, you sniffle a little and begin to shed a few tears into its fabric.

"We're back!"

You must've dozed off after Roy left, since the next thing you remember after crying and nodding off was hearing the Wartortle's voice. You raise your head from your bed as the Water-type hurries in, carrying a small length of string. He approaches you with an eager smile, which abruptly slides off his face as he pauses and then bites his tongue.

"Oh. I… didn't realize you were feeling so upset, Marl."

You see a flash of guilt come over the Water-type's face and narrow your eyes. He could've not left you behind earlier or stayed home, but no. He just had to go along to get the stupid groceries. You turn away with a pouting huff, before feeling his claws paw at your chin.

"Look, I really didn't mean to make you feel like I didn't care about how you were doing," he said. "Though hopefully the surprise we got you while we were out helps make up for it a bit."

"And what's this 'surprise' supposed to be?" you grumble, without turning to look at him.

The Wartortle opens his mouth to explain, only to catch himself and think better of it before he speaks up with a small grin.

"Wouldn't be much of a surprise if I just told you," he says. "You'll figure it out pretty quickly, just sit up for a bit."

You warily sit up and shuffle onto your bum, wincing after you apply pressure onto your left leg a couple of times. It's at that point that you hear footsteps approaching, and see your trainer come into the room holding a large red balloon.

Your face falls, and you shoot back a sharp glare at the Wartortle.

"Roy, why would you bring a balloon to taunt me like this?" you sulk. "As if I needed more reminders that I can't fly—!"

The human teen hesitates for a moment before he stoops down and pats at your chin, and you can't help but calm down briefly. Roy takes the opportunity to lift your arms up, as your trainer slips the cord of the balloon around you and ties it around your chest underneath your arms. At once, you feel a force tugging you from above. You look up at the balloon and then down again, when you notice it.

"Oh!"

Your feet! They aren't touching the ground anymore!

Your feet somehow are now about Roy's waist height off the ground. You lean forward, trying to keep your belly parallel to the ground. Much to your surprise, you manage to stay off it at about the same height. You flap your arms and stay aloft, when your heart flutters as it suddenly dawns on you…

"I'm- I'm flying! I'm flying!"

"Well, more like 'floating', you're being held up by something humans call an 'Air Balloon'," Roy corrects you. "They don't last that long, but they help keep Pokémon off the ground for battles, especially little ones like you."

The Wartortle looks aside and gives a sheepish pat at his shell's chest plates before smiling at you.

"It took a few tries to explain it to Calvin, but I figured you'd like it," the turtle explains. "I just hope you're not too mad at me for not being there for you earlier."

The boy with the unplaceable face stoops down and pets you. You can't understand most of what he's saying to you in his tongue—that's more Roy's skill. But from the way his voice inflects, you're pretty sure your trainer is asking you something. The Wartortle listens in for a moment, before he turns over to you.

"Calvin says you looked lonely in bed all day, and he wants to know if you'd like to get tugged around a bit," the Wartortle explains. "It's not quite the same as having a pair of wings, but…"

You start to feel tears well up in your eyes again and sniffle a bit. This time, it's not because you're feeling hurt or sad or alone, but because you can't get over how you're actually flying right now… sort of.

And so, the next words come out of your mouth without you even realizing it.

"I-I'd love that, actually."

Five minutes later, you're in the back alley that your trainer's bedroom window overlooks. The air rushes against your body as you lay level with the ground, the pavement zipping past you. Your splinted leg slips from mind as there's nothing for it to brush up against and you race past mountains and clouds in your imagination.

A length of string tied up against the Air Balloon's cord pulls you forward, and you whoop and holler excitedly as Roy tows you after him. All the while, you flap your arms and call out for your teammate to keep going and to pull faster. There's only so much Roy can do as a Wartortle, but he does his best, laughing and cheering you along all the while as the sky flushes orange from sunset.

In one corner of your mind, you're sure that this must look silly to dragons who can fly like they're supposed to: you can't move yourself without help, you can't steer, and you can't do rolls or loops. Much as Roy said, it's not really flying.

But for the rest of you, none of that matters right now. You can feel the air brush against your scales all the same, you can look some of the world down, and you're able to share it with your friends. Just like how you will someday in the future when you're all grown up and can spread your wings and fly just like this all by yourself.