Story Notes:
The chapters in this story are in no way connected to each other, except for the fact that they are all inspired by song lyrics from "There's a river in the valley made of melting snow", by Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra & Tra-La-La Band, formerly The Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra-La-La Band, formerly A Silver Mt. Zion (ASMZ) and, at one point, The Silver Mountain Reveries. There will be 36 chapters, with none of them having more than 2000 words. Each will have its own topic, according to the individual titles. Each will have different characters and a different setting, in order to show just how many topics this song deals with. Speaking of which, in case you'd like to listen to it, you can find it on YouTube. I recommend this song; I've been listening to it for about three years now, and it just never gets old. There are so many things that come to my mind when listening to it, so now I'm trying to write them all down. Since the chapters are going to be really short, I think I'll be able to put a new one online every two days or so, depending on how much time I have. I know there are other projects I should be working on, but now I suddenly had this idea and I'd really like to see how it turns out. It's a bit hard to write stories that are so very short and still meaningful, but luckily they don't have to stand on their own, as they are mostly ways to interprete the song they are based on. Well, I hope I'll be able to update as often and as quickly as I am planning to, and I hope you'll enjoy reading and listening to "There's a river in the valley made of melting snow".
...so my heart... does softly swell...
PLEASE NOTE: I do not own Pokémon, and I have to say that I'm kind of proud of it, because the idea of capturing animal-like creatures to make them fight each other is pretty sick, actually. Be this as it may, every species of Pokémon referred to in the following text and everything else that is a part of the Pokémon franchise is the property of their rightful owner, however, the actual story belongs to me. The title belongs to Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra & Tra-La-La Band/ The Silver Mountain Reveries. No copyright infringement is intended.
Thank you.
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Have you never heard that there's a river in the valley made of melting snow...?
...so my heart... does softly swell...
It was weekend, so Thomas had not set his alarm clock to go off. When he finally awoke, it was almost noon already. For a moment he kept lying in his bed, thinking about whether or not it would make a difference if he got up today. He came to the conclusion that it probably would not, but he also knew he was not tired enough to go to sleep again.
He stood up very slowly while letting out a deep sigh. He had his usual light headache. Over the years, he had learned to more or less ignore it. Thomas looked out of the window and saw the streets a few floors below him. The city seemed to be rather busy, and it appeared like it was going to be a warm, sunny day. Everyone else always seemed to have some place they were going to, but Thomas found none of those places very appealing.
He turned around and walked into the bathroom, which was so small that he was always standing either in front of the mirror, or in the shower. He brushed his teeth, looking at his reflection. Thomas had short brown hair, an overall very meager face, and his skin was rather pale, which meant that he always looked like he was a bit ill. He washed himself and shaved, trying his best not to think. Things usually got worse once he started thinking.
After he was done, Thomas put on some boring brown and gray clothes and then entered the living room, which consisted of an old easy chair, a window, a TV and a dark carpet on the floor. He sat down, turned on the TV and began zapping through the channels, trying to find something to watch that was not entirely terrible.
His mind drifted off, and he started thinking about his situation. He was almost thirty years old, lived alone in this small apartment and worked in a factory that produced Pokéballs. What they paid him was enough to eat and pay the bills, but there was never very much left at the end of the month. He could not afford to go on vacation; not that he would have wanted to do that if he had had the choice, but it was something that came to his mind every now and then.
Sometimes he remembered the time when he had been younger and full of ambition. Of course, it had been his dream to become rich and famous; everyone seemed to want that at one point. However, realizing those plans had proven to be much more difficult than he had first expected, so he had decided to settle for less. Every now and then it appeared to him that his headaches might be hints of regret, but in the end, it did not seem to be too plausible. When he thought about it, he did not really mind his dull job or his small apartment. The thing that did make him feel bad sometimes, though, was the loneliness.
Thomas had never been too interested in dating. The way he saw it, it actually brought more problems than it solved. Every now and then he met up with some of his colleagues, but if that could even be called a friendship, then it was one on a very superficial level. He shook his head, which still hurt.
On one channel, they showed a report on the life of a Pokémon trainer, who seemed to be pretty successful. He and his Pokémon were portrayed as the best friends that could possibly ever exist. It seemed to make Thomas' head hurt more. Of course he knew that this was just one of the usual exaggerations that could always be found in the media, but it still seemed to leave some sort of impression on him.
Thomas stood up and turned off the TV. A weak smile was standing on his face. He knew it would probably turn out to be a bad idea in the end, but he really wanted to try it now. It might make his life a little less bland to have another living creature in his apartment, and maybe it might even make his headaches go away. Then again, he was not even certain how to properly take care of a Pokémon, but that seemed less important to him. His life had reached a certain point at which he was not afraid of negative consequences anymore. Everything was boring, slow and unsatisfying anyway, and he knew he was unusually bitter for his age, so he was certain that nothing could possibly hit him too hard. For someone like him, who had lost his hopes and all his motivation years ago, there was nothing to fear.
He took a bus to the shop. Inside, there were many shelves filled with Pokéballs, and a picture under each of them that showed the Pokémon that was inside. A store clerk immediately came up to him and offered to help him choose, but Thomas asked him kindly to just leave him alone. It was not like he had that much of a choice, anyway, since he had to keep in mind the expenses. He was sure he would be able to pay for the food that would be necessary, as it did not seem to cost all that much; however, the price tags on the Pokéballs were ludicrous. Thomas figured that this was the case because most of the Pokémon were advertised as good fighters, as very obedient, or as especially cute.
It took him some time to find one that he could afford. Taking a quick look at the picture, he nodded. It was a young Houndour. Without thinking too much about it, Thomas took the ball and brought it to the counter, together with a leash and a few cans of food, which was rather cheap. He paid for it without talking too much and then left.
When he got home, he immediately let his new comrade out of its Pokéball. The Houndour looked up at him with big, uncertain eyes as it sat down on the floor. Thomas was not sure what he should do. After a moment he kneeled down and carefully patted its head. The Houndour seemed to enjoy this treatment at least a little, so Thomas kept doing it for a few minutes.
He then stood up again and let the Pokémon explore the new location. The Houndour kept sniffing around the apartment for about half an hour. Then it noticed the window. It jumped up on the window sill and stared outside. Thomas blinked.
"Oh, you need to go outside?" he assumed. The Houndour turned its head towards him. Thomas stepped up to it and quickly put it on the leash. "Here, let's go," he said. The Pokémon jumped to the ground and then followed him to the door.
They walked through the city for a while, stopping every now and then, whenever the Houndour wanted it. Sometimes it was tugging a little on the leash, and Thomas had to be careful not to let it run onto the street, but most of the time the Pokémon seemed to be rather calm and obedient. It was apparently intelligent enough to notice that the leash kept it from running away, so the Houndour did not even try it.
After about an hour had gone by, they returned to the apartment. Thomas took the Pokémon off the leash, and it immediately jumped up onto the window sill and stared outside once more. He frowned.
"You can't tell me you need to go outside again," he said. The Houndour turned its head towards him. Its eyes still seemed to be full of uncertainty, but there was hope in there as well. After a short moment, the Pokémon looked outside the window again. Thomas tried to follow its gaze with his eyes. He noticed that the Houndour was not looking at the streets, or at the houses. Its eyes appeared to be focused on the mountains that almost seemed to disappear in the distance. Thomas sighed.
"I'll get you something to eat," he said. He went into the kitchen, put some of the Pokémon food that he had bought in a bowl, and then brought it to the Houndour, which jumped to the floor and ate. After the Pokémon was done, it quickly returned to the window sill, just as Thomas had expected.
It spent its whole day on there. Thomas was relatively certain that he knew the reason. The Houndour had probably been caught not too long ago, so it was still hoping it could return to the wild. Now, that was, of course, impossible. Thomas had paid quite a bit of money for the Houndour, so now he did not want it to leave him. It was apparently not feeling well, but that could not be helped; after all, Thomas was not feeling well, either. At least now he had someone to share his discomfort with, and that made it a bit easier.
When it was time to go to sleep, the Houndour apparently still did not want to leave its favorite place in the apartment, and Thomas did not feel like forcing it to. Even when he got up the next day, the Houndour was still sitting on the window sill. He took it outside, fed it and then, since it was Sunday and he had nothing to do, decided to just watch TV once again. All day long, the Pokémon only left its place to eat or to go outside together with Thomas.
The next day came, and Thomas had to go to work. He returned in the evening, finding the Houndour just where he had expected it to be. He turned on the TV, but his gaze kept resting on the Pokémon. After a while, he sighed deeply.
"You want to go home, don't you?" he asked. The Houndour looked at him. All this time, it had not made a single sound, but that was not necessary anyway. Its eyes told Thomas everything.
"You know, I've grown up to be a bitter man," Thomas said. "I don't have to care about what you want." The Pokémon did not show any sign of understanding him, but its eyes still seemed to be full of hope.
"I doubt it'd help you much if I let you be free," he went on. "You're probably hundreds of miles away from your former home." There was no answer, of course.
"I don't want to be alone again," Thomas said. "I don't want to just lose all that money I had to pay to get you, either." A short moment passed.
"You'll grow used to living here," he continued, "just like I did." The Houndour's gaze was still resting on him. Thomas sighed as he felt his headache become stronger.
He stood up, turned off the TV and reached for his wallet and the Pokéball.
The ticket for the train out of town cost quite a bit, but Thomas did not really care anymore. There was nothing he could have been saving his money for, anyway. When he finally got out of the train, it was already night. He knew he would not be able to return for about two hours, but that was unimportant. There was nobody who could have expected him to come home.
It was the last train station before the forest began.
He let the Houndour out of the Pokéball.
"There," he said. "Run away, just so you won't become as bitter as I am." The Pokémon looked up at him for a short moment. Then it noticed the forest, and immediately dashed off.
Thomas still had his headache, but at least the Houndour would not have one, too.
(1992 words)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter End Notes:This was the first chapter that was not mainly focusing on a Pokémon, but had a human protagonist instead. There will be at least one more of this kind, so I hope it didn't bother anyone who reads this story. Thank you very much for your interest; if you'd like to comment, please write a review or send an email to [email protected] .
Please be free...
-- Lion vom Silberwal
Thank you.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
...so my heart... does softly swell...
It was weekend, so Thomas had not set his alarm clock to go off. When he finally awoke, it was almost noon already. For a moment he kept lying in his bed, thinking about whether or not it would make a difference if he got up today. He came to the conclusion that it probably would not, but he also knew he was not tired enough to go to sleep again.
He stood up very slowly while letting out a deep sigh. He had his usual light headache. Over the years, he had learned to more or less ignore it. Thomas looked out of the window and saw the streets a few floors below him. The city seemed to be rather busy, and it appeared like it was going to be a warm, sunny day. Everyone else always seemed to have some place they were going to, but Thomas found none of those places very appealing.
He turned around and walked into the bathroom, which was so small that he was always standing either in front of the mirror, or in the shower. He brushed his teeth, looking at his reflection. Thomas had short brown hair, an overall very meager face, and his skin was rather pale, which meant that he always looked like he was a bit ill. He washed himself and shaved, trying his best not to think. Things usually got worse once he started thinking.
After he was done, Thomas put on some boring brown and gray clothes and then entered the living room, which consisted of an old easy chair, a window, a TV and a dark carpet on the floor. He sat down, turned on the TV and began zapping through the channels, trying to find something to watch that was not entirely terrible.
His mind drifted off, and he started thinking about his situation. He was almost thirty years old, lived alone in this small apartment and worked in a factory that produced Pokéballs. What they paid him was enough to eat and pay the bills, but there was never very much left at the end of the month. He could not afford to go on vacation; not that he would have wanted to do that if he had had the choice, but it was something that came to his mind every now and then.
Sometimes he remembered the time when he had been younger and full of ambition. Of course, it had been his dream to become rich and famous; everyone seemed to want that at one point. However, realizing those plans had proven to be much more difficult than he had first expected, so he had decided to settle for less. Every now and then it appeared to him that his headaches might be hints of regret, but in the end, it did not seem to be too plausible. When he thought about it, he did not really mind his dull job or his small apartment. The thing that did make him feel bad sometimes, though, was the loneliness.
Thomas had never been too interested in dating. The way he saw it, it actually brought more problems than it solved. Every now and then he met up with some of his colleagues, but if that could even be called a friendship, then it was one on a very superficial level. He shook his head, which still hurt.
On one channel, they showed a report on the life of a Pokémon trainer, who seemed to be pretty successful. He and his Pokémon were portrayed as the best friends that could possibly ever exist. It seemed to make Thomas' head hurt more. Of course he knew that this was just one of the usual exaggerations that could always be found in the media, but it still seemed to leave some sort of impression on him.
Thomas stood up and turned off the TV. A weak smile was standing on his face. He knew it would probably turn out to be a bad idea in the end, but he really wanted to try it now. It might make his life a little less bland to have another living creature in his apartment, and maybe it might even make his headaches go away. Then again, he was not even certain how to properly take care of a Pokémon, but that seemed less important to him. His life had reached a certain point at which he was not afraid of negative consequences anymore. Everything was boring, slow and unsatisfying anyway, and he knew he was unusually bitter for his age, so he was certain that nothing could possibly hit him too hard. For someone like him, who had lost his hopes and all his motivation years ago, there was nothing to fear.
He took a bus to the shop. Inside, there were many shelves filled with Pokéballs, and a picture under each of them that showed the Pokémon that was inside. A store clerk immediately came up to him and offered to help him choose, but Thomas asked him kindly to just leave him alone. It was not like he had that much of a choice, anyway, since he had to keep in mind the expenses. He was sure he would be able to pay for the food that would be necessary, as it did not seem to cost all that much; however, the price tags on the Pokéballs were ludicrous. Thomas figured that this was the case because most of the Pokémon were advertised as good fighters, as very obedient, or as especially cute.
It took him some time to find one that he could afford. Taking a quick look at the picture, he nodded. It was a young Houndour. Without thinking too much about it, Thomas took the ball and brought it to the counter, together with a leash and a few cans of food, which was rather cheap. He paid for it without talking too much and then left.
When he got home, he immediately let his new comrade out of its Pokéball. The Houndour looked up at him with big, uncertain eyes as it sat down on the floor. Thomas was not sure what he should do. After a moment he kneeled down and carefully patted its head. The Houndour seemed to enjoy this treatment at least a little, so Thomas kept doing it for a few minutes.
He then stood up again and let the Pokémon explore the new location. The Houndour kept sniffing around the apartment for about half an hour. Then it noticed the window. It jumped up on the window sill and stared outside. Thomas blinked.
"Oh, you need to go outside?" he assumed. The Houndour turned its head towards him. Thomas stepped up to it and quickly put it on the leash. "Here, let's go," he said. The Pokémon jumped to the ground and then followed him to the door.
They walked through the city for a while, stopping every now and then, whenever the Houndour wanted it. Sometimes it was tugging a little on the leash, and Thomas had to be careful not to let it run onto the street, but most of the time the Pokémon seemed to be rather calm and obedient. It was apparently intelligent enough to notice that the leash kept it from running away, so the Houndour did not even try it.
After about an hour had gone by, they returned to the apartment. Thomas took the Pokémon off the leash, and it immediately jumped up onto the window sill and stared outside once more. He frowned.
"You can't tell me you need to go outside again," he said. The Houndour turned its head towards him. Its eyes still seemed to be full of uncertainty, but there was hope in there as well. After a short moment, the Pokémon looked outside the window again. Thomas tried to follow its gaze with his eyes. He noticed that the Houndour was not looking at the streets, or at the houses. Its eyes appeared to be focused on the mountains that almost seemed to disappear in the distance. Thomas sighed.
"I'll get you something to eat," he said. He went into the kitchen, put some of the Pokémon food that he had bought in a bowl, and then brought it to the Houndour, which jumped to the floor and ate. After the Pokémon was done, it quickly returned to the window sill, just as Thomas had expected.
It spent its whole day on there. Thomas was relatively certain that he knew the reason. The Houndour had probably been caught not too long ago, so it was still hoping it could return to the wild. Now, that was, of course, impossible. Thomas had paid quite a bit of money for the Houndour, so now he did not want it to leave him. It was apparently not feeling well, but that could not be helped; after all, Thomas was not feeling well, either. At least now he had someone to share his discomfort with, and that made it a bit easier.
When it was time to go to sleep, the Houndour apparently still did not want to leave its favorite place in the apartment, and Thomas did not feel like forcing it to. Even when he got up the next day, the Houndour was still sitting on the window sill. He took it outside, fed it and then, since it was Sunday and he had nothing to do, decided to just watch TV once again. All day long, the Pokémon only left its place to eat or to go outside together with Thomas.
The next day came, and Thomas had to go to work. He returned in the evening, finding the Houndour just where he had expected it to be. He turned on the TV, but his gaze kept resting on the Pokémon. After a while, he sighed deeply.
"You want to go home, don't you?" he asked. The Houndour looked at him. All this time, it had not made a single sound, but that was not necessary anyway. Its eyes told Thomas everything.
"You know, I've grown up to be a bitter man," Thomas said. "I don't have to care about what you want." The Pokémon did not show any sign of understanding him, but its eyes still seemed to be full of hope.
"I doubt it'd help you much if I let you be free," he went on. "You're probably hundreds of miles away from your former home." There was no answer, of course.
"I don't want to be alone again," Thomas said. "I don't want to just lose all that money I had to pay to get you, either." A short moment passed.
"You'll grow used to living here," he continued, "just like I did." The Houndour's gaze was still resting on him. Thomas sighed as he felt his headache become stronger.
He stood up, turned off the TV and reached for his wallet and the Pokéball.
The ticket for the train out of town cost quite a bit, but Thomas did not really care anymore. There was nothing he could have been saving his money for, anyway. When he finally got out of the train, it was already night. He knew he would not be able to return for about two hours, but that was unimportant. There was nobody who could have expected him to come home.
It was the last train station before the forest began.
He let the Houndour out of the Pokéball.
"There," he said. "Run away, just so you won't become as bitter as I am." The Pokémon looked up at him for a short moment. Then it noticed the forest, and immediately dashed off.
Thomas still had his headache, but at least the Houndour would not have one, too.
(1992 words)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter End Notes:This was the first chapter that was not mainly focusing on a Pokémon, but had a human protagonist instead. There will be at least one more of this kind, so I hope it didn't bother anyone who reads this story. Thank you very much for your interest; if you'd like to comment, please write a review or send an email to [email protected] .
Please be free...
-- Lion vom Silberwal