TEEN: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

[Ghostsoul]

The start of this fic feels like a fairly mixed bag. It’s definitely not bad but a few areas let it down a bit.

You’ve established a world fairly similar to the Pokémon Mystery Dungeon games with some new twists that make it more unique. ‘The association’ is like the guild from PMD2 with a very different spin on it and exploration of ‘aura powers’ in more detail. I feel this can also be used to explore the more social themes of the PMD universe later in the fic. For example, what it means to be certain ranks in the guild etc.

Many of the changes you’ve made are also used to make the universe of PMD feel much deadlier and less human than in the games. Many of the fight scenes (such as what we see in the prologue) feel impactful and dangerous. The introduction of ‘mutant’ Pokémon and these ‘pink clouds’ also adds to this factor of danger and add a new obstacle and mystery to the fic.

The similarity to the games is also established through the use of game mechanics to describe actions. Most of these time they add flavour to the fic and don’t feel forced. Such as the use of the evolite, mention of Pokémon types and use of dungeon mechanics are often fluid. However, when these game mechanics are employed during fight scenes they tend to have the opposite effect. They make you lose the ‘feel’ of the story. For example, it’s much better to know what the ‘faint attack’ looks and feels like rather than simply mentioning that it was a ‘faint attack’. This tends to make fight scenes much more intense and epic.

In fact, I feel as if the setting could be better described in general in many places; dungeons are beautiful, strange and hostile places and I believe they deserve more attention when you chose to write about them. This will also help with another issue the story has, moving on from scenes too quickly at times. This made it feel as if the story was being rushed through. If the scenes were a bit more detailed and longer this would let them feel as if they have more meaning. For example, the dream sequence in the prologue would have been a good opening but sadly it came across as cliché and a bit empty because of its length. Stuff like this can easily be fixed with a bit more setting description.

I’d like to see a bit more from Owen. So far we are a bit unsure about why he wants to be a part of the ‘association’. I’m guessing it’s mostly to prove himself as a ‘late evolver’ that he can be a great adventurer. I wonder if something in his backstory has also made him this way. I imagine we will find out. The other characters, we haven’t seen much of them so far. But many of them were introduced fairly quickly and mostly seem to be there to help Owen’s journey as the protagonist.

I feel that, somewhat, the story would benefit being told in first person (from Owen’s POV directly) rather than third person (how it is now). The story seems to very much be about Owen and very dialogue heavy as first-person writing tends to be. It would also enable you to emphasise the environment of the dungeons a little less since first-person writing allows you to look at internal thoughts in more detail. I’m not saying you have to change it, but I feel the fic itself would have more focus this way.

You have a fic with a lot of game elements and some interesting worldbuilding on top of that. I wonder how this world will affect Owen and his ambitions. I have a feeling this fic may take an even darker tone down the road – if and when it will, I’ll have to see.

 

[namohysip]

Heyy, didn't expect to get more feedback already! Nice!

For example, it’s much better to know what the ‘faint attack’ looks and feels like rather than simply mentioning that it was a ‘faint attack’.

Whoops, looks like I missed another one! My bad. Gahi 'weaving in and out' and attacking up close was meant to be the descriptor when he did it for the first time, but I suppose I can describe it again in a slightly different way.

I feel as if the setting could be better described in general in many places; dungeons are beautiful, strange and hostile places and I believe they deserve more attention when you chose to write about them.

Describing settings is something I have to do a careful balance of sometimes. I really dislike when describing a setting goes on for longer than it needs to, especially when it's overly flowery. That being said, I feel a good compromise would be to sprinkle in additional descriptions later on, such as when Owen was fleeing from Aerodactyl and all that. I'll keep that in mind for future chapters. Another Dungeon is coming up in the next chapter, so I'll put that to the test then.

moving on from scenes too quickly at times.

Huh, this is the first time I've gotten this. Others have said that my early chapters are too slow because it doesn't get into the "real action" yet. The specific example you gave was the "dream sequence" that wasn't really a dream, as indicated by a few chapters later, and I suppose it was a little fast paced. I'll keep that in mind for future scenes in particular, though. Some things will indeed need some fleshing out.

I feel that, somewhat, the story would benefit being told in first person

I see why you're saying this right now, and if this story remained in Owen's perspective for its entirety, I'd agree (even though I don't like writing in first person.) But come a few chapters, the story won't exclusively be over Owen's ill-defined shoulders. So, I compromise and do third person limited, getting into the head of whatever character I'm looking over the shoulder of--in this case, Owen, for the most part.

I have a feeling this fic may take an even darker tone down the road

As a general policy, I don't confirm or deny speculation outright. However, I'm interested that you think the fic will get into a darker tone down the line. Must be all the looming dread that Owen constantly feels~

Thanks again for the feedback! I've decided not to send the next part out until Sunday, if only to make up for my accidental rapid-fire last week...

P.S. Thanks for the feedback as well, canisaries! Replied to you elsewhere!

 

[namohysip]

Chapter 4 – Strange Meditation​

Owen forced himself to settle down for lunch. He didn’t know if his heart was racing or sluggish. It was a strange mixture of beating quickly, and then slowing down to rhythmic, loud booms. The excitement killed his appetite, like his stomach was already satiated with his hopes, dreams, and fears, but he knew he had to force something down for the mission portion of the exams.

Ludicolo Café was lined with bright brown walls and large, green tables that resembled a Ludicolo’s hat. Ludicolo himself was dancing along the aisles, serving drinks, along with other assistant waiters and waitresses. The exams were a spectacle for the average citizen, and the activity was a strain on the staff. Owen hoped they got paid extra for this day.

His meal, which he forced himself to enjoy, was an apple smoothie with tough strawberry sweetbread. His next mission could be soon and he didn’t want to have any heavy proteins that would make his lizard brain sluggish. He had to be wary of his instincts.

Lucario Rhys entered the café with the trio.

Good, they got him. “Hey!” Owen waved. His tail blazed a bit brighter with joy.

“Hey, where’s yer folks?” Gahi asked. “Y’know, the ones at that place Rhys brought yeh.”

“Oh, they have to stay inside and do their work and stuff,” Owen said. “They knew I’d be doing all these qualifiers, but…”

“I’m sure they’ll be very proud,” Rhys said, nodding.

Owen eyed the bag around his neck. It was glowing again.

“Well, go on,” Rhys told the three. “Get your food. You skipped breakfast.”

“Meh,” the Trapinch grumbled, wobbling forward first.

Owen watched them get in line but then turned to Rhys. “You aren’t eating?”

“There is no need for now. I will have lunch later.”

“How come they skipped breakfast?”

“I used that as punishment.” The Lucario grunted. “They would have a big lunch to compensate. They were trying to touch some of my treasures again.”

“You mean that orb in your bag?”

No reply; Rhys only held the strap a bit tighter.

“It’s kinda glowing again, isn’t it?” Owen tilted his head. He leaned forward to get a better look, but Rhys placed a paw over it. “I think that pink mist I saw earlier came from that bag. Do you think it wants me to touch—”

“You simply shouldn’t,” Rhys said curtly. “It would be very bad if you touched it here.”

Owen watched Rhys carefully. “Do you know what that mist was? Or who?”

“I cannot be certain,” Rhys lied, and Owen knew that much.

“Can I at least see it?”

“You may not.”

“Is it too strong for normal Po—” Someone tapped on his shoulder. “H-hey! Nevren!”

“I was looking for you!” The Alakazam gave a cheerful little bow. “I wanted to congratulate you on your successful battle against James, much better than any other Charmander on record. Though, I should probably mark it down as an outlier in the logs. After all, you’re a late-evolver, as you call it, hm?”

Owen began with a babble. “Yeah. I did well enough that James had to refresh his Substitute. But it was still not that good—I hope I’m not getting weaker from taking easy assignments or something. I’ve been feeling a little off lately.”

Rhys glanced at Nevren, but then at Owen. “Indeed, you’re quite strong for a Charmander.”

“It isn’t as if Trapinch, Axew, and Chikorita normally do that well, either,” Nevren noted. “And yes, it’s quite strong, but it’s still weak in the grand scheme of the Hearts. Still, he has the benefits of my Eviolite that I gave him,” Nevren said. “Though, during the exams, you will have to go without it, just as you had against James.”

“Aw, I’ll do fine.” Owen waved his claws dismissively. “That Aerodactyl was a fluke.”

“Ahh, Aerodactyl, yes,” Nevren said. “He was quite strong, wasn’t he? I imagine if he cooperated, his performance at the test you took would be quite substantial.” He nodded. “Ahh, Rhys. And how are you doing?”

“Just fine, Nevren.”

Owen sensed, for the briefest moment, a thickness in the atmosphere. Muscles on Rhys looked tense, and Nevren was standing still for longer than usual. Owen rubbed his head—his awareness of the bodies nearby was starting to get to him in such a crowded place. He wished he could turn it off.

“Back!” Gahi said, hauling his head onto the table; on top of Gahi was his plate, which slid onto the table. Demitri and Mispy took their seats next, carrying their plates in a much more normal fashion, with Mispy using her vines.

“D’you like this café, Owen?” Demitri asked.

“It’s good for something quick, and the smoothies!”

Nevren eyed the four of them slowly. “Well! You seem to have these trainees in order, Rhys. Will you be overseeing them?”

“Y-yes,” Rhys said. “I will, though Owen has elsewhere to be than my home.”

“Ahh, that’s true,” Nevren said. “Though, I suspect you may want to mentor him. Is that right?”

There it was again. Owen was sure of it this time. Tension. He felt an atmosphere of irritation, the flicking of Rhys’ tail, the bristling of fur. Or perhaps there was something more. What was it? From Rhys? Or Nevren?

“Yes,” Rhys said. “I think I will.”

Owen stopped focusing on the atmosphere and realized the words being said. “Wait—Rhys, you’re gonna be my mentor?”

“If you pass.”

“I’m gonna get Rhys as a mentor! Y-yes! Yes!” Owen stood up. Forget the creeping dread—he was about to get trained by an Elite! He sprinted off; all that was left behind of him was a stray ember from his tail.

Demitri jumped in surprise. “Wh-where’re you going?!”

“Practicals!”

Demitri stared, but then looked back at Owen’s plate. “He left a bit of his sandwich,” he mourned.

One of Mispy’s vines greedily wrapped around the remains.

<><><>​

There was a long line for the exams. Due to the irregular sizes of everybody waiting in the queue, there was no telling how many were there. Between the Rhydon ahead and the squad of Eevee evolutions behind, it could have been anywhere between five and fifteen Pokémon ahead. Despite this, when Owen stepped in line, it became even longer behind him.

“Talk about lucky.” He leaned to the side to get a better look at what the exams were like. Last year, they were mock Dungeon explorations. It seemed to be the same case this time around. Owen was first able to register his ID, and afterward, agonizingly waited with the other Pokémon for his name to be called.

All the times before, he had been rejected. He wasn’t sure why. He did well in the academic and sparring portions, to the best of his memory.

It looked like candidates were heading into different Waypoints with established Hearts. Owen recognized most of the tiles as connections to weaker Dungeons that he’d be able to easily beat. If the test was to just get past those—this would be easy!

He also noticed Anam standing in the back, watching every Heart get assigned. James was reading from a list, showing it to Anam every time. Every so often, Anam shook his head, and James seemingly skipped that line. How odd. Did Anam have the final say? Once a name was approved, James passed the word to the announcer. Owen’s heart picked up the pace. Did his name just get skipped? Was that it?

Three more Pokémon were called in, and Owen shuffled aside to let them through. He spotted Nevren walking past them; the Alakazam glanced at him and then flashed a small smile. He then spoke quietly to the Pokémon at the front, managing the candidates, and then walked away.

James showed Anam the list again, and this time, he was staring at it for a while. So long that Owen and the others in the group wondered what the holdup was. Anam mumbled something to James, and James mumbled something back. Nevren stepped over and checked who was on the list. He tapped Anam on the shoulder—a trail of slime connected his finger to Anam thereafter—and said something else.

C’mon, body, why can’t you zero in on what they’re saying? Owen complained, but the crowd around him distracted both his ears and whatever other strange sense he had. There was no body language for him to detect from so far away.

And then, finally, Golem spoke again. “Next! Charmander-1!”

Wait. He was called? He was called! He made it into the practical exam! “Y-yes!”

The crowd waited anxiously for two more names to be called.

“Oh, sorry, everyone. Nevren wants to personally test Owen alone,” Golem said, “since he is such an exceptional case with his test results.”

Why did he have to phrase it like that? Owen shrank down. “S-sorry…” He didn’t need to look back to feel the envious glares. “How come I’m exceptional? Oh, because I’m a late-evolver and stuff?”

“Yeah. For a Charmander, at least. You sure you didn’t eat an Everstone or something?”

“No! I’ll evolve soon! So much for being a kid, huh?” Owen remembered this Golem from before. Still, he figured he should stop letting his size dictate his behavior. If he kept getting insecure about his size and stature, maybe he did deserve to be called a kid.

Alakazam Nevren approached, his mustache grand as ever. “Good to see you, Owen. It’s about time that we leave for your test. Please, come with me.”

<><><>​

Eternal Whistler Cave was on the northern peaks, with ancient, black mountains carved by a constant, shredding wind. The cave itself was a structure that went in a winding path from one side of the mountain to the other; the cold air blew through this labyrinthine passageway constantly. The result was a noise of wind running through the cave, like a deep whistle or moan of some great titan.

The easy way through the cave was to follow the wind, which blew from the south toward the north; the difficult way was against it. A very small distortion existed here, leading to a small, junior-level Dungeon that was even less threatening than the one where he had encountered Aerodactyl.

Aside from the atmosphere itself, that is. The ocean was behind them; sheer cliffs threatened to plunge Owen to his death if he took a single misstep. And he had nearly done so quite a few times. He imagined using his Badge as an emergency warp-away would be an automatic failure for this test.

“S-so… c-cold…!” Owen’s teeth chattered, his hot blood becoming an uncomfortable lukewarm beneath his skin.

“Keep it up, Owen! The caves will be quite windy.”

“Y-you don’t s-say?”

Owen wasn’t sure what was more irritating: the fact that he, a Fire Type, was so weak that he was starting to feel cold, or the fact that Nevren was so calm and unflinching against the same weather. Waves crashed on the rocks far below. Owen decided long ago not to look down. If he fell, the descent would last at least ten seconds, at least. He didn’t want to find out what would kill him first—the cold of the water, or the force of the impact.

This wasn’t even on the approved lists of exam Dungeons! The falls were too dangerous! What if he died?

His flame, half its usual size, cried for shelter.

Owen’s bag was securely fastened around his neck, pushed so strongly by the wind that the strap left an imprint on the scales of his chest. If he stayed in this sort of wind any longer, it’d surely fuse into his body completely. He squinted through the gusts and followed Nevren into the cave. As promised, it was even windier than before.

“Oh, come on!” Owen screamed over the wind.

“We’re almost there!” Nevren said cheerfully.

Finally, Nevren made an odd turn into an alcove. There, when Owen entered, the wind became much weaker. It was just a room with a rocky wall, but the tunnel ended abruptly in a dead end.

“Wh—huh?” Owen built up the courage to open his eyes.

“This is an offshoot from the main path,” Nevren said. “The wind has nowhere to continue through. It will be weaker here. An ideal spot to meditate, don’t you think? Before we enter the Dungeon proper.”

“Oh—yeah! Did I mention that I meditate? I must’ve forgotten.” Owen’s body relaxed, his flame finally having some reprieve from the bitter gusts. “It helps me to clear my head. Sometimes I can even get to think up new fighting techniques, y’know?”

Nevren nodded. “I’ll allow you to do that before we have our true Dungeon exploration.”

“Okay, sure!” Owen found a nice spot near the right side of the offshoot and sat down. There, he closed his eyes, trying his best to meditate. Now that the wind wasn’t constantly battering him, the general cold was much more tolerable, the natural heat of his body more than making up for it.

Breathe in, breathe out.

“…Say, Nevren.”

“Hmm?” Nevren was settled on the opposite side of the offshoot.

“You’re a Psychic Type, right? So, does that mean you’re sorta more in tune with the mind?”

“Well, yes, though I would say the stereotype is exaggerated.”

“That’s good, um,” Owen said, but then paused to consider how to phrase it, “because I think I’m crazy. I don’t want to—to make you worried or anything, but sometimes I just get this feeling that I’ve done something before. This stuff, right now? This feels new. But, like, talking to Rhys, and his students, feels like I’m having the same conversation all over again.”

“Ah, how strange,” Nevren said. “But I do not think you are crazy. Perhaps you are excited.”

“Excited,” Owen repeated. “And what about if…” Owen wondered if he should mention the pink mist. “Uh… never mind. I’m probably just sleep-deprived. I was so excited for today that I only slept for, maybe, a blink’s worth of time, y’know?”

“Ah. Well. What better way to freshen the mind than to meditate?”

“Yeah, okay.” The chilled Charmander closed his eyes and steadied his breath. Clear my mind. Just listen to the world, he thought to himself and then attempted to think no longer.

The whistling of the wind was all that filled his head. He was well-versed in this sort of meditation, and he was able to slip into the state very easily, only vaguely aware of the world around him. Owen’s thoughts became deeply inward, envisioning himself standing in a void. His body no longer moved—only his inner body, like his aura, in his thoughts, in this void. He went into a battle stance in this void, blasting plumes of fire in the dark. They became Flamethrowers shortly after. He stomped on the ground, leaving Fire Traps behind. Shadowy creatures, envisioned dummies, chased him to put the traps to use, but Owen defeated them easily. They evaporated in a black fog, much like the ominous shadows that James became.

Owen was surrounded. He blasted the dummies ahead of him with flames, clearing the way, and stomped on the ground for the dummies behind him. Then, he ran ahead. His form grew. It reddened and became taller; his flame became hotter. A horn emerged from the back of his head. The Charmeleon in the void spun around and scorched the dummies. He crouched forward, and his back expanded; the outer layer of his scales and skin split open, forming wings; the single horn split as well, becoming two on either side of the back of his head.

Yes! Oh, the feeling, this was what he wanted, what he always imagined. Charizard! To fly through the sky, scorching his foes below. More, higher, stronger—keep fighting! Don’t let the fire go out! It was a surreal mixture of elation and serenity. A fantasy that calmed his aura. Slowly, his Charizard aura touched the ground, and the flames died down. Calm, calm. Keep it all calm. Burn slowly. Crackle, crackle… The embers turned gold and black.

In the real world, Owen abruptly jumped to his right.

“Ngh—what?”

His body had moved on its own in reaction to something. He looked at where he once was; the rocks were severely warped into oblong shapes by a strange force. He stared ahead and saw Nevren, who was staring back with a blank, emotionless expression.

“A-Alakazam Nevr—”

Nevren’s eyes glowed bright, and Owen knew to dodge again. The rocks behind him twisted in the same way.

“What’re you doing?!”

The rocks kept twisting around him; he had to keep moving. Nevren held his arm forward; electricity crackled from his spoon. This time, it was too fast. A horrible pain rushed through Owen’s body; his legs refused to listen to any command. And then, he felt another pain—a twisting, indirect, dull, but incredible sensation of pressure across his entire body, like a giant hand twisting him into a spiral.

Owen screamed and shook. He could move again. He fell on his knees, coughing; everything hurt. Everything felt broken. He tried to take a breath, but something there wasn’t working.

Nevren stared at Owen. His eyes glowed.

He was going to kill him. Right here, Nevren was trying to kill him. That could be the only explanation. Owen’s mind switched immediately to survival as if he was fighting a hostile outlaw, but there wasn’t much he could do. His body was already broken. He didn’t have time to reach into his bag for any assistance. Was this it? Why? Nevren, what was he doing?

He didn’t even get to evolve.

Owen hallucinated a vision of three red gemstones in front of him. Confusion washed into fear—and then—just as quickly, into something primal. A roar of madness echoed in Owen’s mind.

His vision felt red. The pain vanished. His body moved. It broke more from it, but without pain to stop him, he kept moving.

He dodged the Psychic attack and rushed at Nevren. He jumped—the little Charmander was now at Nevren’s height in the air, in for a full collision. He opened his mouth; his fangs were red-hot, and he was in a direct course for Nevren’s neck, but the Alakazam weaved to the right. Owen spun his head and blasted Nevren’s face with fire. Nevren grunted and Owen landed. He landed oddly on his foot, spraining it or worse, but it didn’t matter. He flung himself toward Nevren again.

Nevren couldn’t dodge this one. Owen wrapped his arms around Nevren, getting as strong a hold as he could; in a split-second, his teeth sank into Nevren’s neck. Owen didn’t hold back. His jaw clenched as hard as it could. He tasted Nevren’s blood. He felt the pressure of him trying to gasp for breath. He crunched harder. Harder. Owen never felt so alive. More. More. He breathed fire into the wound—

Owen opened his eyes with a jolt.

The Charmander was on the ground, legs crossed. He was on the right side of the room. Nevren was still sitting where he had been when he started meditating. The only sound was the wind whistling. The rocks in the alcove were normal and untwisted. His body felt just fine. Relaxed, even, like it usually did after a meditation session.

“Hm?” Nevren asked, perfectly unharmed and unaware. “Is something the matter? You weren’t meditating for long.”

“I… I…” Owen rubbed his head. “I think the altitude is getting to me, Nevren. I don’t think I can meditate here. I’m used to doing it underground, y’know?”

“Ah,” Nevren said. “I see. Well, there’s no use in trying further if the environment isn’t ideal. Why don’t we simply advance through the Dungeon normally?”

Owen stood up, dusting himself off. Just in case, he checked his body for any possible injuries, but there weren’t any.

Maybe he was crazy.

<><><>​

It was easy. The Dungeon was filled with Rock Pokémon like Geodude and Shieldon, yes, but Owen wasn’t afraid of them. He could tell that they were weak. Unlike the Aerodactyl, which was hard to get close to, Owen could easily approach these slow-moving wilds and dispatch them with a single swipe of hardened claws.

This Dungeon was in a rough area in terms of its environment, but the Pokémon themselves were less than formidable. For that, he was thankful—as the wind was still relentless. Nevren had a barrier up ahead of them to ward off most of the atmospheric onslaught.

Within the cave, small pieces of sediment constantly chipped off of the walls, forcing Owen to walk with his eyes partially shut for fear of getting bits of mountain dust in them. Despite the barrier, Owen’s body shivered at every step. It was like walking on frost.

But other thoughts distracted Owen from most of the harsh elements of the cave. He dwelled on the strange dream he had. After his last experience with dreams, he was growing paranoid about what was real and what was a trick of the mind.

“N-Nevren?” Owen asked, nearing the final segment of the Dungeon. “When you meditate, do you get weird dreams?”

“Hm? No, not that I’m aware,” Nevren said. “Is that what happened? You seem quite shaken.”

“Yeah,” Owen said, deciding not to comment that his current shaking was due to the cold. “At first it was normal. I was just fighting in a big, black room, kinda. I mean, not a room, since there weren’t any walls, but that’s how it usually goes. But then, suddenly I felt like…” Owen hesitated, “You were gonna attack me. And you were! I mean, in my dream. And then… and then I think I went crazy. I started to see red, and I stopped feeling pain from all your super strong attacks, um, and then”—Owen considered how truthful to be—“I don’t think I remember what happened after that.”

“Hmm. That’s a very vivid dream.”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “I think I shouldn’t try to do that on high mountains. O-or cold ones.”

“Well, regardless of that,” Nevren said, “I’m quite confident in your abilities. I will be giving you a very positive review to James regarding your performance. I can guarantee your acceptance into the Thousand Hearts.”

“W-wait—really?!”

A sneaky Geodude threw a rock at Owen. The rock shattered on his head and Owen didn’t pay it a single mind.

“Of course!” Nevren said. “This is one of the designated testing Dungeons. If a recruit can pass it without assistance, and shows little signs of struggle, then it means you are ready to be part of the first tier of the Thousand Hearts.”

The same Geodude threw a rock at Nevren. The Alakazam tilted his head and it whistled by, missing completely.

“You may think of yourself as unskilled”—Nevren shook his head—“but in reality, few non-wild Pokémon get this strong or adept at fighting to handle such a task without trouble. Most only train themselves until they can reach the final stage of their species’ evolutions.”

It made sense to Owen. He didn’t know how long he had been training for this moment. He had taken on more moderately difficult Dungeons in preparation for the exams.

The Geodude tossed a rock at Owen again. Owen caught it without looking.

“So, I’ve just been training for so long,” Owen said, “that my normal is most others’ abnormal?”

His claws turned silver from a metallic energy and he crushed the rock. Geodude yelped and seemed to decide Owen wasn’t worth his time.

“Yes, precisely!” Nevren said, chuckling. “You’re quite abnormal indeed, Owen.”

Owen carefully stepped over a small crevice; Nevren had barely noticed it, but Owen’s shorter stature made it a conscious effort to avoid falling in.

“Aw, shucks!” Owen laughed.

A volley of rocks grazed the top of his scaly scalp.

A gutsy Carbink threw a rock at Nevren from behind. A barrier blocked the attack, nullifying it completely.

“These guys are persistent,” Owen said.

“They’re merely territorial,” Nevren said. “Well! Let’s finish this Dungeon. You can wait for the promotion announcements in the evening. Perhaps with your friends? Team Alloy? I quite like that name.”

“Totally.”

It was a formality after all. After so many blurry years of training, Owen finally got into the Thousand Hearts. All that remained was the final ceremony…

<><><>​

After completing the Dungeon and parting ways with Nevren, he spotted Gahi returning from his squad of potential recruits near the Heart headquarters. Owen ran over. “Gahi! How’d it go?”

“Went fine. Gonna go and give my report ter James first, and I’ll be right back, eh?”

“Sure.”

Fast as always, Gahi didn’t take long to head back out.

“So,” Owen said, “how’d those recruits do? The ones you handled?”

“Feh, they ain’t ready.” He clicked his jaws. “Figure yeh passed, though?”

“Nevren said that he was gonna give me a review brighter than my tail, so I hope so!”

“Heh.” Gahi’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Well, ain’t that something. Maybe we can form a team o’ four, go exploring. Three’s a good number that most recommend, but eh, four ain’t beyond us and what a Badge can handle.”

Owen nodded. “Yeah. But I don’t think I’m gonna go to that Dungeon again. I tried to meditate there, and I think I got a low-air dream or something, because…” His attention was caught by a passing conversation.

“ . . . Strange, isn’t it?”

“Creepy, more like!”

“They should’ve investigated.”

“No way! That wasn’t part of the mission!”

Owen cleared his throat. “Um—what was creepy?”

“Y’didn’t hear?” Gahi asked.

“What?”

“One o’ the teams that went out headed ter Calm Water Lake.” Gahi jerked his massive head in the direction of the Waypoint rows. “Around the third section, there was an eerie glow from the walls. A recruit got lost on the path, took a wrong turn, I dunno.”

“A weird glow?” Owen asked, flame growing just slightly in height. “Was the group the one with Rhys?”

Gahi shook his head. “Nope. Rhys handled some other team. They’re gonna send someone in ter investigate. Pro’ly gonna see the mission go up soon.” Gahi glanced at Owen. “Once I grab Demitri ‘n Mispy… Wanna go?”

Was it the same sort of glow? That orb? But Rhys didn’t go with them, so it couldn’t be from his weird, green orb. But there was a cold pit in his stomach when he thought about it. That must have been the thought of going to a watery Dungeon. Still, his curiosity trumped his Type, and he agreed.

Anything to get some clues.

 

[Ambyssin]

Ludicolo is the perfect 'mon to run a café. I imagine Miror B's Retro Groove playing in the background... because of course it is. alternatively, Wario de Mucho. Anyway, Owen is incredibly perceptive. I say that because I'm not used to seeing a PMD protagonist that's this good at picking up on subtle shifts in body language like Owen is. I'd almost say it's a bit too good but you've claimed Owen is an adult and he's been a 'mon his whole life, so I guess he's learned a thing or two.

Like before, either I'm getting paranoid in my old age or you do a good job through Owen's vantage of making both Rhys and Nevren seem... less than trustworthy. Especially when the location he goes to doesn't scream "introductory dungeon." It's also a funny name b/c I've skied at Whistler Mountain plenty in the past, so I couldn't stop think about it. That said, I do think you could've done with showcasing the wind effecting the terrain a bit more. Even a mountain would have dust and debris getting blown about that would interfere with Owen's vision. It's not a huge deal, just thought I'd throw that out there. Especially since the description of the dungeon that follows is... bare bones. Like, you don't even mention a single species of Pokémon. You toss out "wilds" and "rock-types" but that's about it. Doesn't give me much to go off of. I mean, Onyx is a very weak rock-type by game stats standards, but it's big and imposing looking. You throw in a Geodude and a Carbink later, but they're not even really considered threats. Just background noise. XP

I will say you got me with that fake-out in the meditation bit. Then again, I'm not a terribly astute reader. But I did believe that Nevren was ambushing Owen and the Eviolite was just a trick to lull him into a false sense of security. So, points for you, I guess? With the somewhat awkward conversation that follows in the dungeon, I get this unusual sense that what we witnessed was one of the memories Owen had erased. And, on top of that, me thinks he's going to find the source of the eerie glow and, if it is an orb like Rhys', that'll be the one he touches and makes all sorts of bad things happen.

Last bit is a nitpick: I think you over did it with Gahi's accent here. Way too many letters swapped out with apostrophes. It wasn't as noticeable in the first three chapters, but in the last scene it was... egregious.

Anyway, nice job. I'll be posting this on Serebii too for the game there, so don't get surprise. Some closing thoughts to end off:

Owen forced himself to settle down for lunch. He didn’t know if his heart was racing or sluggish. It was a strange mixture of beating quickly, and then slowing down to rhythmic, loud booms.

In my business, we call that A-Fib or V-Fib and I'm pretty sure the nurses would be standing by with the defibrillator.

like a giant hand twisting him like a cork in a bottle.

Having two "likes" here kind of undermines the simile you're going for and makes this awkward. I'd try to avoid this, if I were you.

 

[canisaries]

(crossposting from Serebii)

Now then... Let's get weird.

WEIRD WOOOO i like weird

Ludicolo himself was dancing along the aisles, serving drinks, along with other assistant waiters and waitresses.

Come to think of it, Ludicolo's a great choice for a café keeper. That hat's a built in tray.

James showed Anam the list again, and this time, he was staring at it for a long time. So long, in fact, that Owen and the others in the group wondered what the holdup was. Anam mumbled something to James, and James mumbled something back. Nevren stepped over and checked who was on the list. He tapped Anam on the shoulder—a trail of slime connected his finger to Anam thereafter—and said something else.

Hmm. Really makes you think just how wide this conspiracy Owen's parents are involved in is spread...

“W-wait—really?!” Owen asked; a sneaky Geodude threw a rock at Owen, hitting him in the back.

A gutsy Carbink threw a rock at Nevren from behind; a barrier blocked the attack, nullifying it completely.

I'm not at all an expert in semicolon usage as I just straight up never do it, but these confuse me even within the little I know. These semicolons don't seem to have any purpose. They could be replaced with periods and nothing would change except the fact that I wouldn't be asking this question.

General Comments

I liked the evolution sequence, and the Nevren fight caught me off guard as I imagine was intended. I just hope the explanation behind these events won't be too complicated, as I'm kind of at my limits of keeping up with all the different unexplained phenomena so far. We have the mutants, Owen feeling like he's done things before, Owen being a late evolver, Rhys' glowy thingy, the pink cloud at Rhys' house and now an evolution/fight illusion and a glowy wall in a dungeon. I feel like I'm forgetting a few more, even. It may well all make sense later on, but I fear I'm not even gonna remember half the stuff by then.

Hm, this turned out more commentary-like than a review... I guess that's bound to happen for a chapterly replier. Still wish I had more to say, though.

 

[namohysip]

I imagine Miror B's Retro Groove playing in the background... because of course it is

Gonna be totally honest here, I totally forgot about Mirror B. and his signature 'mon. And now I can't stop thinking about it. It fits too well!

Owen is incredibly perceptive. I say that because I'm not used to seeing a PMD protagonist that's this good at picking up on subtle shifts in body language like Owen is. I'd almost say it's a bit too good but you've claimed Owen is an adult and he's been a 'mon his whole life, so I guess he's learned a thing or two.

I'm glad you picked up on this! (Not that I was subtle about it.) This is actually a trait of Owen's that I intend to capitalize on in more ways than one down the line. But as far as we can tell right now, he's just a very savvy Charmander.

Especially since the description of the dungeon that follows is... bare bones.

Ahh, I knew I was forgetting to describe something. I'll be adding in a few knickknacks to bring the barren dungeon alive! Same goes for the incoming Dungeon's description, which was also a bit lacking in hindsight.

I will say you got me with that fake-out in the meditation bit.

Intended effect! I'm hoping that the reader can scratch their head just as Owen is.

I think you over did it with Gahi's accent here.

Yeah, I'm going to be toning down Gahi's accent a bit, at least in terms of how I write it out. At this point, I think the reader has an idea of what he's supposed to "sound" like, so I can be minimalist on his... style of speech.

WEIRD WOOOO i like weird

My friend, you are going to LOVE the next few chapters. Things are about to go into full swing. Either in the next chapter, or the one following? I'm personally very hyped to "finally" get started. The overture is coming to a close.

I just hope the explanation behind these events won't be too complicated, as I'm kind of at my limits of keeping up with all the different unexplained phenomena so far.

I apologize for this. It's definitely a lot to follow, but I can assure you that if it's a lot for you to follow, then Owen's going to need a few reminders, too! I did my best to manage the information flow enough that the reader can get it in a steady stream and, more importantly, some of the older pieces will come up as reminders here and there. If you happen to forget a detail, I'm sure that when it becomes important again, subtle reminders will help clue you in on that lost info. I don't hand-hold the reader, but I don't expect them to hit the ground running, either. It's my job to get them up to speed.

Without spoiling too much, I can at least assure you that answers are coming soon to some of these questions. Like I mentioned above... the overture is ending soon.

Anyway, see you guys soon! I plan to upload the next chapter tomorrow night.

 

[namohysip]

Chapter 5 – Mystic Glow​

Watery Dungeons simultaneously fascinated and unnerved Owen. Due to his nature, they would be the last sort of Dungeon he’d want to explore. Not only would getting his tail doused be the most excruciating pain imaginable—aside from being impaled, he supposed—the terrain also made his Fire Traps useless. Calm Water Lake was no exception.

The lake—a clear, blue expanse surrounded by yellow-green grass—disappeared the moment they passed through the distortion’s bubble-like ripple. Blue, rocky walls made from amalgamated sand took its place, rough and perpetually damp to the touch. The ground was covered in a thin layer of water that went just past Owen’s tiny ankles.

This was a challenge for Gahi, who was even lower to the ground. He constantly tilted his massive, orange head upward to prevent his lower jaw from dipping underwater.

“Calm Water Lake is kinda boring.” Owen had his hands behind his head, staring at the wispy clouds. “Hey, do we have any warps left?”

“I do,” Demitri said. “Mispy used her Badge to get our group back, but mine still has a charge left for the day. Once we’re done exploring this Dungeon, we’ll head back to Kilo.”

“Yeah. I hope it goes by soon,” Owen said. “I’m sick of walking through water. Nothing’s happening.” He had been hoping to find a mysterious, pink mist to lead the way. Nothing of the sort was around.

“I mean, it’s called Calm Water Lake,” Demitri said. “Isn’t that kinda what you’d expect? Even its title is boring.”

“All of the Pokémon are asleep. They won’t even bother with you unless you aggravate them first. Where’s the fun in that?”

He shook his head. That was his Battleheart talking. That kind of comment would get weird looks from people… Half-feral, they’d say.

“I know what y’mean,” Gahi said. “I don’t wanna go ter this place either, ‘cause the ferals’re all weak.”

Demitri nervously punched his fists together. “All this teaching hasn’t given me a good fight the whole day.”

Mispy sighed deeply. Her leaf bobbed and brushed against Demitri’s tusk.

“You guys like to battle a bunch, too, huh?” It was rare for civilian Pokémon to fight the way he liked to.

Some Pokémon went their entire lives not evolving because their auras never became strong enough to trigger it. Most only trained enough to evolve and stopped after that.

That was just another layer of kinship he felt with these three. Fellow Battlehearts!

“I know what that’s like,” Owen continued. “If I don’t get a good fight in for the day, I can’t sleep at night. I’m all restless! And I need to fight something! My parents gave me a rock that I can beat up if I ever get like that. But if that isn’t enough, I need to meditate and stuff.”

“Baah.” Gahi shook his head. “Don’t even say the word. I hate when Rhys makes us do that.”

“It calms the mind, though.” Demitri rubbed his tusks, finding a little nick to scrape dirt off. “And we know it makes our attacks more efficient, so it isn’t all bad!”

“Tune the aura,” Mispy said.

“Ha, it’s like we get the same lectures!” Owen said. “I wonder if my parents and Rhys went to the same classes.”

“Feh, wouldn’t doubt it.” Gahi fell into a dip in the watery ground, struggling and gurgling.

Mispy shoved her vine into the gravel and a great platform of foliage pushed Gahi out of the puddle.

“Bah, stupid water… Say, how come we never saw yer parents, anyway? Figure they’d’ve supported you fer the Ceremony, at least.”

“I think they’re busy at home,” Owen said dismissively, though his tail dimmed. He held up a flame from his finger and flicked it Gahi’s way, the little mote drying him while they walked. “My parents have been hesitant about going out lately. I’m not sure why. I hope they aren’t afraid of the light or something.”

An entire segment of the Dungeon passed in complete silence. It didn’t feel awkward to Owen. It was serene. For perhaps the first time all day, his heart was at ease, traveling with these three like old friends. Without realizing it, a dumb, subtle smile grew on Owen’s face.

“Y’know, that thing y’mentioned,” Gahi suddenly said. “About us seeming familiar? I’m starting ter feel it, too.”

“Huh?”

Demitri tapped his claws against his scales. “Yeah, I’m with Gahi.”

“Mm.” Mispy nodded.

Owen stared. “Yeah… it’s weird. But I don’t know why, either. You guys?”

They all shook their head.

“I decided that I should just stop dwelling on it. Maybe we’ll figure it out later. Oh, right. Are we at…?” He pulled the mission statement from his bag, and then at his surroundings. They said section three.

“This way,” Mispy said, suddenly turning. She walked with purpose, but it didn’t appear to be in a meaningful direction.

“How come?” Owen ran after her.

“Mispy can see auras, too, just like Rhys,” Gahi said. “That’s why she thinks ghosts are everywhere. I think her senses are just outta whack.”

Mispy puffed her cheeks; a vine threatened to bludgeon Gahi, but she restrained herself and pulled back.

“A Chikorita? How?” Owen asked. “Does she secretly have aura sensors, too?” Owen knew that Gahi was fast for his species, too. Demitri was an Axew, and they were historically strong… but those strikes he dealt to Aerodactyl were something else. Did Rhys recruit them because they were talented?

“I dunno. Maybe it’s in her leaf,” Demitri said. “It’s cool. I don’t know how it works. But it’s helped us a lot when we chase down clever outlaws. And now, uh, Mispy? What d’you see?”

“Weird,” Mispy mumbled.

“She sees a weird aura,” Demitri translated. “I guess it’s a good lead for—oh. Uh, Mispy? I don’t think we need an aura sensor for the rest of this.”

To their right was an easily breakable wall. A dim light shined from the inside, going through the tiny cracks that made this part of the wall more obvious.

Owen nodded, readying his claws. “Just give me a second to reset my aura for Metal Cl—”

Demitri slammed his head on the wall; it easily collapsed, falling around him.

“Demitri!” Owen cried

“I’m okay!” Demitri called back, climbing out of the rocks; he had a few scratches—as well as a worrying trail of blood on his head—but he was conscious.

“Don’t do that!” Owen shouted.

Mispy was already healing him with waves of light. She didn’t look alarmed in the slightest.

“Next time, let me do it! Metal Claw would’ve done the same thing.”

“Feh, he’s an idiot.” Gahi wobbled ahead of them and over the rubble.

They all looked inside. The cavern beyond the false wall glowed dimly; it reminded Owen of the mushrooms in Hot Spot Cave. And, of course, the orb that Rhys possessed. The Charmander, with his tail, took the lead. The passageway was only a few paces wide—and those were tiny paces, considering the size of their bodies. Every sound echoed endlessly.

Not more than twenty paces in, Gahi remarked, “This place is giving me the creeps. Think Ghosts’re wandering around?”

Demitri shuddered. “H-hopefully not.” He looked at the walls uneasily. Mispy wrapped a vine around his torso, squeezing him. He loosened in response. “I don’t think so, but this weird glow is what I’m kinda worried about. It’s the same as the glow in Rhys’ place, y’know, that weird orb?”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “You mean that thing he brought with him to the ceremony, right?”

“Yeah, that one,” Demitri said. “Think it’s related?”

“Maybe,” Owen said, “but a lot of things glow. There are these mushrooms in my home, um, I can’t say where, but at my home, they glow kinda like this. So, it could just be, like, moss, or a tiny fungus or mold that grows on the rocks.” Owen wanted to believe it was related, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. The past few days have been filled with confusing disappointments.

Go back… go back!

Turn away… leave!

All four explorers stopped walking. Demitri’s knees knocked against one another. Gahi churred a rapid, growling noise. The little buds on Mispy’s neck started to glow.

Mispy closed her eyes. “I see… something.”

Owen noticed a pulsing light in the bottom corner of his eye. It came from his bag. “Uh, why is my Badge blinking?”

“What?” Demitri checked his; it, too, was blinking. “Oh, that’s… that means we just exited a Dungeon.”

“What?”

“We aren’t in a Dungeon anymore,” Demitri said. “This cave ahead of us isn’t part of Calm Water Lake’s Dungeon. Which means—” He glanced around uneasily. “—if we get hurt here, or worse, we won’t be warped out. They might just keep attacking us, or…!”

Owen gulped. “M-maybe we should go back.”

“What, and miss a real fight?” Gahi asked, stomping his tiny foot on the ground. “Let’s feel it out!”

“I do want a fight,” Demitri mumbled, unconsciously sharpening his left tusk with his claws. “But this could be dangerous.”

“Mmn.” Mispy seemed unsure, but she advanced. The others followed her lead.

Leave, leave!

Or become one of us!

Demitri let out a squeaking noise that defied his Dragon pride. Mispy had to prod him on the back to keep him walking.

“Okay, enough whispering!” Gahi said. “Just show yerself and get it over with!”

Surprisingly, they complied. Ahead of them, right where the glowing cave had a turn to the right, a creature rose from the ground. Houndour. But the colors were odd—instead of the usual orange-red on black, it was ocean-blue on black.

“Heh, Houndour, eh?” Gahi said, wobbling forward. “Y’look weird, but I’ll take yeh on!”

Owen’s fire grew. “Uh, Gahi, I dunno if—”

Gahi dashed in an orange blur, wiggling his head and jaws; mud formed in the back of his throat, ready to fling. The Houndour opened its mouth and fired a concentrated jet of—water directly at Gahi. The Trapinch chittered in surprise and jumped out of the way, hitting the wall next to him. While successful in avoiding the water, he sustained a small blow to his side from the rocks.

Gahi threw some of his mud at the Houndour; Mispy, whose buds were glowing bright, fired an intense beam at the Houndour next.

“Wait! Mispy!” Demitri said, but it was too late.

The Houndour was completely incinerated; in its place was a small ember that floated in the air. It vaguely resembled Owen’s tail flame, only cyan like Rhys’ aura energy. It fled into the wall.

“Mispy, that’s too much!” Demitri said. “You just obliterated some poor—”

“It’s a ghost,” Mispy said.

“What?”

Whispers filled the air. It was impossible to tell where it was coming from, or how many were even whispering. Multiple. That’s all they knew. And, perhaps, from everywhere.

“Why is there a Water Houndoom here? How does that even work? A gh-ghost that’s a Water Houndoom?” Owen squeaked the last part, taking a worried step back. He bumped into Demitri, who was practically a statue. Hauntings weren’t actually real, right? Sure, he’d suspected it before, but…

Three blue-themed Pokémon—even if they weren’t supposed to be blue—rose from the ground. A Nincada, Morelull, and Venipede, rippling like a lake. They all advanced, Watery techniques ready. Owen, realizing that there was too much risk involved, with perhaps tens or more others like them ready to close in, shouted to the others, “Let’s go back!”

This time, they agreed. Demitri grabbed their Badge and held it in the air; thankfully, now that they were outside of the strange effects of a Dungeon, they could use it to warp back to Kilo Village without the Dungeon interfering. Still, it needed a few seconds to gather its charge. The ghosts fired another set of water jets at them—Owen countered with a plume of fire, hoping to soften the blasts. Mispy shot her vines forward and blocked the rest. That bought them just enough time. In a flash of light, they were gone.

<><><>​

They wanted to tell Rhys about what they found before reporting back, but they also realized upon returning that it was close to the evening. Clouds painted the orange sky with lumpy, purple blotches.

“Oh, Mew, we almost didn’t make it!” Demitri said. “Look! That crowd!”

“Wait, so do we report first, or—”

“No time!” Demitri took heavy steps forward, his speed betraying his mental fatigue. “C’mon, Owen! You go ahead to the front! You’re probably gonna get accepted!”

The ceremony was a rush and then a wait. Owen took the long way around when the immediate path required traversing around a Muk, and instead settled for weaving between the legs of an antsy Rapidash mother waiting for her son’s results. He scrambled between Pokémon tall and small, apologizing to each one, until he spotted a Decidueye.

“There you are,” James said, green-and-brown feathers puffed out. Under his glare, Owen shrank to nearly three-quarters of his height. “I imagine you just became aware of the results. Stand there, please.”

Owen stood at the front row, to the far right, with his eyes fixed on the ground. After gathering enough courage, he leaned forward and counted off the Pokémon to his left. There were fifteen others here, but more importantly, they were all candidates that were practically beaming. He really did make it in! After countless applications—Owen couldn’t even remember how many times he’d tried—he was here, standing in the front row!

“Ahem,” James began, “Goodra Anam is currently occupied with… processing the Hearts’ retirement. In his place, I would like to make official the advancement of these sixteen Provisionary Hearts into the fold of Entry-Level Hearts. To commemorate this, they will relinquish their Provisionary Badges, and in return be given their official Thousand Hearts Badge. I shall begin from the leftmost member.” James walked away from Owen. His tail lowered at the realization that he was the last to arrive. Talk about a first impression.

Owen took the wait as an opportunity to size up the other fifteen members. Nervous shuffling, eyes filled with more ambition than their bodies could handle. They were all weaker than him but just as full of potential. He could feel it. What was he doing, taking so long to just enter, if he was already breezing past the easiest Dungeons? Owen refused to accept anything but the idea that it was a mistake—an oversight.

The gravity of the ceremony hit him just then. He was going to do it! Become a Heart! One by one, each new Heart got their Badge. Once James got to him…

“Waaaaaiiiiit!”

All eyes turned to the main building. Anam was running out as fast as he could. A trail of purplish, transparent slime littered the ground behind him.

“Am I late?!”

“Yes,” James replied. “I have already started the ceremony. There is only one left.”

“Who? I’ll—I’ll do that one!” He sniffled. “I’m sorry, Jam-Jam! I didn’t mean to, but I was just so sad! So many good Hearts!”

James sighed, shaking his head, while the audience gave amused smiles. “Very well,” Jam-Jam said, holding out the final badge. “I can’t be angry at you, Anam. Please, give Owen his Badge.”

“Owen? Oh, right, Owen! Of course! I’m so happy Owen could get in this time!”

James’ glare was so intense that, for a second, Owen thought Anam’s slime bubbled.

Owen’s heart skipped a beat, and his flame flashed white for an instant. He was about to be given his Badge by Anam himself.

The others in line noticed, too. They all stared at Owen with mixtures of surprise, confusion, and envy. What’s this upstart doing here? That was probably what they were thinking. He was the only first-stager among them. Or maybe they were irritated that lateness was suddenly being rewarded.

Goodra sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Owen—I mean, Charmander Owen, I give you this Badge in commemoration of your advancement into the Thousand Hearts.” He handed Owen the lightweight, golden emblem. It was covered in slime; Owen politely took it and, when Anam turned away, wiped it with the cloth of his bag. He then admired the clean, heart-shaped insignia on the front, using his tail to illuminate the shining details.

“And now,” James concluded, “we must accept you into the Thousand Hearts more formally. I’m sure you all remember the motto?”

Owen’s flame doubled its size. “Yes!” A few of the newcomers gave him an amused smile, but they nodded, too. Suddenly, the atmosphere felt charged.

“Then by my lead.” James looked ahead. With him, the Entry Hearts—and even the many behind him—recited the Thousand Hearts’ mantra. At first, it was a gentle chant, but the final lines transitioned into a rallying cry.

“A thousand hands
A single heart
Working and beating as one.

Unite the lands
From worlds apart
Until our battles are done.

We serve Kilo and all its parts
Under one name: The Thousand Hearts!”

Stomps, roars, and cheers deafened Owen, but he didn’t care—his flame was now three times its normal size and his chest felt just as swollen with pride. He screamed with them, straining his throat, blasting little embers into the air. Losing all sense of self, Owen hopped from foot to foot, pumping his tiny fist in the air.

After some time, the crowd calmed down, and James raised his wing to signal for them all to fall into silence. There was a little, happy gleam in his eye, but that was all he showed. “This concludes the ceremony of advancement. You are all dismissed.”

His heart was still racing, but on his way down, even with the immovable grin on his face, the pressing issue of what they found in the lake returned to the forefront of his mind. After backtracking through the evening crowd, he spotted the silhouette of Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi in the twilight.

Demitri had a similar smile. “Okay, I can’t deny that yelling that last part is something I never get tired of.”

“I know, right?!” Owen said, beaming. “Oh! But—where’s Rhys? We should talk to him about what we found first, right? And then we can report it later. Then, I’m gonna go back to my parents’ place and tell them about what happened.” He glanced at the Waypoint lines and saw a Torkoal enter Calm Water Lake. “Uh—"

“There.” Mispy pointed her leaf forward. Rhys was walking toward them from the main building.

“Where have you been?” Rhys asked. His voice sounded suspiciously strained. He cleared his throat to get it to sound normal again, but it was no help. “The entire ceremony was nearly delayed to find Owen.”

“We were doing a quick mission,” Gahi said. “How ‘bout we talk about it over dinner? I’m starved. Owen’s coming with!”

Owen’s stomach growled loudly at the mention of food. Rhys, with a conflicted frown, conceded.

<><><>​

Dinner was a savory rice dish, fried and mixed with vegetables, mushrooms, and a savory sauce. While the food was wonderful, mealtime itself felt tense. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi seemed antsy from not getting a good fight in—and, after getting one, being forced to flee.

Rhys—his voice recovered—finally broke the silence. “Well, now that you’re here, why don’t you speak about that mission of yours? Did it not go well?”

“No,” Gahi mumbled. “Hated it. Nearly got killed.”

“K-killed?”

Demitri nodded, poking at a stray grain of rice. “We were attacked when we were investigating a glow at Calm Water Lake. But that led us outside the Dungeon early, somehow, even though we were still in the middle of it. We got attacked by a weird… water-typed Houndour, or something.”

Rhys scanned the four of them as if expecting them to say it was a joke. When none came, he said, “I see.”

Silence accompanied the five while they ate.

“That’s it?” Gahi asked. “Y’usually have something ter say ‘bout us being reckless, or maybe some theory on why it’s like that.”

“I do? Well. I don’t this time. I’ll speak to Goodra Anam about it tomorrow.”

Owen looked at the others expectantly. He wanted to ask about the orb again, but after that encounter in the lake, he was too jittery to do it alone. He’d stumble over his words. And what was he going to do? Sneak into Rhys’ room and steal it? That’d just make him an outlaw! There was no point. He could ask politely when there was less tension. He didn’t see that pink cloud this time, anyway.

“Um. Well, if that’s all, when I finish dinner, I think I’ll just head home,” he said. “Thanks, by the way! I-it’s really good.”

“No,” Rhys said. “Just for tonight, I want you to stay here. I will explain to your parents about it later.”

The Charmander reflexively nodded, but then the words registered. Owen felt even more trapped than when they were in that glowing cave. “Y-you? But I can’t, um, they don’t know.” Owen looked like he was going to stand up. “They’ll freak out if I don’t get home by nighttime, and it’s almost that already! So, um, I just… I can’t just stay here without telling them.”

“They will understand.”

“Rhys, yer being weird,” Gahi said. “What’s going on?”

“It’s too dangerous to go out,” Rhys said flatly. “The path to your home, Owen, is dangerous tonight. It will be safer tomorrow. Not tonight.”

“B-but—” Owen couldn’t ignore that serious aura Rhys had. Would leaving, now, be that dangerous? Or was it bad for some other reason? He didn’t sense any malice from Rhys, but to suddenly make such a request…

“This is final,” Rhys said. “I’m sure they will just think you need to do overnight training and orientation.”

Owen looked at Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi, but they were equally confused. Rhys wasn’t explaining anything. But, in the back of his mind, Owen trusted what he was saying. He didn’t know why he trusted Rhys, but his gut feelings hadn’t been wrong before. If Rhys said it was dangerous, then it was. “Okay. But can you explain why it’s so dangerous?”

Rhys looked at his rice and ate. The others ate, too, in a silence so thick that Owen felt he was eating some of it with each bite.

“We are all going to need to be careful for a time,” Rhys said. “There may be Pokémon in search of objects like the one in my room. Anything that gives off that glow may be a target, and I don’t want to risk anything right now. Owen, I’m afraid you are also a target.”

Owen thought about Hot Spot Cave.

Demitri swallowed his most recent bite quickly. “S-so, Calm Water Lake might have another of those orb things?”

“Possibly. But we can’t do anything about it today.” Rhys motioned to the black sky outside the cave, a chilling wind knocking a few ripened Oran Berries from the treetops. “We can explore this further tomorrow after I see Goodra Anam. He may be able to help.”

Owen sighed, figuring that was the most they were going to get.

“You will stay in Gahi’s room,” Rhys said. “Demitri and Mispy share a room. We have an extra bed in storage.”

“Oh! That’s convenient.”

“Yeah, I kinda always wondered why we had that,” Gahi said. “Ain’t like we get guests.”

Owen finished his meal; despite the tension, he was satisfied with even the leftover grains of rice and veggies. “Aah, that was good.” He rubbed at an imperfection in his scales. “I, er, I guess I’ll get familiar with—oh! I don’t think I can sleep in your bed, though.” Owen tittered. “See, my tail flame kinda burns most beds. I know Charmander fire isn’t usually that hot when we’re calm, but I get worked up when I sleep, or something, so…”

“There’s no need to worry,” Rhys said. “They’re made from Rawst leaves, so they are flame-resistant.”

“Oh.” Owen nodded. “That’s…”

He fiddled with his claws. At this point, he was sick of inquiring.

Rhys set up the spare bed; Gahi led the way down the hall, past the first pair of rooms, and into the left of the second set.

“Here’s m’place,” Gahi said.

It didn’t look different from the others; a simple, rocky room with two nests in the middle. Well, one wasn’t a bed so much as a… sandy pit in the ground. Owen ran his hand across the other nest of Rawst leaves. It was familiar, and that made him uncomfortable.

He forced enthusiasm and happily hopped on his bed. “I hope my tail doesn’t bother you at night.”

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll notice.” He shook his entire body, vibrating into the sandy pit, and he was gone.

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure what he had expected. He wondered if Gahi would chomp on anything he dropped inside…

Every so often, Owen heard the muffled clicks of Gahi’s massive jaws. He sighed, closing his eyes. Something about that sound relaxed him, but it also kept him up for a while longer than he was used to. Every so often, Gahi’s sleep-churring startled him awake.

<><><>​

Owen was half asleep, somewhere between dream and reality. Something ethereal reached out.

Owen. Owen? Owen! Hello?!

That’s a pretty voice…

Owen! Wake up!

Five more blinks…

Ugh, stupid, flaming scale-bag—wake up! HURRY!

It felt too real and too normal. Too groggy. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, squinting outside their room. Something was glowing. That same, strange glow. But it wasn’t like that last time. The old glow was softer and constant. This one was wider; it spilled into Gahi’s room. Owen blinked again; the light was getting brighter. Owen hid his tail under the leaves to make sure it wasn’t him. Without the flame, it was clear as day—that light was moving. Was it the cloud again?

So, this is my night, huh? Owen thought.

The blur from his eyes faded. He spotted something in the corner of his eye. He immediately turned, his heart skipping a beat. The mist. It was right there, like a trick of the eye—just barely visible. Owen thought it was just a splotch on his pupil. It didn’t say anything, but it was very anxiously moving toward the hall, then back to Owen, and then back to the hall again.

Why me? Owen thought. He slowly got out of bed and wrapped some leaves around his flame. Still holding his tail, he stepped outside. The source of the light was a Pokémon floating in the air. A small one—an Espurr. Floating. High in the air.

She didn’t notice Owen; she was facing into Rhys’ room, moving inside.

Trespasser! He was a Heart now!

“Um—hey!” Against common sense, Owen shouted. “S-stop!”

His legs moved on their own until he was at the entrance to Rhys’ home. There, the Espurr drifted toward the orb—she was about to touch it. “Y-you aren’t supposed to—!” He saw that Rhys was still asleep. The pink mist followed. It pushed futilely against the Espurr, defending the orb to no effect.

Then, the Espurr and Charmander locked eyes. He couldn’t get a read for her expression, but she didn’t maintain eye contact for long. He only knew that her eyes shined more than anything else. The atmosphere around him changed—he recognized this feeling. It was an incoming Psychic attack, just like Nevren. He jumped out of the way just in time to evade the twisting energy that chopped the wind behind where he had been. The power behind it was incredible—yet Owen had a sinking feeling she could do a lot more.

The Espurr readied another strike, but a ball of bright, blue energy hit her on the side instead. She yelped and fumbled in the air. Rhys was awake, sitting up in his bed of leaves; he stared directly at the Espurr, who squeaked even louder at the glare. And then, she vanished in thin air—as if she wasn’t there to begin with.

“Wh-what… what?” Owen breathed.

Rhys stood up. The silence that followed—with Rhys staring at the pink mist, and then at Owen, and then at the orb—was long enough for Owen to absorb what had just happened. Some Espurr with the same sort of glow as the orb tried to steal it, or something.

“You should get to sleep, Owen.”

“Wait, but what—”

“Sleep.” Rhys held his right paw in Owen’s direction. It glowed an eerie white. Rhys fired, and Owen felt a hot buzz course through him. His vision concentrated into a tunnel and then faded to black. Owen’s consciousness quickly followed.

So. You’re asleep again.

Hello, pretty voice…

Owen. Listen. This is super, ultra-important. The orb. Touch. ASAP.

But Rhys said…

And sometimes, Rhys is an idiot. We’re running out of options and time. Just touch it, okay?

I’m so tired…

S-stay with me, Owen. There are lots of bad ‘mon out there trying to get those things, and the more we . . .

The rest was lost.

 

[canisaries]

“Calm Water Lake is kinda boring,”

Well with a riveting name like that, what would you expe-

“I mean, it’s called Calm Water Lake,” Demitri said. “Isn’t that kinda what you’d expect? Even its title is boring.”

O.O

Not only would getting his tail doused be perhaps the most excruciating pain imaginable, aside from being impaled, the terrain also made his Fire Traps useless.

I know dashes were used right in the following paragraph, but I think this sentence could use them too, instead of those commas. I just feel like they'd make it a bit easier to read.

“A Chikorita? How?” Owen asked. “Does she secretly have aura sensors, too?”

“I dunno. Maybe it’s in her leaf,” Demitri said. “It’s pretty cool. I don’t know how it works. But it’s helped us a lot when we have to chase down clever outlaws. And now, uh, Mispy? What d’you see?”

Hmm, a Chikorita with aura powers, water-type ghosts, that one body horror thing you mentioned for Owen in a chat once... mayhaps there be a theme here... *thinking emoji*

There was a wall ahead, to their right, that looked like it was easy to break. A dim light shined from the inside, going through the tiny cracks that made this part of the wall more obvious.

guys! you need to use a bomb on it!

Surprisingly, they complied. Ahead of them, right where the glowing cave had a turn to the right, a creature rose from the ground. It had pointed ears and a body that was mostly black, with white bands around the wrists of its paws. Houndour. But the colors were a bit odd—instead of the usual orange-red on black, it was ocean-blue on black.

Oh gods, it's a sparkledog OC! Run! i'm allowed to make this joke because i used to have a sparkledog OC with those colors too

Clouds painted the orange canvas with lumpy, purple blotches.

This is a really nice line.

Silence while they ate.

I think this sentence is missing a verb?

“Oh! Oh, wow!” Owen nodded. “That’s kinda… really convenient, but I guess I’ll take it!” He fiddled with his claws. At this point, he was sick of inquiring.

*THINKING EMOJI INTENSIFIES*

“Here’s m’place,” Gahi said.

You already know what I'm gonna say.

*tips fedora*

Owen. Owen? Owen! Hello?!

That’s a pretty voice…

Hmm, well, you need to make sure you only write one line per speaker in this format, then. Otherwise it's gonna get very hard to follow. This here right now isn't the easiest, either, but it's not like I have a better idea on how to show speaker changing in these.

I'm beginning to really like Mispy. She's quiet, but not mute or too scared to react. She feels like a real "quiet person" rather than just a trope.

Not much smart stuff from me this time, I'm afraid. My brain is totally blanking out. Well, see you later.

 

[Ambyssin]

Dungeon banter is fine and everything... except for that one part about Owen itching for a fight. Like, I understand that pokémon battle, but in a world without trainers, I do think that you need to have an explanation for why it happens other than "I get antsy if I don't get in a fight." So, uh, I hope you have a reasonable explanation for that coming eventually. I'm sure not everyone's bothered by it, but I always need to point it out when I see it. Likewise, that the only weird blue 'mon that gets described in full detail is Houndour... while the rest are just named. And then Espurr is described later. That goes back to that inconsistency thing I mentioned earlier. If Owen can recognize Houndours you only need to draw attention to the fact that it's blue. It'd save you some lines of text, to boot.

Too bad that little ambush didn't last long enough for me to get much of an impression as to what was going on with all the spoopy blueness. My best guess is this mysterious orb is, like, a Water Orb that embues the environment around it with the essence of water or something. And it effected all the spirits in turn. Something like that. It doesn't help how hush-hush everything is afterwards, from Anam to Rhys. If you wanted to sell me on the world have a conspiracy of sorts, then you're doing a good job with it. One question that came to mind with this, though, is why Owen's parents wouldn't be there for the testing and (if he passed, which he did) ceremony. I know they were against him trying to join, but you'd think that, if they were trying to keep up the facade that everything's fine, they'd show up and be supportive. Kinda wish we had an in-universe explanation for why they're so MIA, especially with Rhys keeping Owen from returning home.

Welp, looks like my original thought about him getting hold of Rhys' orb is true and Rhys, buddy, you're not doing yourself any favors casting Sleep on Owen like that. Perhaps he is good and just going to drastic measures to defend this orb thingy. It sounds more like he's got a problem with not knowing the full extent of this crazy thing he's protecting. Also, the orb's voice doesn't leave a lot of room for confidence. Usually you expect your spiritual guides to have a measure of professionalism in the way they carry themselves. Clearly not the case here, lol!

And now, to end off, some snark...

aside from being impaled

Not even being subtle about it, I see. :V

“Calm Water Lake is kinda boring,” Owen said.

"I'm sorry, Owen. Tomorrow, we can go to 'Slightly Unnerving Water Lake' or 'Deeply Unsettling Water Lake' if you want!"
Also, like, wow is that an incredibly lame dungeon name. Someone ought to fire the Association's namer person. Don't they realize how redundant "Water Lake" is? I sure hope there are Lava Lake, Sand Lake, and Jell-O Lake dungeons to make up for this travesty.

“Oh.” Owen wasn’t sure what he had expected.

Owen did a meme, I see.

 

[namohysip]

Thanks for the feedback! Seems you guys are suspicious of basically everyone except the quartet!

Hmm, well, you need to make sure you only write one line per speaker in this format, then. Otherwise it's gonna get very hard to follow.

Yeah, it's a little unclear who's talking at first, now that I look at it again. I might drop a single line at the start to make sure it's clear Owen's half-awake.

I'm beginning to really like Mispy. She's quiet, but not mute or too scared to react. She feels like a real "quiet person" rather than just a trope.

I'm glad! I'm not sure how to describe it, but Mispy is someone who speaks rarely, but when she speaks, her words hold volume. Less is more. She's also a little weird, but hey, beware the quiet ones.

Dungeon banter is fine and everything... except for that one part about Owen itching for a fight. Like, I understand that pokémon battle, but in a world without trainers, I do think that you need to have an explanation for why it happens other than "I get antsy if I don't get in a fight." So, uh, I hope you have a reasonable explanation for that coming eventually.

Like I mentioned to you in private, thanks for pointing this out. This was actually intended to be out of place. I didn't realize until recently that "Pokemon like to fight" is a common trope in PMD fics in particular. In this setting, it's not normal to need to fight--hence why Owen, even if he's just an abnormally strong Charmander, was able to get into what's effectively the top 1000 of the world's justice league. His "battle heart"--and by extension, the battle heart of all of Team Alloy--is not the norm. I'll add a line to make this explicit.

Likewise, that the only weird blue 'mon that gets described in full detail is Houndour... while the rest are just named. And then Espurr is described later. That goes back to that inconsistency thing I mentioned earlier

Ahh, yeah. I figure it'd be easier to just say a blue Houndour, focusing on the blue aspect (and specific enough that it's not a shiny Houndour, since, upon looking it up, turns out they're blue, but on the black part.)

If you wanted to sell me on the world have a conspiracy of sorts, then you're doing a good job with it.

Just you wait.

One question that came to mind with this, though, is why Owen's parents wouldn't be there for the testing and (if he passed, which he did) ceremony. I know they were against him trying to join, but you'd think that, if they were trying to keep up the facade that everything's fine, they'd show up and be supportive. Kinda wish we had an in-universe explanation for why they're so MIA, especially with Rhys keeping Owen from returning home.

That's sorta a good point. I feel like that's something they'd bring up, too. The in-universe explanation will be expanded upon in a few chapters from now, but that doesn't excuse the fact that Gahi and co. would ask Owen about it. I can probably slip it in with the Dungeon banter.

Rhys, buddy, you're not doing yourself any favors casting Sleep on Owen like that.

Rhys is a good boy, what are you talking about~?

Also, the orb's voice doesn't leave a lot of room for confidence. Usually you expect your spiritual guides to have a measure of professionalism in the way they carry themselves.

Spirit guide, huh? Poor Owen. Between the strange dreams, bloodlust, and now hearing voices in his head, if this keeps up, he'll wind up in an institution.

I sure hope there are Lava Lake, Sand Lake, and Jell-O Lake dungeons to make up for this travesty.

One of this is actually coming, though it's not explicitly named as such.

Owen did a meme, I see.

Darn, thought that'd slip through unnoticed.

_____

Well! It feels like if I post the next chapter tomorrow/Sunday, it'll be a little too fast. I might wait until Monday, perhaps? Not sure. I'll feel it out. And don't worry, @canisaries even if you feel you don't have anything "smart" to add, what you say is still valuable, and I appreciate every comment for the ideas I can deduce from all forms of feedback.

 

[namohysip]

Chapter 6 – The Orb​

“Ugh, what a weird dream,” Owen mumbled. He rubbed his eyes; he still ached. He must have jumped improperly to avoid that Psychic attack and bruised himself.

Wait. If he ached, then that wasn’t a dream, was it?

Owen chanted to himself, “Not crazy. Not crazy. Not crazy.”

“Eh?” Gahi said, peeking out from his sand pit. “What’re yeh mumblin’?”

“N-nothing,” Owen said. “I think I just had a weird dream. That’s all.”

“Well, have ‘em some other night,” Gahi said. The Trapinch clicked his jaws. “…I don’t smell breakfast.”

“Does Rhys usually make it? Wait, you can smell? Where’s your nose?”

“How should I know?”

Owen squinted. “…Let’s just check the kitchen.”

The kitchen had food on the table—a simple fruit salad, cold and not as easy to smell—and a note from Rhys saying that he had gone to speak with Anam, and to stay at home until he returned.

“Wait!” Owen said. “That’s right! There was an Espurr that was trying to take the orb last night! I remember!”

“Eh?”

“What’s going on?” Demitri rubbed his eyes as he wobbled out of his room with Mispy. For some reason, he seemed sore. “Are you talking about last night? I think I had a dream of Rhys whisper-yelling. He sounded angry.”

Owen nodded incessantly. “Last night, while you guys were asleep, I think I woke up and saw a weird Pokémon enter Rhys’ room. She tried to, like, get the glowing orb while Rhys was asleep!”

“Did she?”

“No, but she nearly twisted me to shreds with a crazy-strong Psychic attack. I think it was even stronger than Nevren’s!”

“How d’you know how strong Nevren’s is?”

“Oh, um—” Owen rubbed the back of his head. “Uhh… I read about it?”

“Wait, hang on,” Demitri said. “An Espurr? That isn’t even fully evolved. Why is it so strong?”

“The weird thing about that is that she kinda glowed, too. The same way the orb did, and the cave did.” And the mushrooms did…

A sudden silence filled the kitchen. Realization washed over them.

“He left the orb alone!” Owen said. “Right? Did he?”

Forgetting about breakfast, the quartet rushed into Rhys’ room. It was the first time Owen had a good look at it in the sunlight that bled into the shallow cave. There was a simple bed of leaves to the left corner of the room and a solid stone desk to the right. A strange stash of Pecha Berries was piled under the desk. Owen saw a small piece of parchment lodged inside the pile of berries in the shape of a heart. At first, Owen thought it was from Anam and his saccharine taste in themed shapes, but somehow, that didn’t feel correct.

Artifacts ranging from shiny to dusty lined three shelves in a half-circle around the room. Owen only recognized a few of them: an Everstone in the far right, which Owen subconsciously inched away from; something that looked like a prototype Badge, lumpy and bronze; something that looked like one of Nevren’s zany inventions, some metallic bracelet; and what looked like an old, faded edition of the Book of Mew.

The final item gave Owen pause. “Huh. Didn’t peg Rhys as a Mew sort of person,” he mumbled under his breath. “Seemed more like the Arceus type.” His eyes continued to trail along the other books lining the shelves. There was even a book that didn’t seem to have text on it at all. His gaze lingered on that book for a while before something else caught his eye.

And there it was, that pale green orb. Perhaps Rhys had forgotten about the orb in his rush to see Anam. For whatever reason, the orb was there, its glow significantly fainter against the morning sun peering through the cave’s entrance.

Owen squinted, suspicious. Rhys wasn’t the sort to be careless. Demitri mentioned an argument, perhaps after he had been put to sleep. Arguing with who? The mist? The orb itself? Maybe Owen wasn’t the only crazy one.

That voice—was it the mist?—told Owen to touch the orb. But should he listen to that mist or Rhys?

And sometimes, Rhys is an idiot, Owen recalled. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi wandered the room, looking for a way up. Mispy’s vines were too short to reach on their own, and it was hard to pick someone like her up to begin with. She always did seem heavier than the average Chikorita—though, Owen had a feeling if he said that aloud, he’d face the wrath of her Solar Beam.

“But it’s still so high…” Demitri lamented.

Vines wrapped around his abdomen.

“N-no way! I can’t do it!” Demitri’s legs were already shaking uncontrollably.

Gahi chittered in disapproval. “Aw, c’mon, it’s barely that high.”

“I just can’t do it.” Demitri shook his head, little feet trembling in the air. “I—I mean, it’s… it’s just too high up!”

Mispy eyed Owen, sizing him up.

“What?” the Charmander asked.

Mispy brought two vines forward, wrapping around him.

“U-uhh—yes?”

Mispy lifted Owen. “Hmm. Half.” She glanced at Demitri. She had a much easier time lifting Owen in the air.

“Well, ain’t that something,” Gahi said. “Owen, y’were the piece we needed, eh? Okay. Let’s go an’ lift ‘im!”

Mispy nodded, but then nodded at Demitri. He went up to the wall and held his tiny arms against it; Gahi got behind Mispy and pushed his head beneath her. Using Gahi’s front as a platform, she climbed onto Demitri’s back, awkwardly maneuvering until her chest and forelegs wrapped around his head.

“W-w-wait!” Owen said. “Wait! What are we doing? M-move slower!” Was this it? He didn’t expect his wish to touch the sphere would be granted in this way. He had been mapping the room in his head, looking for shelves to hop and Rhys’ various knickknacks and books to use as footholds. Owen normally wouldn’t disrespect a book by using it as a stepping stone, but it could have been a necessary evil.

“We’re gonna grab that orb and take a look at it!” Gahi declared.

“O-oh, okay. But—but it wasn’t my idea, okay?! I need to make a good first impression with Rhys, and I don’t want him thinking I’m some—some delinquent!”

Gahi grumbled, “With vocab like that, I ain’t gonna feel too worried ‘bout that.”

“And with a vocabulary like yours,” Demitri said, “Rhys will probably think it was your idea.”

Owen hoped that his parents wouldn’t be upset if they found out. But then again—they didn’t even show up for his acceptance of the Heart position! Maybe a little rebellion was warranted. Yeah, that was a good excuse.

Up close, the orb seemed bigger—he wouldn’t be able to hold it with just one of his tiny hands. He saw what looked like a clump of grass swaying in the wind inside it. He’d need to grab it by both sides; it was almost half the size of his head. He saw little, flowing lights swirling around the grass.

“Just a little more, Mispy!” Owen called down. “I can get it!”

Mispy obliged, straining her vines. “Almost?!”

“Almost… got it…!” Owen took a break to let Mispy drift him closer, relaxing his arms. Then, he reached out one last time, feeling that Mispy was at her limit. He knew it, now—he could grab the orb! Owen reached out. “Okay, I—” Contact.

A blue light pulsed from his arms all through his scales, shining out of the ridges. Owen felt like a vapor, then suddenly oppressively solid, like he’d never properly had flesh and blood until just that moment.

And now, it was being taken away.

“O-Owen? Is it heavy?” Demitri called.

Owen felt himself falling into the orb. When he turned around, he saw his own body, glassy-eyed and emotionless.

The Charmander’s tail went out.

<><><>​

“Hrrmmnnn, what a mess,” Rhys muttered, walking through town at a brisk pace. His bag hung around his shoulder, the bottom bumping against the spike on his chest. He glanced down inside; he had a few items, along with a cloth wrapped around a large sphere, glowing faintly. He scanned the immediate area. Business as usual for most of the Hearts in Kilo Village. Missions, missions, and more missions. He spotted an Aerodactyl grumbling while posting papers on the bulletin board.

“Ahh, Rhys!” Nevren called.

The fur on Rhys’ body bristled. He walked without acknowledging the Alakazam.

“Now, Rhys, that’s no way to greet me,” Nevren said, following Rhys without moving his legs. “What are you doing here? You don’t often come to Kilo Village unless there is a ceremony.” He looked at the bag. “…It’s not exactly a good idea,” he said, “to be carrying that around right now, don’t you think?”

“I will take my chances.”

“Are you sure?” Nevren tilted his head. “Rim might try to take it from you in broad daylight. Do not think a crowd will discourage her. The Hunters have been getting antsy.”

“And what will she do if she sees me? Glare at my feet?”

“Now, Rhys, that was uncalled for.”

Rhys clutched at the bag. “…She entered our home yesterday.”

“…Ah.”

“I do not want her to endanger my students,” he said. “I would rather take it with me while speaking with Anam.”

“Hrm.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Rhys made a motion to walk past Nevren, hesitating briefly, knowing that Nevren would say something. Yet, when he didn’t, he continued past him.

Nevren watched Rhys walk. “Has Elder talked with you about any of this?”

Rhys hesitated, looking down at his bag. “Of course we talk.”

Silence.

“…Where are you going, anyway?” Rhys said, looking back.

“Ah, well. I was sent on a mission to where Owen had gone the day prior. I need to take care of one of the mutant sightings there before anybody else gets hurt; it was already designated as a restricted zone until further notice. I plan to give that further notice.”

“Ah.” Rhys hummed, glancing down at his bag, and then at Nevren. “Will you need help?”

“Not at all. This will be trivial. Carry on with your duties so you may return home with that Orb, yes?”

“Mrm. Very well.” Rhys continued up the stairs toward the gaudy red building.

The entryway, past the main, heart-shaped exterior, was a building of stone and wood, painted in various shades of pink, red, and purple. Pathways on the ground were painted in a dark violet to indicate which way to go in the main lobby; the walls were a soft, invigorating red, with white stripes separating the red from the purple and other colors. The ceiling was pink, and the upper half of the walls shared the same color. They were all solid colors with no real pattern, except for some floral designs lining where the colors changed.

The color scheme disgusted Rhys, but he didn’t have the heart to berate Anam for his taste in décor.

To Rhys’ left was a stairway into the in-house dorms, where Hearts that preferred to live directly inside Kilo Village slept. To the right was where official business took place, such as meetings, private assemblies, and administrative work. Rhys entered the right stairway.

A Decidueye emerged from the floor in a black mist.

“Rhys,” James said. “Is this about the recent sighting?”

“Calm Water Lake? Somewhat. Where is Anam?”

“He is in his quarters.” He motioned behind him with a wing. “I will see you there.” He sank into the ground again.

Goodra Anam’s quarters were at the very edge of the building, at the back of the Heart. The Heart of Hearts himself stared at a large map of the world on the front wall, above the entryway. Due to Anam’s size, it wasn’t easy to see the rest of his room. However, the gentle, strange, sweet smell associated with the Goodra permeated the atmosphere. It was like he bathed in Pecha juice.

“Oh, hi, Rhys!” Anam said, waving. “I was just looking at the map.”

Rhys entered and inspected the map with Anam. The map was ancient and hand-drawn. Much better copies existed of the world, but this was Anam’s copy. The original copy, apparently, complete with dried slime and illegible scribbles in the empty spaces. Kilo Village, and by extension Kilo Mountain, was at the center of this map, displaying a largely circular landmass.

“…Calm Water Lake,” Rhys said, pointing to the northeastern river that fed into the reservoir. “We always suspected an orb would be hidden there. But we didn’t find one, last we checked.”

“We assumed it was a false lead,” James said. “Previous signs lasted only for a short while, after all. But it happened again, and this time we have actual witnesses to prove it.”

“Not good.” Rhys sighed. “They might be taken by the Hunters… But perhaps we should also investigate.”

“There were sightings of a Torkoal entering the lake,” James said. “I assume you know him, Rhys?”

Rhys looked away from the map and toward the ground. “Yes, I’m sure that Elder attempted to speak with whoever held the orb. Anam… I wanted to tell you some extra information.” He paused to make sure he had their attention. “It is likely the Water Orb—my students explored it, unannounced.”

“W-wait, your students?” Anam said. “You mean… all four of them… together? Wouldn’t that spook the Guardian?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “They are fine. Owen is, too. The Water Guardian may not have realized anything, thanks to their current state.”

James’ feathers puffed out considerably. “Those four are not supposed to be together, ever, Rhys.”

“I understand,” Rhys said, “but a… series of circumstances caused them to be together, recently. But that will be the end of it. Once I get home”—Rhys let out a defeated sigh—"I will… set things right. Owen will return home. The rest of Team Alloy will forget him again. He will train and meditate, and… things will remain as they have always been.”

“…You’re lying,” Anam said, nibbling on his slimy fingers. The feelers on his head twitched uncomfortably.

“Ngh.” Rhys’ head went lower. “Anam, don’t start talking about any silly ‘dark emotions’ you may feel from me. I get enough of that from Owen’s Perceive.”

“S-sorry,” Anam said, looking down. “But… it was just so obvious.”

“We can’t allow this,” James said. “I understand your feelings on the matter, Rhys. But it’s still too dangerous. Perhaps later. But not now.”

“It has been that way for quite a while, hasn’t it? Perhaps later. Perhaps later…” Rhys smiled bitterly at James. “That is all I wanted to say. Thank you, Anam. Be careful.”

“Rhys…” Anam sniffed. “I… I don’t want you to be upset!” He wiped gooey tears from his face. “Can I do anything to help?!”

Rhys closed his eyes. “Anam. A long time ago, you told me that you saw great potential in the bond that my students shared. If they could train their spirits to overcome their… weaknesses… they could perhaps tip this teetering scale in our favor. But to you, Anam,” he said, turning around, “what is that favor? What then, if we win?”

“F-favor…?”

Rhys crossed his arms. “How do you plan to use my students, Anam?”

“I… I just, um…” Anam hesitated. “I don’t know. But together, they’re really, really strong.”

“I see,” Rhys said. His eyes were closed again. “Anam.” He stared at Anam, right in his glistening, green eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that you don’t know what to do with that power. But the world will not wait for your decision. And neither will they.”

“What?” Anam asked. “What’s that mean? Rhys…?”

The Elite Heart said nothing else and turned to exit. James, glaring from behind, assured Anam that Rhys was merely upset at his circumstances, and he just had to blow off some steam. While this was normally true, James sounded worried.

Rhys’ ears twitched. He overheard their fading conversation.

“Anam,” James said, “is he not always like this when he has that tone?”

“This time… he feels different.” Anam sniffled. “He’s telling the truth… b-but what’s that mean? I dunno… I dunno…”

<><><>​

“Goodness. You’re an angry one.”

Nevren tilted his head to the right and stepped away, narrowly dodging a brutal swing from the muscular Snorlax mutant. In the close quarters of the wooden Dungeon labyrinth, it wasn’t the easiest maneuver, but it seemed like Nevren knew exactly where to move before the strikes even began. The air that followed made the Alakazam’s mustache dance with the flow. The strange creature made another brutal swing, trying to punch him in the torso next, but Nevren vanished in thin air.

The Snorlax stared at his hand, squeezing his claws dumbly.

“So unhinged. Is there even any reason within you?” Nevren asked. The question was rhetorical. He floated just above Snorlax’s shoulders. He tapped a spoon on the behemoth’s head, squinting at some invisible spot on his skull. “Yes, very disturbed. There may not be any coming back from this one. You’re simply too berserk.”

Snorlax roared and swung behind him; Nevren hopped on air, easily avoiding his arm, and then formed a small ball of light in his hands.

“It’s a shame. I don’t know how to dispatch someone like you most of the time. You’re a danger to all life, you know. Yes, a true shame…”

Snorlax opened his mouth, orange energy concentrating at the back of his throat. The sphere emerged, aimed at Nevren.

“Ah. Hyper Beam. I should have—”

The blast cut through the ground and into the forest behind him; trees splintered near the top, and one of the labyrinthine walls of the Dungeon turned to ash, leaving a scorched hole into another hallway. Embers and smoke filled the air.

Wordlessly, Snorlax turned around and lumbered through the Dungeon, growling. His arms twitched and swung, and the Snorlax himself was breathing heavily and angrily. He roared and slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a crater as big as he was in it. Then, he continued forward.

“Yes. Too far gone.”

Snorlax spun around, blasting another Hyper Beam through the smoke. This time, it didn’t hit anything for a while. It struck the end of the hall with a distant explosion. The glowing eyes of an Alakazam shined through the smoke.

“Oh? You can blast them repeatedly? What drawback does that give you, hmm? Perhaps it takes up too much energy.”

Snorlax fired again, this time directly at the glowing eyes, but they disappeared a split second before the blast could connect. Nevren reappeared upside-down in front of Snorlax, tapping a single, glowing finger to his forehead.

Snorlax stopped his blast; the energy that had been gathered dissipated harmlessly in all directions. But his mouth didn’t close. His legs wobbled, but he didn’t quite fall, so much as he leaned against the wall that hadn’t been destroyed.

Nevren sighed, looking at the entranced mutant. “I apologize in advance.” His eyes glowed brightly. Nevren placed his palm on the Snorlax’s chest; the glow of his eyes channeled rapidly down his neck, into his arm, into his palm, and then into Snorlax.

After a brief spasm, the Snorlax disappeared from the Dungeon.

Nevren dug through the bag over his shoulder and pulled out his Badge. He tapped on the Heart symbol in the center twice and held it in the air. After several seconds of waiting for the safe extraction to be established, he disappeared from the Dungeon, reappearing near the entrance. While he fully expected to see the unconscious, or perhaps dead, Snorlax nearby, nothing waited for him at the entrance to the distortion.

“Hm.” Nevren inspected the area halfheartedly but then shrugged. He supposed it was already taken care of, then. Efficient. Nevren spared a glance at a charm in his bag, glowing a dim gray. A few moments later, it brightened to cyan.

Nodding to himself, Nevren raised his Badge to return to Kilo Village.

<><><>​

Rhys’ walk back home was a quiet one. He heard wild Pidgey singing in the trees. Rattata scampered in the bushes. Auras were wild or calm, rushing or resting. Wild Pokémon in this area weren’t anything to worry about. That was one reason he enjoyed living in the forest to the side of Kilo Village’s outskirts. The auras didn’t overwhelm his senses.

It also meant that if a powerful aura was around, he could spot it instantly.

“Hello, Rim.” Rhys stopped walking and lifted his head. To his left was the black, rocky Kilo Mountainside. To the right was the surrounding Kilo Forest, comprised of thin trees with thick, lumpy tops. And ahead and behind him, the thin, grassy field that connected the two.

An Espurr appeared in front of Rhys, ten of his paces away. She was floating at eye-level to Rhys, but she didn’t look directly at him. She stared at his feet instead.

“H-hello…” Her voice was like a whisper, barely audible over the wind. Rhys had to strain his sensitive ears.

“I didn’t appreciate your antics last night.”

Rim didn’t reply.

“Will you stop, then?”

Again, no reply came.

“I see,” Rhys said. “So, it’s begun again. Do not think that I am unprepared, Rim. Send that message to the others.”

“The… orb… p-please…”

“This?” Rhys grabbed at the strap, pulling his bag up. “You intend to take the Orb?”

“P-please…”

“I will not allow it.”

The wind died down. For a few breaths, the atmosphere lost its ambient sounds. Then, it picked up again. The leaves on bushes rustled; wild Pokémon, sensing the tension, fled. The wind stopped again. Rim’s fur, however, continued to blow, energy swirling around her.

Air twisted around Rhys; in a deft movement, he jumped back, dodging Rim’s first Psychic blast. The dirt where he stood warped into an oblong, spiral spike of grass and mud. Rhys countered with a bright ball of concentrated light from his paws, aimed at Rim. It was weakened by an odd, invisible barrier, but still passed through, making the Espurr squeak. She countered with another bout of twisting energy. Rhys dodged it again but felt the fur at the edge of his tail spiral into a corkscrew.

Rhys fired another Flash Cannon at her, its brilliance scaring off all spectating wild Pokémon. Rim vanished. Rhys cursed and glanced behind him; he sensed a powerful presence in front of him, but it was too late. Twisting energy surrounded Rhys. Bones strained and he lost the wind in his chest. He jumped away but dropped his bag in the process.

Rim readied another wave. Rhys ran in the opposite direction and then redirected himself. He fired another ball of silver light one last time; Rim dodged but had to close her eyes against the bright detonation. When she opened them again, he was gone, but the bag remained. Based on the dim glow it emitted, the orb was still inside.

Rhys watched silently from a rocky outcrop, eyes closed. He tracked her aura but tried to hide his own.

Rim hastily floated down and pulled the cloth out. The orb fell out of the bag, knocking against the dirt with a dull thud. She smiled in relief and hastily grabbed the orb with both hands.

Nothing happened. Her smile transitioned into a confused frown.

In another second, her big, purple eyes bulged with panic. She pulled her hands away and then touched it again. Nothing. She touched it yet again. Still, nothing. She whimpered and knocked her claws against the side. It made a hollow tink.

The glow inside was just a latent Aura Sphere; Rhys had mimicked the Mystic radiance perfectly, yet it was all a fabrication. It was simply colored glass.

Rhys swiftly left the battlefield, undetected.

<><><>​

“Got it, guys!” Owen said. “Ha ha, that was… what?” The orb wasn’t in his hands anymore.

He stood in a clearing within a forest vaguely similar to the one outside Rhys’ home. Sunlight poured through the treetops above, creating dazzling patterns on the ground. A large, open field sat to his right, beyond tree trunks wider than he was tall. More and more forest surrounded him in all directions. Tanned wood topped with bright green. There was no mountain and no nearby cave; Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were nowhere to be seen.

“Okay. I’m crazy,” Owen finally conceded, looking at his hands. He was certain that he was holding the orb, or that he at least grabbed it. But then, in an instant, it was gone, and then… What happened after that? He fell, and… his tail? Or did he… no, that wasn’t right…

He had blacked out for at most half a blink. And then, he was here. It still felt like Mispy was holding him, but it was some sort of phantom sensation. He saw no vines wrapped around his abdomen.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.” But then again, he didn’t feel hungry.

Something rustled behind him.

“U-uh—h-h-hello?” The flame on his tail brightened. Fire danced in the back of his throat. His heart was racing with onset panic at being thrown into a completely unfamiliar place.

More rustling behind him again, where he had once been facing—and to his left, and his right, and above him. Eyes everywhere, little dots in the shadows of bushes and branches. He caught sight of one of them.

“H-hey!” he said, pointing. “I saw that! C-come out! And—and do it in a… slow and non-threatening way! Please!”

After a few seconds, a Leafeon emerged. Owen deflated with his sigh.

A few other Pokémon revealed themselves, including a large Jumpluff. Another was a Murkrow—but instead of its iconic, black feathers, it was covered in sharp, green leaves. Another emerged—this one was a Cubone, holding a solid, wooden stick instead of a bone. Its helmet was made of the same material. The Jumpluff—an actual, normal Pokémon—helped him relax the same way seeing the Leafeon did. If there was anywhere for him to be placed randomly, a place of Grass-Types wasn’t too bad.

“Hey,” Owen said, lowering his guard. “Sorry. I’m just a little… confused. Um. Where am I?” He nervously nibbled on his tongue. “I’m sorry if I’m, um, intruding, or anything like that. I think I got here by accident, somehow. I’ll go right home! When… I know where that is.”

The Pokémon all looked at one another. They seemed to understand Owen and were murmuring to one another. Owen’s breathing steadied. At least they weren’t wild. Another ideal circumstance. He listened in on the words being said, sensing that quite a few of these Pokémon were tense and ready to fight or flee. He gulped. Was he about to become a Carnivine’s lunch? Some Grass cult’s sacrifice? Even if he had an advantage, he didn’t think he’d be able to take on all of them. It would be the most humiliating way to die, really—a Charmander, eaten by a bunch of Grass-Types.

The mumbling slowly subsided; more and more of their eyes focused on something behind Owen. The Charmander almost didn’t want to look back. He could feel it. A presence—a powerful, incredible, radiant presence. Perhaps it was the cult’s leader, ready to cook him up. Charmander stew! With only the finest herbs and berries. It cooked itself.

He couldn’t move; his flame burned brighter, ready to run and torch anything that stopped him.

“Yo,” said a feminine, yet casual voice. “Took you long enough.”

By some miracle, Owen heard this voice over the blood pounding in his head. This voice sounded familiar. Recent. Wait! It was the pretty voice!

He spun around.

His jaw nearly detached from the rest of his head. “M-M-M… Muh—Muh—”

“Nice to meet you in spirit, Owen,” Mew said, smiling wryly. “How’s life?”

 

[lucarioknight56]

A;right, first non-awards review I've made in a while, so let's get this rollin'! I've read all the chapters to this point, so this is a more general review.

Grammar/Style:
The only grammar mistake I remember right now is the use of 'were' rather than 'was'? Or maybe it was the reverse. There was also Rhys asking about the pose required to get into Owen's house; it ought to have a question mark rather than a comma, unless you were intending for it to sound like a neutral statement. There was also a place you could use a colon where Rhys is describing why he likes this forest setting in this last chapter. Regardless, you've gotten pretty good.

As for style, you use a more...simplistic voice. Not that that's bad, not at all. It works quite well for quickly describing character actions and moving through the tale quickly. Most of the exposition we receive is through Owen's sight, so I'd say this is third-person limited, with some deviances on occasion. That's the style I tend to use, but I like shifting between two perspectives consistently across a chapter, but that's just me.

Plot/Story:

One of the bigger issues I have with fanfiction as a whole is that authors like making it an episodic series rather than the size of an actual novel; it allows for more fluff than needed and doesn't plan for an end in sight. That's something that I doubt will really change, but connected to that is the PMD style of pacing, which is generally slowly bringing the characters up to speed in the Guild, gradually bringing in the large-scale plot, then heaping it on all at once. That tends to be a criticism in the series, and a perfectly understandable one at that. And you mostly avoid it.

At this point in the story (six chapters), we're already getting to see the bigger picture of what's happening: mutant Pokemon are coming, these elemental orbs are in danger, and there seems to be some meddling by the higher-ups to keep it under wraps--I dunno, it's just how it appears on the last one. Up till now, we've been worried about Owen's sake, but as time goes on, there are questions about the world in general--especially as Owen keeps getting this overarching feeling of familiarity.

A decent plot so far, but I'd say that I'm in it more for Owen's personality rather than this. That is subject to change, however; PMD plots have the tendency to change from character-driven to plot-driven in the end due to the twists and turns, and that is always something I enjoy.

Characters:
So far, I'm not sure I can say much. Little development has happened, and most characters don't feel particularly memorable--mostly because they haven't done anything suited to their species, to be frank. Owen is memorable due to his personality and with his species (Charmander) being used in a believable way in the setting. Rhys I can remember because he's my favorite Pokemon (Lucario) and his personality and plot-importance to his point make readers remember. Nevren as well, especially with the dream battle scene. Then, of course there's Anam with his blubbery nature.

I remember a thread mentioning how epithets are overused, but in PMD, I'd say it is the only place it is well justified. It can be hard to keep track of all the species of Pokemon, especially when we're just starting out. While it would be difficult to forget Owen's species, the other so-far minor characters are quite forgettable, and I don't remember there being too many reminders on what species they were save for a physical description--which isn't always the most useful. Try to intersperse this sort of reminder n the prose, and I think they will stand out more.

Other than that, character personalities are somewhat distinct, at least with Owen and the leaders. Can't say the same for his teammates, as they haven't been focused on enough to do that, but it's still early on, so that can be changed.

Setting:
I can tell you have made a more traditional take on a PMD setting, choosing to go with the usual format of a Mystery Dungeon and its items. I don't have a problem with that, but I find that trying to incorporate a game mechanic that's RNG more than anything makes it difficult to easily bring into prose. I tried it out in my first two stories, and it ultimately became boring and repetitive. You avoid that by seemingly not using the floor mechanic, which is something I should have avoided. Kudos on that, as it makes Point-A-to-Point-B a lot easier to do.

In terms of the overworld, it is...fine. The issue is that we don't get to see much of it since your style of writing doesn't tend to allow for detailed descriptions, especially for settings. Often the biggest things that make a world are the small things; what is going on around Owen in the streets? The trees? The village? I tend to use scenes where a character is walking to describe that first, then go on to their actual thoughts, as it tends to be a good transition. You've done better in description in this last chapter you posted with Rhys' room,

I can tell that there is a deep world waiting to be explored here. You do a good job of letting us see inside Owen's head and see what he thinks, but try using the third-person viewpoint to its fullest by going into setting description. That is arguably its strength over first-person, where you have to stay in character as you describe a setting. If you want help, you can always go to my little thread I made here. I don't usually like advertising, but I made the material, and it can be quite useful if needed--if comments and likes are anything to go by.

Side Note: I find it interesting that you gave each Pokemon a unique last name rather than first, keeping true to the games while also granting the opportunity to differentiate. It makes sense from a world standpoint, but it would be nice to see that utilized for when we do encounter another Pokemon of the same species. Little details that are used in the world make it feel alive.

Overall:
A nice, well-written addition to the PMD universe, even if it so far has troubles standing out with a lack of worldbuilding due to a lack of setting description. Keep at it! You're doing great, especially if you've avoided spelling/grammar errors!

 

[canisaries]

Maybe Owen wasn’t the only crazy one in the family.

Family, eh? An awfully loaded word there you're using, Owen :thinking:

She always did seem heavier, or perhaps denser, than the average Chikorita

more like thiccorita aahhahhhahhahhhhahahha i'll see myself out.

She had a much easier time lifting Owen in the air. This just might work. He was even lighter than Gahi—and easier to hold, too.

Ehh, I'm not sure on the "this just might work" in the middle. I don't know how that sentence should be in past tense, or whether it can work at all.

Owen normally wouldn’t disrespect a by using it as a stepping stone, but perhaps this time would have been a necessary evil.

Missing word in this sentence?

The flame on Owen’s tail went out.

oh geez

i can't believe owen's f*cking dead

“Hrrmmnnn, what a mess,” Rhys muttered, walking through town in a brisk pace.

Not a native, but isn't it at a pace? Dunno, but that sounds better to me...

Anam gulped, but then shook his head. “This time… he feels different.” The feeler-horns behind his head twitched. “He’s telling the truth… b-but what’s that mean? I dunno… I dunno….”

I like how Anam still retains his personality in this spooky threatening conspiracy stuff. Too often do characters who lie about themselves turn out to act in serious and "evil" manners when the spotlight is out.

A few other Pokémon revealed themselves, including a large Jumpluff. Another was a Murkrow—but instead of its iconic, black feathers, it was covered in sharp leaves. Another emerged—this one was a Cubone, holding a solid, wooden stick instead of a bone. Its helmet was made of the same material.

Ooh, love these variants! Much more to them than the water-type mon in Calm Water Lake just being blue.

Was he about to become a Carnveine’s lunch?

Carnivine is the name, unless Owen's specifically remembering the name wrong.

“Nice to meet you in spirit, Owen,” the Mew said, smiling wryly. “How’s life?”

well isn't this an aMEWsing turn of events i'm not sorry.

The plot's certainly thickened. We're finally introduced to the concepts given in the story summary. The interaction between Rhys and the Espurr is odd, clearly more complex than a good vs. evil or even side A vs. side B deal. It awakens a lot of intrigue.

I still stand by what I said before about the semicolons, even more so now that it seems like there are more of them (or maybe I'm just more perceptive now?). I just don't see their function.

Finally, I'm sort of upset about something totally out of your control - the fact that my own PMD story idea is getting dangerously close to this one, with type-related macguffins with great power and mutants around ;p I mean I guess it shouldn't matter if other aspects are clearly different? Just really don't want to get accused of copying though.

 

[Ambyssin]

Well that was... certainly something alright. You did it Owen! You touched the orb! That's totally not a euphemism or anything. :V

The chapter pretty much confirms my theory that Rhys and Nevren had something to do with mucking up both Owen's and Team Alloy's memories. It makes sense that it apparently happened multiple times, to boot. I didn't necessarily expect Anam to be in on this whole thing... though his demeanor about the situation suggests he's either subscribed to the Ampharos school of "crouching moron, hidden badass," or he just becomes really frightening if you push his buttons the wrong way. I'm going with the former. Not to say his personality is an act or anything. It's just... how he is in public, I guess.

These Hunters sound like our rival organization in what likely appears to be a MacGuffin quest of sorts for these orbs. Remi so far ticks the standard boxes off in the creepy Espurr stereotype, so I'm going to reserve judgment until I see a bit more of her in action. I think the description of Mew's freaky forst world was find. It seems like a pretty bare bones place for a grass shrine, but who am I to judge? I appreciate we got scattered details about Rhys' room, even if it's just that the room is very plain. Sometimes that's all you need. The Association HQ felt lacking, but I assume we'll be back there later and can have more stuff shown off as is necessary. I also think Team Alloy's respective personalities showed through a bit more this time around. Demitri's fear of heights, Gahi's more troublemaking nature, and Mispy just generally being quiet and going with the team. The part where they were getting the orb made them stand a bit more... though I will concede I still get Demitri and Gahi backwards in my head, even with the occassional reminder about their species. I guess I really just need to see more of them doing stuff. Even with scenes like the dungeon crawl last time, it felt like they were there to take a backseat to Owen, our POV guy. But here they're all working as a quartet, and so they stood out better as a result.

I look forward to seeing what laissez-faire Mew is like in the next chapter. Onto snark!

The flame on Owen’s tail went out.

Welp, great story! I thoroughly enjoyed it! 10/10... thanks for sharing. <3

It was simply colored glass. The glow inside was just a latent Aura Sphere.

Looks like Rim got bamboozled! Maybe one of Rhys' ancestors is a Zoroark?

“I saw that! C-come out! And—and do it in a… slow and non-threatening way! P-please!”

*monotone* Yeah, you go, Owen, that oughta show them.

“Hey,” Owen said, lowering his guard. “S-sorry. I’m just a little… confused. Um. Where am I?” he said. “I’m sorry if I’m, um, intruding, or anything like that. I think I got here on accident, somehow. I’ll go right home! When… I know where that is.”

I'd like to see what Owen's like after a night of partying. "N-No, officer, I have... um... I don't know where that Dragonair came from."

Charmander stew! With only the finest herbs and berries. It cooked itself.

But can it do my taxes? Or keep me company on a lonely Friday night? Do I get free shipping and processing?

“Nice to meet you in spirit, Owen,” the Mew said, smiling wryly. “How’s life?”

 

[namohysip]

Chapter 7 – Not Quite Dead​

“You’re… you’re Mew.” He pointed an accusatory claw toward the pink god. “Mew!”

“Yep!”

“And—and you’re… you’re talking to me. You know my name.”

“Uh-huh!”

Owen’s throat sealed itself. He swallowed, but it didn’t help. It was like his face was stuffed with Oran Berries. “You… y-you… you, you… you…”

“Aww, you’re shy! I like the shy types.” She gave Owen a little wink.

Owen knew that if he wasn’t in this strange place, he would’ve passed out by now. Instead, he stared in shock. The lush forest leaves swayed with the wind. The canopy’s rustling leaves created beautiful patterns of light on the ground. He worried that even an improper sneeze would set it all alight, along with all the Pokémon still watching from just outside the clearing.

Mew wasn’t real. And yet there she was. Somehow.

“Mew! Why are you looking at—at me? No, wait, I mean—talking to me? I’m—Did you want to see Rhys, instead? He’s way more important!”

The Mew giggled. “Oh, call me Star. My name’s Mew Star.”

“S-S-Star? Y-you—! But you’re important! A-aren’t you supposed to not have a name aside from your species? Or… I didn’t even think you were real, but…”

That thought settled in. Mew was real. Did that mean… other things about the Legendary Pokémon and all their myths were also real?

“What, just because I’m Mew means I can’t have a name to go along with it? C’mon, that’s no fun.” Star puffed her cheeks. “What happens if I run into a lesser Mew? Then we’ll be all kinds of confused! My name is Star, got it? Besides, it’d be confusing if I did this, right?”

She had said so much there that Owen had no chance to reply to any of it. Lesser Mew? There wasn’t even a single Mew until a few seconds ago!

Suddenly, Star’s body shifted and twisted, starting from a mesh of pink into orange, and she fell to the ground on her feet—a Charmander.

She gave a little bow. “Eh? Eh?” She followed up with a little spin, wagging her tail to loosen a few embers.

“Wh—uh—that—” Owen gulped. “D-don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” Star asked, flicking her tail again.

“That.”

Star eyed Owen, as if getting a read for him, but then shrugged. “Fine,” she relented, and she melted back to her floating, Mew self. She created a purple bubble and rested her elbows against it, her tail curling above her.

Owen felt the heat slowly leave his face. “Okay. Okay, that’s better. It’s n-nice to meet you, um, Star. I’m—I’m Charmander Owen! And—”

“Oh, please, I already know all about you.” She waved a paw dismissively in the air. “I’m pretty high up in the pantheon or whatever.”

“O-oh, so, you’re—”

“Creator of common life, yes,” Star said, nodding. “Pretty nifty, huh? I have a few perks, too. Reading minds, shape-shifting, you know.”

“That’s…”

“So! I hate to be the one to tell you this”—She clapped her paws together—“but by touching that orb in Rhys’ room, you kinda more or less closed off your fate to three options. Okay? Mind if I tell you those?”

“Wait—the Orb? The Orb? Do I capitalize that? Was I supposed to—I mean, was I really not supposed to touch it?”

“No way, definitely not.” Star shook her head, though she didn’t hide her playful smile. “I mean, you’re fine, probably, but you probably also shouldn’t have gone against what the old Lucario told you. But hey, that’s karma, right?”

The many spectating Pokémon said nothing. They all listened silently. Owen noticed that none of them were bowing to Star, or doing anything of that nature. He, too, refrained from kneeling before her. It didn’t feel right, anyway. Not after what she just said. The little connections in his mind clicked together. The pink mist, the voice, and now, this Creator before him telling him that he shouldn’t have done everything that voice told him to do.

“…You told me to touch it!”

“Did I?” Star asked innocently, holding her right hand to her cheek, mouth agape. “Oh, no! Maybe it was my evil twin, Rats Wem!”

That earned another long, thoughtful, existential silence from the Charmander. Even his tail dimmed. Owen had no idea the Creator could be so juvenile. His worldview was melting by the second. Entire perspectives shattered. Whole outlooks upturned. He didn’t even think Creator Mew was real. Now, not only was she real, but she was some sort of—

“Okay, okay, fine.” Star bowed her head in what Owen knew was a false apology. “I’ll admit it. I may have egged you on to touching it, and maybe I convinced Rhys to leave the Orb for you to finally grab. A lot of people didn’t want you to touch that thing. Including Rhys, until this morning, and until—”

“So, it was intentional!”

“And,” Star went on, “it’s still something that’s probably a bad idea. But it just happened to be the least bad idea. Kinda like choosing between cutting off your head and cutting off your arm.”

Owen winced. “Okay. Fine. Good. Good to hear. Very good. Just… tell me where I am, first.”

“Huh. Okay, that’s a good transition.” She pushed off her psychic bubble, motioning to the bright forest. The dazzling patterns still mesmerized Owen. Now that he had a better look at the branches—which covered the sky like thick Spinarak webs—he spotted a few Grassy Pidgey nesting in the bunches of teardrop-shaped leaves.

“You touched what’s known as the Grass Orb.” She then motioned to the tall, bright treetops above her. “And this is the Grass Realm. It’s an offshoot of the spirit world, somewhere between the world of the living and the dead, where Grass Pokémon of times current and old come to socialize and help keep this Orb safe from intruders. Y’know, people like you.”

Owen stiffened. “I’m an intruder?”

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t call you hostile,” Star dismissed, “which is why you’re still standing here. Though I did have to warn some of these guys.”

A shiver ran up Owen’s spine. Some of these Pokémon, even if they were Grass Types, felt powerful. He envisioned the Pidgey in the trees all swarming him at once, plucking away at him scale by scale.

“Okay. So, tell me this. What can I do? What are my options th-that you said I’d have to pick from?”

The Mew nodded. “I’ll start with the option that can get you back home.” She waited for Owen to say something, but when he didn’t, she continued. “Right now, in the real world, your body is kinda… not alive. But it’s being sustained on a basic level by the power of the Orb you touched—for a while, at least.”

A blink’s time passed in silence. Then, “I’m DEAD?!”

“Calm down for a sec!” Star held him by the shoulders, though her light body didn’t keep him from trembling. “Not yet! You’re super-almost-dead, but not dead-dead, okay?”

Owen stabilized enough to speak, though his eyes remained wide. “Okay… okay…” He was still shaken but he could speak. “So—so how do I become not-super-almost-dead?”

Star let him go. “Inside this realm, there’s a Dungeon. At the center, there’s something called a Core. The Core is going to have to accept or reject you, depending on whether it likes you or not—or, I guess if you can force your way through, but,”—she blew a raspberry—“no way that’s happening. But don’t worry, Owen, you’ll pass that test. But… if you take it… you also have to want it. And to want that, you need to know what grabbing that Orb… entails.”

Owen nodded silently.

“It, uh… the Grass Orb, uh… it’s… it’s going to give you a lot of power. Power that won’t show itself at first, but the more you hone it, the stronger you’ll become.”

He didn’t trust that. “What’s the downside? I’ll be able to help way more people if I’m stronger, right? Does it shorten my lifespan or something?”

“I mean, indirectly. People may want to hunt you down for that power to have it for themselves.”

Someone spoke from behind them. “It’s what happened to me.”

Owen turned around, looking at a Jumpluff. His heart froze and he didn’t know why. And for a fraction of a second, he thought Jumpluff glared at him.

“I was the… previous holder of the Grass Orb, long ago.” He floated down until his little feet touched the grassy floor. “And I was slain. From my body emerged the Orb—but before it could be claimed, Rhys took it, protecting the power from being acquired by someone with… less benevolent intentions.”

“The Espurr?” Owen asked.

“Look,” Star said, “a lot of people are after the Orb—and that Espurr is one of them, yeah. Jumpluff Klent”—she motioned to him—“decided to stay back here to protect the Grass Orb from the inside.”

Klent sighed. “I protected the Orb for what must have been five hundred years,” he said, “but I just wasn’t strong enough against that sort of power…”

“Owen,” Star said, “it’s a huge obligation. You’ll be… you’ll be throwing a normal life away. And if you’re scared, you’ll have to go into hiding, like a lot of other holders did. It’s… it’s not fun, Owen, if you aren’t strong. And you aren’t strong. Not yet. But Rhys could help you, and maybe…”

Owen caught onto something. “Wait.” His flame flickered anxiously. “So, if I get trained, I’ll be strong enough to guard the Orb, right? Sure. But… why me? Why do I pass so easily?”

“Uhhhh—” Star fidgeted. Her tail twitched. “You have a lot of… potential! That’s all.”

Owen crossed his arms. “How come, for real?”

“No, that’s it—you have a lot of potential. You can keep the Orb safe. And if you do, maybe, I dunno, things can work out?”

“Things can work out,” Owen repeated. He figured that Star was aware of his perceptiveness. Yet, she planned to be evasive anyway? “What things?” he pressed. “You aren’t telling me everything. What are my other two options?”

Star hummed, recreating her lounging bubble of Psychic energy. “Right, the other two. Okay. One is, you can stay here, like Klent, and protect the Orb. The other is, you come with me to the aura sea, and pass on.”

One of the Pidgey let out a soft chirping noise, nuzzling against the other. Jumpluff Klent quietly rubbed his pom-poms together.

“What choice is that?!” Owen blurted. “So, I either take this power, die, or super die?!”

“I mean… Yes.”

“Well then, I don’t really have a choice, do I?!” Owen growled. The amount of information was too much for him to fully comprehend; for once, he was able to focus on just one thing. If he didn’t accept, he would never return to the living world again. Nothing else mattered.

“Take… just take me to the Core.”

This temptress had led him right into a divine trap.

<><><>​

Owen walked with his arms crossed, head down. The power seemed good. He’d be able to use it for so many rescue missions! But he’d also be hunted down. But if he trained with Rhys, he’d be able to defend himself! Oh, but then he’ll have to tell his parents.

Throughout their walk, Pokémon watched him from the bushes, from the shadows, from the branches above—there was even a wooden Ekans nestled inside one of the trunks, eying him silently.

“Um, Star?” the Charmander—perhaps the only Charmander who’d ever set foot in this realm—said. “Does this mean, if I live for a long time, that I’ll outlive everybody? Klent said five hundred years…”

“D’aw, you’re fine,” Star said. “Remember, the Orb taps into the spirit world. They’ll be around.”

For some reason, this lifted a weight off his shoulders. Star bumped against the tough scales on his ill-defined shoulders. “Aw, you think I’d put you through that? Don’t worry, I’ll help you out. I try to help everyone out if I can.”

“I’d hope so!” Owen said. “You made life!”

Star giggled. “I do my best.”

Then, she pointed ahead. There was a distortion of light that was wider than one he’d ever seen before, expanding up, left, and right, like a giant, vertical lake. It only became visible when they approached; before that final step, it was unnoticeable.

“That’s the Dungeon that leads to the Core. It’s a single-segment, giant Dungeon. All you need to do is get to the center.”

“…Is it hard?”

Star hesitated before she answered, which did nothing good for Owen’s nerves. “It’s not my place to decide. This is the domain of Grass—it’s not my territory.” She motioned to the distortion again, the ripples of which suddenly felt a lot more ominous. “Normally, you’ll have spirits protecting it, but seeing as I already gave you the okay, they’ll let you pass without a fuss. Hopefully. Maybe some of them might be a little leery, you know, but… Aw, hey! It’ll probably be just fine!”

The Mew’s confident smile was enough to brighten his tail. “Thanks, Star.”

He was going to die.

That was his first thought. But… despite his circumstances, she was still Mew. Maybe she knew something he didn’t, and couldn’t tell him for important reasons. What did he know? She seemed nice enough. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Some sort of divine surprise party. Owen used to not even believe Star existed, let alone that the Books were real, but here she was. He was probably in too much of a mental shock for the implications of all that to settle in, but he didn’t want to dwell long enough to let that happen. “I… I don’t know what this is all going to turn out like, but it’s… I’m glad that I got to talk to you.”

Star giggled, scratching her left ear. “…Owen.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember. A lot of people aren’t going to be happy that you took this Orb. To them, you just aren’t fit to be a Guardian. I know you’re a lot older than you look, and I can see into your heart, and I know you’re a good ‘mon and all that. But not everyone else sees it the same way.

“Once you get this power… I want you to take it slow, yeah? Don’t get too creative with it, don’t try to make moves to take on more than you did before. Follow what Rhys says. Nevren’s good, too. And Anam. Use your judgment and think conservatively to earn their trust.”

It was uncharacteristically serious of her…

“I get it.” Owen sighed. “Everybody keeps calling me a kid because I’m so small. I mean, who ever heard of an adult Charmander, right?”

“It’s more common than you think,” Star admitted. “Civilized, non-Heart Pokémon don’t exactly fight that often. Wouldn’t be surprised if most folks just didn’t evolve. I’d call it lost potential, but hey, a life of peace doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Well—you know what I mean. And I get what you mean, too. I’ll… take it slow. And train. I… I mean, I always try to take things carefully, right?”

“If you took everything carefully,” Star said with an amused smile, “you wouldn’t be here.”

Owen’s face felt hot. “F-from here on out, I’ll be more careful.”

“Good!” She clapped her tiny paws together. “And if you ever have any doubts, you can ask me, or even your spirits. We’re here for you. Now, get outta here.” She shooed him away with her tail. “Grab that Core.”

And with that, the Charmander passed through the distortion.

<><><>​

Big indeed. Owen lost track of time during his adventure through the single-section Dungeon. The walls were made entirely of twisted bark, like a frozen ocean of wood that sprouted entire trees on either side. Every turn through these bright, narrow halls led to a new room, and every so often, he ran into a spirit that helped him on his way.

During his walk, Owen did his best to try to look polite and proper; if he didn’t want to provoke some sort of divine wrath from these spirits of a Type that would naturally fear him, he’d have to be on his best behavior. Every so often, he’d run into a spirit or two that fled at the very sight of him. Other times, he’d see a spirit that just watched him nervously.

They always watched him with an uneasy leer when he did that. Did Owen confuse them, somehow? It wasn’t that unheard of for a Fire to chitchat with a Grass, was it?

After a while, a green tea-flavored Slurpuff assured him that he was only a few hundred turns away. Wonderful! He wondered if being chased and his life being in danger would have made the process more bearable.

But eventually, he did find his way. He made the final turn and saw a long, dark hallway. The forest was dim here, and the trees were overgrown, blotting out the sun—or, whatever it was that simulated a sun in this realm. The only light source was a dim glow at the end of the hall. Owen walked toward it. His shadow loomed threateningly behind him the closer he got. The glow came from higher up. He entered a small clearing lined with a wall of more twisted wood, arching into a giant dome.

But standing in the way was a single Lilligant. The way that orb glowed behind her, the Lilligant’s shadow was long, touching Owen’s feet. Her expression was grave like she was staring death in the face.

For some reason… Owen’s heart ached. “Hi?” he asked, tail dimming. “Are you… alright?”

No wind here. No rustling leaves. Complete silence save for the hum of his flame. The golden glow of that orb dwarfed his orange firelight.

Lilligant stepped forward a single step and froze. She couldn’t look directly at him. But the way she was trembling… How frightened was she? Of him? Of… what was about to happen?

“Hey,” Owen said gently, “it’s okay. I’m a Heart. My whole job is to protect people. Star will help guide me, and Rhys, and… It’s going to be okay. I won’t misuse this power or hurt anyone with it. I promise.”

She didn’t reply. Owen wondered if she could speak at all. And while there was no wind, her leaves were shaking. She finally nodded and Owen thought she was about to say something… but didn’t. Instead, when Owen blinked, she was gone.

“Oh…”

And then it was just him again. He stared somberly at the golden glow, wondering what that was all about and why it hurt so much to talk to her. It wasn’t like a wound or a sickness, but some deep, twisting pain in his core. Maybe he was just anxious…

“There it is,” Star said.

Owen yelped and spun around. “Were you following me?!”

“No, I just teleported here,” Star said. “Say, are you ready? All you need to do is reach out to the light, and let it go into your chest. That’ll be enough.”

Owen took a few breaths to steady himself. His mind frazzled, he asked, “Will it hurt?”

“Might feel a little hot.”

“Well, I like hot,” Owen said, perking up. Star’s left brow raised as he faced the Core. He squinted at the light and held his small arms out. “Okay, um, Core! I’ll take care of you from now on!”

The core got brighter. It was getting closer to him. He shut his eyes and felt an intense heat emanate from his chest. “Ngh—!” He gasped and opened his eyes. The center of his chest was glowing. It slowly faded, and the clearing became dark except for the flicker of the flame on his tail. “Wow…”

“Nice!” Star said.

“What now?” he asked.

“Just wait a bit,” Star said. “Takes a little time for the spirit to assimilate and stuff. Say, how was the walk?”

“Hated it.”

“Well, at least you weren’t fighting spirits the whole way.”

Owen snorted.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed. Star looked aimlessly to the left and right as if searching for a conversation starter.

“So,” the Mew said, “what d’you wanna do? Maybe I could turn into a Charmander again.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I’m bored. Maybe we can—”

Something bright caught Owen’s eye. He looked at his arms; lights were coming from his feet, rising like bubbles. “Wh-what’s happening?!”

“Hey, you finished absorbing the power! Nice. You’re waking up,” Star said. “Oh, right, I forgot. Uh—when you wake up, don’t panic, but you might look a little—”

But the lights were too much, and Owen evaporated in front of her. Star stared at where Owen once was and sighed.

“Eh. He’ll be fine.”

<><><>​

Star drifted down the Grass Core Dungeon, humming an old tune.

“Star,” Klent said.

“Oh, hey.” Star faced him just a few corridors away from the Core chamber. If she looked back, she could still see its entrance.

She tried to look casual, but the quiet flicking of her ears and tail suggested that she knew why Klent was there. She didn’t break the silence—didn’t know how to—but she concentrated on the pom-pom on the top of Klent’s head if only to give the illusion of looking at him in the eyes.

“…Owen,” Klent went on. “Why do you trust him? I agreed to go along with it, and I held my tongue while he was here, but… I still don’t exactly want to help him right now.”

“Oh, come on, it’s been so long,” Star said. “It’s not like—"

“And yet—”

“Don’t ‘and yet’ me, you know this is our last shot!” Star spat. “And Owen is the best one to do it. You know that. He’s stable now. Mostly. And if we wait any longer, Eon will get all the Orbs instead. No more procrastinating. We need to get Owen, and those other three, nice and ready. With Team Alloy or whatever they call themselves together, and with them in control, it’ll work out.”

Klent ruffled his pom-poms together irritably. “I won’t go against him,” the Jumpluff said, “but I’m not ready to help him, either. The other spirits will. But I’ll… just watch for now.” He turned around. “I’m going to see Amelia. She’s still shaken by all this.”

Star flinched. “O-oh… right, yeah, okay. Take care? It’s—it’s not as bad as it seems. Amia and Alex are doing a great job, and so is Rhys with the other three. They’ll understand. I promise this’ll work out.”

Klent stopped at this, head lowering. His pom-pom bobbed idly in the air, and then he looked back. “Will you make that a Divine Promise?”

Star bit her lower lip.

Klent gave Star an angry smile. “Since Owen has control over this domain now… this might be the last time I get to say this: I can’t forgive him.”

Star winced, looking down. She had no retort.

“I’m going to see Amelia.”

“Yeah…”

The Jumpluff spirit vanished; shortly after, so did the Mew.

<><><>​

“HE’S COMING BACK!” Demitri yelled into the cave. At the entrance to the kitchen, Rhys was returning from his meeting, walking past his little berry garden. The Lucario was distracted by a particularly ripe Pecha Berry, picking it from the branches. But even with those few extra seconds, they simply didn’t have enough time to cover up what had happened.

“Is—is he awake yet?!” The Axew rushed past the kitchen table, through the rocky halls, and into Gahi’s room, nearly falling into his sand pit.

“I dunno, scalebag, the guy’s tail ain’t lit up!” Gahi said, churring angrily next to Owen in his Rawst bed. The Trapinch slammed his head against the dead Charmander’s side, expecting that to be enough to rouse him from an eternal slumber.

“B-but he’s breathing, right? Barely?!” Demitri asked. He was hyperventilating, on the edge of fainting, at risk of becoming the second casualty of the morning.

Mispy, on the other side of the Charmander, shot another Heal Pulse at his body, but to no effect. As far as his body was concerned, he was in top shape. No bruises, no abnormalities, no ailments—he just happened to be dead.

Gahi paced in a fast, small circle in the room, into the hall, and then back into the room again, thinking of a way that they could get Owen awake. “We—we ain’t gonna wake’m in time, are we?”

“Is he… alive?” Mispy brought her leaf to his chest, feeling for a pulse. He had been breathing shallowly before, and her leaf had felt the warm breath from his nose. But it had been fading quickly.

Owen’s body was turning a sickly green, and his scales felt disturbingly soft like he was already decomposing in front of them.

“I’m home,” Rhys said, entering the mouth of the cave.

“H-heyyy, Rhys!” Demitri greeted, running up to him in the kitchen. He bowed a bit too deeply toward the Lucario. “H-how are you doing?”

“I am doing well,” Rhys said, staring suspiciously. “And what are you doing? Where is Owen?”

Mispy and Gahi stepped out of the bedroom.

“H-he… eh, he’s… resting,” Gahi said, glancing at Mispy. “Yeah? Just having a nap? M-Mispy?”

The Chikorita was as pale as the inside of a pear.

Rhys entered his room and inspected the shelf. Mostly everything appeared to be in its proper place. His Pecha stash was untouched. His artifacts and mementos were pristine. The Book of Mew lay undisturbed. Yet, the Grass Orb was missing. The trio knew, immediately, that Rhys figured it out.

“Students,” he said, slowly turning, “I want you to show me Owen.”

“H-he’s… he’s sleeping,” Demitri said.

“Y-yeah, maybe we shouldn’t bother’m,” Gahi said.

Mispy was on the verge of tears. Demitri knocked his claws against one another, eyes wide. Owen was dead. They let him die. All because they didn’t listen to—

Owen groaned from the bedroom. “Ugh, my head…”

“Th-there!” Demitri said. “He’s awake!”

Mispy’s leaf twitched in surprise. She turned, still in shocked disbelief, and trotted after Demitri. Rhys followed them with Gahi.

<><><>​

“W-wait,” Demitri said, “I… Owen?”

Gahi stared. “How the…”

Rhys crossed his arms in resignation. “Hello, Owen.”

Owen rubbed his head. Something about it felt… different. He felt—what was the word—fuzzy? No, that wasn’t right. It was as if his entire body was covered in a soft, flexible layer of scales. Not his usual, firm plating. He ran his right hand on his left arm. He recognized the feeling. Vaguely, just barely reminiscent of feathers. It reminded him of his bed.

“Leaves…?” He looked down. His front, once a creamy brown, was the same color as pale grass; what were once orange scales along his back and arms were now sea green. “What?”

Owen took in a sharp breath in panic. Something welled up in his gut. Normally, it would feel like a heat building in the back of his throat. Ember—a reflex if he ever felt in trouble. But this time, he felt something solid choking him from the inside of his neck. His eyes bulged in surprise—out from his mouth came a single, fat vine that narrowly missed Demitri’s shoulder. It snapped against the wall with a loud crack! and fell limply on the floor, twitching.

Owen choked on his vine. He flailed helplessly against it, trying to pull it out of him, but it was attached somewhere deep inside his stomach. He tried to breathe in. It writhed like a struggling Wurmple and then retracted rapidly into his mouth. Owen gasped for air.

“Ugh—! Th-that’s not right!” he said. “Wait—leaves… everything became… The Grass Orb.” He rubbed his head, looking at his leafy paws. “W-wait… that means…” Panicking, he grabbed his tail, pulling it around to look for his fire. Just one thing to keep him sane, just one remnant of his Fiery pride. It couldn’t have all changed. He was a Charmander! If he lost the one thing—

At the tip of his tail was not a flame, but a flower: a small, white daffodil.

“AAAAAUUUUUUUUGH!”

 

[canisaries]

The Mew giggled. “Oh, call me Star. My name’s Mew Star.”

GONNA GET A LIL WEIRD
GONNA GET A LIL WILD

What happens if I run into a lesser Mew?

Lesser Mew, huh? Interesting concept, there.

The little connections in his mind clicked together. The pink mist, the voice, and now, this Creator before him telling him that he shouldn’t have done everything that voice told him to do.

Mew oh my gods control your flatulence.

The many spectating Pokémon said nothing. They all listened silently.

[CREEPY STARING, HEAVY BREATHING]

“Did I?” Star asked innocently, holding her right hand to her cheek, mouth agape. “Oh, no! Maybe it was my evil twin, Rats Wem!”

Can I just say that I love everything about this interaction.

Star down at him,

Missing a word here?

What if it was all just a big joke?

WE PRANKED A CHARMANDER INTO THINKING HE WAS THE GUARDIAN OF THE GRASS ORB [GONE WRONG]

The walls were made entirely of twisted bark, like a frozen ocean of wood that sprouted entire trees on either side. He’d never seen something so surreal in any Dungeon before.

Cooool. I hope we get to see some other Orbs' Dungeons too.

Owen took in a sharp breath in panic. What sort of joke was this?! He felt something welling up inside his gut. Normally, it would feel like a heat building in the back of his throat. Ember—a bad habit of a reflex if he ever felt in trouble, perhaps a fragment of his primal instincts. But this time, he felt something solid choking him from the inside of his neck. His eyes bulged in surprise—out from his mouth came a single, fat vine that narrowly missed Demitri’s shoulder. It snapped against the wall with a loud crack! and fell limply on the floor, twitching.

Owen, choking on his own vine. He flailed helplessly against it, trying to pull it out of him, but it was attached somewhere deep inside his stomach. He tried to breathe in. It writhed like a struggling Wurmple, and then retracted rapidly into his mouth. Owen gasped for air.

>mfw the light-toned PMD fic has a scene straight out of my own horror fic

General Comments

I loved this chapter. It's definitely the funniest one so far, you got me smiling the whole way through.

And of course I now had to sketch grass!Owen:

Spoiler: love the color scheme btw

Looking forward to the next chapter!

 

[Ambyssin]

Owen is here to kick some grass! All joking aside, while the idea of the big, important guardian actually being rather childlike and not serious isn't terribly original, I think you pull it off well. I know playful Mews are the more common interpretation in the fandom (I've done it once), I've only gotten to read a couple and I quite like what you did with Star, here. Hope we get to see more or her or, potentially, other gods being glorified kids, as I happen to like Legends acting really silly instead of like big, destructive kaiju.

Given the way you set up the grass orb dungeon, I don't fault you for basically glossing over everything about it. The brief description brought the Great Deku Tree to mind for me so I can't unsee that in the slightest. Then we have the actual description of Owen's transformation with a suitably creeped out narrator. The idea of his flame-based attacks now being replaced by a vine whip that acts kind of like a frog's tongue (but also chokes him b/c he doesn't know how to make it work) is sure to cause some problems and I'm interested to see how you plan on handling that. If I had to fault anything, the stuff leading up to Owen waking up, with Team Alloy panicking, is kind of difficult to follow. You don't really follow any one perspective and I don't get a clear sense of where everyone is in Rhys' house and what they're doing. It also seems like it cuts to Rhys entering a bit abrupty, but maybe that's just me. Otherwise, this is a nifty, unusal chapter and I'm interested in seeing how things pan out from here.

Also, lots of good material here...

“Aww, you’re shy! I like the shy types,” she said, winking.

Mew is a flirt, confirmed. Then again, if I could transform into anything I wanted... I imagine I'd take a chance with anything, too. :V

The Mew giggled. “Oh, call me Star. My name’s Mew Star.”

Oh my god you even gave her a prostitute name... you are reaaaaaally not helping your case here, bud. XP

What happens if I run into a lesser Mew?

You mean a ditto?

“Creator of common life, yes,” Star said, nodding. “Pretty nifty, huh? I have a few perks, too. Reading minds, shape-shifting, you know.”

And also humility! /s

“Did I?” Star asked innocently, holding her right hand to her cheek, mouth agape. “Oh, no! Maybe it was my evil twin, Rats Wem!”

Star is also Maya Fey, apparently.

“Not yet! You’re super-almost-dead, but not dead-dead, okay?”

We interrupt this Pokémon Mystery Dungeon story to bring you... The Princess Bride

Follow what Rhys says. Nevren’s good, too. And Anam. Use your judgement and think conservatively to earn their trust.

Yeah, I still don't buy this. Rhys is clearly a former outlaw of sorts. You're setting someone up to pull a Dusknoir. James, perhaps?

And if we wait any longer, Eon will get all the Orbs instead.

So, the villain is that one guy with a kickass beard from Skylanders? Aww... I actually liked him.

 

[namohysip]

Thanks for the feedback, you two! As usual, I got a LOT of feedback elsewhere this time around--what a miracle!--but I also happened to reply to you guys there, too. Chapter 8 is on the way! I just... need to do some finishing touches first because I'm not satisfied with one particular scene just yet. It's getting there. Just an hour or two more! Not that it matters. Given the time of day, most folks here are probably asleep.

 

[namohysip]

Chapter 8 – A Thousand-Heart Secret​

“I’m a PLANT!” Owen screeched, grabbing his chest and tugging gently at the feather-like arrangement of leaves that covered his body. He yelped when he realized that it was a lot easier to pull them away than he had expected. One of the leaves fell to the ground; a tiny splotch of green blood remained where the leaf had been plucked.

“Ow.” He at the small hole left behind. The bleeding stopped quickly. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with being a plant,” he said to Mispy, who was glaring at him. “J-just—I’m a Charmander! Charmander! Like fire! Not a—a—”

“Grassmander?” Demitri said.

Demitri’s remark sent Gahi over the edge. The Trapinch laughed, rolling his huge head and round body on the ground. “GRASSMANDER!” he shouted to the heavens. “Oh, Arceus may’s well kill me now; there ain’t nothing gonna top this!”

“It’s—it’s not funny!” Owen’s feathers fanned out, making him look much larger and puffier than before. “I’m not ready for this!” He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Gahi had a point to laugh at the situation, for one reason or another. And perhaps, in a few days, Owen would laugh, too. But for now, at the front of Owen’s mind, the Grassmander was thinking about the most effective way to crack an exoskeleton.

“Now, Owen, close your eyes,” Rhys said carefully. “Try to meditate, yes? Can you do that?”

“I…! I… I’ll try.” Owen felt the vine in the back of his throat well up. He was used to embers billowing from his mouth when he did that. Instead, he felt that same, horrible tendril prodding at the back of his throat. He gulped to keep it down. It writhed in his gut like a giant parasite. Owen clutched his belly. “I guess it’s—is this permanent?”

“Likely not,” Rhys said. “Owen… you absorbed the Grass Orb into your being. The Grass Type, in other words, is manifesting itself in you. But soon, your body will properly assimilate it, and you will return to your Fiery self—and, perhaps after a bit of training, you’ll be able to transform from one form to the other at will. That can be quite useful.”

“O-okay… okay, I think that makes sense…” His breathing steadied. “So, I just have to wait for now? Rhys—how do you know about all this?”

“I’ve studied it before,” he said dismissively, “And, hrm… Owen, could you come with me? I would like to take you to town.”

“H-hey, can we come, too?” Demitri said.

Gahi raised his head, finally calm enough to not chitter his laughs between words. “Yeah, I wanna hear what this is all about.”

“Please?” Mispy asked.

“Ngh… I’m not sure,” Rhys said. “We will see.”

“We’re gonna follow,” Gahi said.

Rhys growled, “Are you going to disobey me?”

Mispy shrugged with her vines. “Owen will just tell us.”

The Lucario growled. He knew they were right. “You will come,” he said, “but you will be silent unless addressed. Understood?”

“Silent, eh?”

“Gahi.” Rhys glared.

“Okay, okay.” Gahi flicked his head in what was his species’ equivalent of an eyeroll. “Silent.”

Owen nervously shifted his stance. He thought Rhys would be extraordinarily upset at him for touching the Orb, and he remembered Star’s words to behave conservatively for now. Perhaps she was right about convincing him; he didn’t feel that tension from Rhys. At all. In fact, Owen sensed… relief. Rhys was relieved that Owen grabbed the Orb.

Somehow, this made the Grassy Charmander—he refused to adopt the term “Grassmander”—feel even worse.

Rhys retreated into the storage room and returned with what appeared to be a cloth three times the size of Owen. “Wear this.”

“Wear?” Owen asked. “What’s…?”

“This is a cloak. We can’t let you be visible in public. You may be mistaken for a mutant.”

Owen gulped, reaching for the cloak. It was heavy. It felt like it was made from some sort of fur and silk. It was a wonderful shade of blue, with hints of black and cream-colored fur as well. Owen brought it a bit closer, sniffing the disguise curiously. It felt quite natural and soft. A strange sense of nostalgia washed over him—something about the smell made him want to nestle into it for a nice, long—

“AUGH!” Owen hurled the cloak against the wall. “GROSS!”

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi all flinched.

Demitri in particular hid behind Mispy, clutching at his tusks as if they would keep him grounded. “Wh-what’s wrong?!”

“What’re you panicking fer?” Gahi said, clicking his jaws.

Owen pointed an accusatory claw at Rhys, and his vine shot from his mouth halfway. He chomped down to keep it from fully emerging, and he swallowed it back. After a fit of coughing, he said raggedly, “That’s your FUR!”

“Of—of course it is! I happen to shed quite a bit during the summer!” Rhys raised his muzzle indignantly. “I wasn’t going to put it all to waste! I made it into a cloak. I wove it with some Wurmple silk for a foundation, let it dry, and—”

“I’m wearing YOU!” Owen squeezed his eyes shut. “Who hoards their own fur?! You don’t see me making a—making a bag out of my discarded scales! I think I’m going to throw up—”

Owen belched a volley of claw-sized seeds from his mouth. Rhys ducked to avoid the high-velocity projectiles, which instead clattered loudly against the rocky wall behind him.

“Bullet Seed,” Mispy said with wide, fascinated eyes.

Owen groaned. Rhys stepped to his pelt and picked it up, dusting off a few of the bullets. He put it back in Owen’s arms.

“You will wear this,” he said. “We cannot go in public otherwise. Understood?”

Owen stared at the cloak of Rhys. The mixture of disgust and comfort he got from holding it in his arms was enough to make the vine in his belly writhe. “Unghh.” He finally slipped it on.

It was very warm.

<><><>​

Owen walked in total silence on their way to Kilo Village. He didn’t know what he looked like; he only knew that the cloak covered him quite well. He felt a lot like a Mimikyu, or a Tangela, hidden away in a veil of darkness. He wondered, briefly, if this was going to be how he’d have to live forever. Even if he would eventually return to his Fiery self… that Espurr was going to hunt him down. He didn’t feel much stronger. If she was out for blood, the fight would be over in one misstep.

Owen briefly lifted his cloak to catch a glance at the sky. It looked like it was just before noon. He spotted another Heart passing by—a Tyranitar. He stared at Owen curiously; the transformed Charmander quickly hid beneath his cloak again. The Heart paid them no mind for one reason or another; perhaps, with Rhys, he didn’t want to interfere.

A nagging feeling tugged in the back of his mind. He felt bare, despite the cloak. He realized shortly after that there was a distinct lack of weight on his left shoulder. He’d forgotten his bag at Rhys’ home. Too late now, he thought.

“How long was I out…?”

“It was not very long,” Rhys said. “I left to speak with the Hearts, and then I returned home after a… small errand. Then, well, I arrived. Apparently, you immediately went for the Orb once I was gone, is that right?”

“M-maybe.” Yes. “But… I feel like I’ve been gone for days. That Dungeon in the Orb was huge!”

“Time passes differently in the spirit world,” Rhys said. “It can go as fast or as slow as it wishes, depending on the environment, whoever commands it, and other conditions.”

Owen navigated up the stairway, tripping over the cloak—it was too long for him. There were a few instances where his legs and tail were exposed to the world. Rhys was quick to shove Owen back underneath.

On the way up the stairs, Owen wondered—bitterly—why he had to get caught up in this in the first place. What were these Orbs even for, anyway? Why did they exist at all? He wanted to ask, but he had a feeling that there were more pressing answers he wanted to learn, first. For example, how someone would react to seeing a Grass Charmander. If he was mistaken for a mutant, he’d be mulch in seconds, wouldn’t he?

All the while, Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi—even Gahi—were quietly following behind, though it seemed that they were just as curious about where this was all going. He heard the pitter-patter of their feet despite not seeing them. Small comforts.

They walked through the halls of the large, heart-shaped building, going straight for Anam’s quarters. Owen, recognizing the turns being made and following the purple path painted on the ground, realized where they were going. Straight to Goodra Anam. “W-wait, how big is this Orb stuff?”

“Bigger than you will expect.”

“Owen!”

“M-mom?!” Owen threw his cloak off with an enthusiasm that insulted Rhys—thankfully, nobody else was around. He pointed at the blue Gardevoir. “G-guys! It’s—why’s my mom here?” They couldn’t show up for his promotion into the Hearts, yet suddenly they’re here on such short notice? If he still had a flame, it would’ve been blazing irritably.

Amia ran and picked him up, holding him close to her chest. Owen murmured something about not being handled that way, and that he wasn’t some kid to pick up, but his protests were weak and halfhearted. Being embraced by his mother was something he really needed.

“Oh, Owen, I was so worried! I thought something had happened, and…! Oh, your father has been completely distraught!”

The Magmortar emerged from Anam’s office next and nodded. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to hold him, too. But he held back, considering Owen’s new Type. “Owen! What happened?” he said with an odd delay. “Why are you…?”

“…Amia,” Rhys said, nodding at her.

“O-oh, Rhys.” Amia’s shoulders sagged slightly. “Um… hello. How have you been?”

Owen blinked. “Wait,” he said. “What’s going on? You—you know my mom? Mom? You know… Rhys? H-he’s an Elite!”

Owen took it all in. Amia and Alex, his adoptive parents, were both there. They knew Rhys. And now, they were all going to see the Head, Anam… “Why’d you come here?”

“Wait, hang on.” Gahi tilted his huge head. “Yer mom’s a Gardevoir? How’s that work? I may not be much of a reader, but ain’t the mom usually the same species?!”

Mispy bopped Gahi on the head with a vine. “Don’t ask that.”

“I was adopted,” Owen replied routinely.

Demitri sighed, rubbing his right tusk. “Sorry about Gahi.” After an awkward two seconds of silence, he added, “If it’s any help, er, we don’t know our real parents, either!”

“You don’t say.” He would normally be suspicious of them sharing that aspect with him, too, but there were bigger issues to deal with in his head. It was a struggle to triage all of the incoming questions he had swirling around his head.

“Er, actually,” Amia said, addressing Owen’s question, “we came here because James came for us. He said that you’d be here soon, and we’d… want to see you. I think he was right.”

“Owen,” Alex said, “why did you touch the Orb? Why didn’t you tell us that—”

“Wait, you know about the Orb?” Owen asked.

“You may stop your questions, Owen.” A silhouette of a Decidueye rose from the ground in the form of a black fog, the rest of his colors arriving seconds later. “Anam is ready to see you. Rhys, keep a close eye on the entrance while we talk, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Is—is nobody going to point out that James just rose from the ground like s-some sort of phantom?” Owen asked. “H-he’s a Ghost Type, but he’s not…!” He followed them, but at this point, Owen wondered if he was still dead.

They all entered Anam’s room. Rhys stayed at the back with his eyes closed, standing guard. He was constantly watching for auras. Owen, uneasy, thought about the Espurr from before. Is that what Rhys was looking for?

Anam’s office was only about seven of the Goodra’s paces across. Upon entering, the left side was riddled with books covered in a permanent, hard layer of dry slime. It flaked off to the touch, but it had a net gain every time the Goodra contacted them. Owen spotted, at the far end of the shelf, an ancient-looking edition of the Book of Arceus, with a white cover that was faded and worn by time. Perhaps it was preserved only because of the layer of dried slime that encrusted it. He even spotted on an upper shelf a thick book titled The Unabridged Encyclopedia of Pokémon Abilities and Techniques, Seventh Edition.

Owen, realizing that he was only familiar with the sixth edition, stared enviously at it. For a precious few seconds, he’d forgotten about his troubles, replaced by the petty thought of how much it would cost to buy one. Unfortunately, the feeling of leaves on his arm brought his current issue back to the forefront of his mind.

The right side of the office had a giant board with many papers pinned all over. It seemed to be for the sake of planning and organizing. It looked incredibly chaotic; Owen couldn’t make out any pattern to where everything was placed.

The middle of the room had a desk made of dark wood, polished either by a craftsperson or by Anam’s general moistness. It was covered in a stack of paper a quarter as tall as Owen’s head, with a small bottle of Bluk Berry concentrate to the side for ink. Behind the desk, to the back of the office, was a pool of water that Anam likely used to stay hydrated. It had its own current—the inflow came from the left, with the outflow going to the back.

Anam sat in this pool of water, nibbling at his fingers nervously. “Owen,” the Goodra said, frowning at the Grass-Charmander. “Rhys… is this what you wanted to happen?” When he got no reply, he continued. “Why? This might…”

“Hold on,” Owen said. “What’s going on? How come you guys are all… do you guys all know something I don’t?”

Of course they did.

“Hey, we’ve got the same problem,” Gahi said. “What’s going on?”

Mispy wrapped a vine around Gahi’s huge jaws to keep him quiet. Demitri remained silent. Perhaps if they just let them speak, all would become clear—or, as clear as they could make it, at least.

“Owen,” Rhys said, “There is something that you should know about… the Orbs, and their history. For a long while, they have been guarded by Pokémon like you—those who have taken hold of the Orb, claiming its Core as their own. These Pokémon are known as Guardians—ideally, there would be one for each Type. A Guardian of Grass, in other words, would be you.”

“I’m… I’m the Grass Guardian.”

“Well, you are now, after taking the Orb.”

“Recently,” James said, “there has been an… increase in Orb-related activity. A Pokémon has figured out how to find them, somehow, and is now trying to gather them up. We do not know how many she has, but she has at least one, due to the glow she gives off in the darkness. The Espurr, known as Rim. Is that correct, Rhys?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “I have tracked her for quite some time. We used to be familiar with one another, until our motivations… diverged. Now, she has an Orb within her, likely taken from a slain Guardian.”

“S-slain?” Owen squeaked, his head feeling oddly icy with anxiety. “Wait, motivations? Wait, but what’s the point? Why does she want them? To be a little stronger?”

James shook his head. “Each extra Orb amplifies one’s power. To gather them all within one being? You could become something far greater than some of the highest Legendary Pokémon known to us. You could rival Arceus himself. At least… that is what you have gathered, Rhys, from your research?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “Gathering all of the Orbs will grant you… considerable power. You could distort reality itself. That’s already possible with one Orb and enough training—but every single Orb, gathered together, will exponentiate its range of influence to, quite possibly, the entire world. Perhaps further. This is why we need the Orbs to remain apart. Separate, and as far away as possible.”

“In other words, dear,” Amia said, “we don’t want someone who wants that power… to actually have it. It could end, um… everything, dear.”

“E-everything?” Owen said. “but… but if…! I mean… St—Star! Star, the Mew! Can’t she stop this?”

“She is of the spirit world,” Rhys said. “Something is holding them back from interfering with matters of the Orb in the world of the living. So, we are on our own.”

“Oh, great,” Owen mumbled, wondering what could possibly be holding her back.

Owen wasn’t sure if he was fully absorbing this information. All he knew that the vine writhing in his stomach was replaced by a cold lump. Why did Star trick him into touching this thing? Suddenly, worrying about getting mugged in a Dungeon felt a lot more desirable.

“Okay,” Owen said. “So, the Orbs, and their Guardians—all this time, they’ve been kept separate, right? So,”—Owen briefly wondered if he should ask, but he had to, for his curiosity was not satiated—“what’s this have to do with all you guys?”

Owen didn’t like the amount of silence that filled the room then. He eyed them all. Anam, James, Rhys—his friends, and his parents. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi seemed totally lost. But everyone else in the room looked tense, the answer pressing against their lips or beak.

It was the Lucario who finally broke that silence. “There are three Guardians within this room.”

Rhys was about to speak his next sentence—he didn’t even breathe between them. Yet, to Owen, there was an eternity’s worth of between that one and the next. Three guardians. He was one. His parents were here. Why were they here? He knew why.

“Owen, you are one of them. Heart Head Anam is the second. And the third…”

No. No, no, no.

Amia lowered her head and clasped her hands together. “I’m sorry, Owen, but… so am I, dear. I’ve been the Fire Guardian for a very long time.”

“M… Mom? But—but then what about… what about Dad?”

James sighed. “It is true. Guardians do not die of age. Unless they somehow lose their power, or are slain, they live forever. Therefore, they are sure to outlast all of their loved ones, who pass on to the spirit world.”

Alex nodded. “The spirit world. That’s where I truly reside, Owen. I’ve… been dead, technically, for quite some time.”

Owen’s head spun, that icy feeling becoming a tingling buzz. He sat down in the middle of the room, covering his eyes. “H-hang on… y-you’re… but you’re right here! You’re right in front of me! You aren’t a spirit! You’re… alive! You’re alive!”

The Magmortar glanced at the Gardevoir, who nodded. Amia held her hand up; Alex suddenly disintegrated, becoming nothing more than a small, blue ember. It entered her hand. Gone.

“Guardians can summon spirits, dear,” Amia said. “It’s one of the very first techniques you will learn. And while those spirits are weak at first… they will eventually become solid, and mimic the living.”

“I, too,” James said, “am a spirit. I suppose, in a sense, I have been by Anam’s side for longer than he has been a Guardian.”

Owen was close to tears. His whole world was collapsing around him. His dad was a ghost. His mom was immortal. What’s next?

“Th-then,” Owen said, “what’s… going to happen to me?” he said. “If the Guardians have to be s-separated… th-then what’s…?”

“We will no longer be following that policy,” Rhys said before James could answer. “It would be cruel to separate you from your own mother. Additionally,” he paused, “now that it is apparent that Rim—the Espurr—has a means of tracking down Guardians, it is now a bad idea to keep the powers isolated for her to pick away one at a time. We should beat her at her own game—and gather the Guardians ourselves.”

“We can use our cave!” Amia perked up. “Since the entire village is just my spirits, I could easily have the houses be more… vacant… for other Guardians!”

“The villagers, too?!” Owen cried. “B-but what about the Granny Arcanine down the road? O-or—or the Infernape that’s always repairing houses? Those kids that played by the—! They’re… they’re all dead?”

“Their status doesn’t change the way they live,” Amia hastily soothed, trying to assure Owen. “They just… happen to be spirits. That’s all!”

“Is that why I never see anybody eating?” Owen said. “Because… they don’t need to? D-Dad, you said you ate breakfast! You… you said so!” He realized that his father was no longer around. In some primal, irrational reflex, his eyes darted around to find him. His mother made another motion, summoning a blue ember. It materialized into his father. In a second wave of realization, Owen stumbled to his feet and staggered back.

“I’m sorry that this is so much, Owen,” Alex said. “But. I promise, even though everything is different—it isn’t very different—if you… just look at it a certain way, it isn’t so bad! Don’t you think?”

Owen’s mind was processing it all, yet processing none of it. Thoughts whirled so rapidly that nothing stuck. The cacophony in his head made everyone sound like distant echoes.

It was all fake. Fabrications. His mother. His father. All of Hot Spot Cave. It was all one great illusion. His whole past was built on an elaborate lie.

“I—I need to go,” Owen said. “I just—I need some air.”

“Owen, wait!” Anam said. The Charmander was trying to get out, weaving past the others. Mispy was the closet to him, but she didn’t get in the way. Rhys leaned forward to stop him, but Owen was too fast. The second Rhys’ muscles made the twitch to advance, Owen ran out, but skidded to halt only a few paces later.

“Ah,” Alakazam Nevren greeted at the entryway. “Hello, Owen. That is an interesting fashion statement.”

Owen was quiet. “You… y-you know, too.”

“Hm? Oh, was I late?” Nevren said.

“Very,” Rhys said. “Why were you not here?”

“Well, unfortunately,” Nevren said, “I was busy handling the memories of all the townsfolk you recklessly rushed past with a Grass-Type Charmander, Rhys. Whatever disguise you used exposed his tail and legs quite a few times.”

“Ngh… was it truly that many?”

“Yes, quite that many,” Nevren nodded.

“Wait—what?” Owen said. “What do you mean?”

“I had to, ah, slightly modify the memories of those who saw you.”

“You can do that?” Owen asked.

“Not on my own, no,” Nevren said. “It was just an… invention of mine, thanks to some of Rhys’ help. We needed it in order to maintain Anam’s position, lest people realize that a Goodra has been the Hearts’ Head for centuries, let alone my existence alongside Rhys.”

“Hang on, you two are immortal, too? How is—”

“Oy, what’s all that about?” Gahi spoke up.

“Ahh…” Nevren nodded. “We are. But for a different, but related, reason, so to speak.”

“Boy, that’s useful.”

Suddenly, his head was too full, and he didn’t want to ask more. He was done. He didn’t care anymore. His curiosity was satiated, and then bloated, and then force-fed. “I’m going.”

“Going?” Nevren said. “I’d recommend against it. That Espurr could appear at any moment, actually, and we wouldn’t want you to be—” Nevren touched Owen’s shoulder.

“I WANT TO GO!”

Rhys reached out to grab him, but Owen turned his head and spat a well-aimed flurry of seeds in his face. Some got in his eyes.

Owen broke off in a sprint. Nevren immediately attempted to restrain him with a well-placed twist of the air—but the new Guardian was too clever and dodged in time, predicting the strike. He had too much experience with Psychic by now to let one connect so easily.

“Ahh…” Nevren watched him go. “Perhaps we should chase him.”

Rhys was already on it, a blur of blue and white with the help of an Extreme Speed. With his vision slightly impaired, he was slower than usual. Gahi ran, too, barely keeping up. Once they both got to the exit of the Heart, they were abruptly ensnared by vines that sprouted from the ground, completely blocking the entryway. “Agh—he used—what is this—a Grass variant of his Trap technique—” Rhys kicked through the first layer, but two more tangles blocked their way.

Nevren’s eyes glowed. He vanished from the office and appeared ahead, right by the stairs to the southern road, blocking Owen’s way. “Stop!” Nevren held a hand up. A clear barrier formed from his palm.

Owen ran straight into it, baring his fangs at Nevren. “Let me out!” he said, slamming his fist against the barrier. His heart was beating against the sides of his head.

“I can’t allow that, Owen,” Nevren said. “You will stay here while we sort things out.”

“I said…” Owen’s vision was reddening again red. He pounded against the barrier. Nevren briefly glanced into his pocket, where something dim and gray shined. Meanwhile, the Charmander’s growls became deeper, defying his small stature. “Let… me… OUT!”

And then, a bright, white light enveloped Owen. It was a brilliant glow—one that surrounded all Pokémon that were in the process of ascending to their next stage in life. But for a brief instant during that evolution, there was a tinge of something else—a strange, blackish bolt. Owen roared from within the light, slamming his fist on the barrier once again. He didn’t have time to fully process his new height or more defined shoulders, or his new, lanky appearance as a Charmeleon. He only knew to attack again. His mouth opened wide and a thick vine slammed against Nevren’s barrier with an ethereal thud.

“Ngh—” The feedback caused Nevren to fall backwards. The grassy Charmeleon—leaves for scales, and an even larger flower on his tail—ran past the Elite.

Rhys broke through the vines by the entrance, rushing past Nevren. A second set of vines erupted from the ground beneath him, ensnaring the Lucario yet again. “Nevren!” he hissed. “Why did you not pursue him?”

The Alakazam glanced down at his bag again, inspecting the gray badge. He shrugged. “Ah, he’s well beyond my scope,” Nevren said flatly, sitting up. “I suggest you chase him instead. I need to remain behind and modify the memories of the Pokémon he runs past again.”

Rhys cursed Star’s name and advanced. He saw the green Charmeleon enter one of the many Waypoints in the long rows. Which one was it? He ran to where it was and read it to himself. “Calm Water Lake…” He cursed Arceus’ name next. “Why must he behave so childishly…?” He supposed the revelations could have been done a bit more gradually… but he didn’t have to flee. Rhys stepped onto the Waypoint—and a flurry of vines wrapped around the metallic tile, blocking it completely.

<><><>​

Owen didn’t know how long he had been running. He just kept going. From the building, to the Waypoint, to the Dungeon. Water splashed all over; the fact that he partially enjoyed the feeling of water on his leaves was so unsettling that he had to slow down. Snoozing Pokémon stared dumbly at Owen when he passed. A particularly irritable Krabby pinched Owen’s leg, but when it did, the limb burst into an angry, writing pair of vines. The sight alone frightened the Krabby enough to scuttle away, bubbling in terror. Owen tripped over his one working leg, staring in a new mixture of emotions—annoyance and terror.

“Normal—back to normal, you stupid—” He tried to focus, but his leg kept flailing, the vines splashing in protest against the watery Dungeon. He got onto his one working foot and hobbled forward, using his hands to drag himself along the walls. His right arm disintegrated next. He fell into the water.

“P-please, please!” he cried, using his left hand to cover his eyes. But his claws were no longer there. His hands were no longer there. He gasped and stared at what they’d become—writhing tendrils covered in thorns, all the way up to his shoulders.

Owen screamed. He screamed and rolled onto his back, swinging his split arms against the rocks, creating small gashes in the sandstone. His tail and legs were gone. They, too, were ingraining themselves into the ground, into the walls, and Owen had no control over it. “Stop, stop, STOP!” Owen wailed. “PLEASE, STOP!”

Meditate, a voice said softly.

He kept swinging, trying to pull his arms together. He started by trying to get some feeling—some semblance of a feeling—of lifting his arms toward himself, to his chest. But the thorns and the vines just kept writhing and twisting ineffectually in the water like a dying insect.

Meditate, Owen. Breathe.

“H-help… someone…” Owen was nothing but a head and torso amid a tapestry of plant life.

Close your eyes and breathe.

Owen whimpered, but he obeyed. He could hear the gurgling of the vines sloshing in the loose ground beneath him. Chaotic ripples of water brushed against his feathery leaves. It slowed down. His vines stopped moving.

He took a slow, deep breath. His heart was still frantically beating away. His right arm involuntarily twitched; his eyes shot there, staring. It was back to normal. He panted, looking at the rest of him. The final few vines twisted themselves into a spiral, solidifying into a leg. He tentatively clenched his toes.

“Oh, Mew.” He covered his eyes, shaking. His breathing was uneven and trembling. He found the strength to stand back up. And he remained standing for a while, not advancing.

He was in the Dungeon already; there was no turning back. He had to keep going. And so, with step after careful step, the Charmeleon continued.

In the third segment, he spotted it: that same, strange wall, into the glowing labyrinth. It wasn’t repaired. He didn’t really know for sure if he was beyond the Dungeon’s influence yet. He’d left behind his bag, and therefore his Badge, at Rhys’ home. He was a bit glad for it, though. If he had his bag when he evolved, he might have ruined its contents from whatever happened in the Dungeon. He already had it ruined once in the fight with Aerodactyl. To ruin his spare one, too? Maybe that time, he would’ve lost all his precious items, like the Eviolite given to him by—

“Nevren…” He thought about that gift. It would still be useful to him as a Charmeleon, with one more evolutionary step to take. He stared at his claws, pressing them together. It was inconvenient to go from four fingers to three. At least his hands were bigger. The horn on the back of his head was an odd addition, though. He felt like he could sense things even more thoroughly. He was sure he could even tell what was around the corner.

He should’ve been ecstatic. He evolved. He finally evolved.

He just wished that his evolution was a bit happier than how it happened.

Someone knocked at Owen’s mental door. What an odd feeling—a thought that wasn’t his, calling for him to listen.

Owen? Owen, hello? It was the same voice that told him to meditate.

…Star?

What’s WRONG with you?! Star said, exasperated. You did the one thing I told you not to do!

C-c’mon, give me a break, they… they all just… everyone lied to me! Every single one! Mom’s immortal, Dad’s dead, turns out the leader of the world is part of some giant conspiracy, and two of my idols are in on it! And—and YOU! You forced me to do this! I didn’t even believe you existed, and now I find out you’re a LIAR!

E-excuse me?!

Owen raised his arms, mouthing his thoughts like a lunatic. He mimicked Star’s tone. Oh, Owen, it’s no big deal, just take this Orb or die! Not that hard a choice! Go on, be happy, turn your tail into a flower! Owen slammed his hand against the wall and yelped. It exploded into more vines. After a second of panic, he closed his eyes, breathed slowly, and waited for it to go back to normal. He sighed, and a few seeds spilled from his throat; he choked for a few seconds and had to stop walking to clear his chest. At least that meditation turned out to be useful for keeping his body from falling apart.

Don’t talk to me, Owen finally growled. I need to cool off.

Owen could feel Star about to protest, but then she stopped herself. Relieved, he sighed. But now he just felt guilty.

Thanks, Owen said. I’ll… I’ll talk to you later, okay? Just… not now. I need to…

Just be careful.

Owen left it at that. But his time alone with his thoughts lasted only seconds.

Turn back, turn back…!

A pang of irritation hit Owen. He quietly advanced, head down.

Go away… run…!

Or become one of us…!

Owen said nothing. He kept walking. His claws pressed into his palms.

Do you have a death wish?

We’ll kill you!

Owen didn’t even feel afraid. Not after all this. Even if they were spirits, he could still sense their intentions in how they spoke. They wouldn’t try to hurt him. They were just trying to scare him away. And he was in no mood to be spooked by even more dead Pokémon. After all, Owen thought bitterly, I’ve been with them all my life.

This isn’t a Dungeon anymo—

“I know!” Owen yelled. His voice echoed through the halls and returned to him. He shouted again. “I know!” He stomped his foot on the ground. “I know this isn’t a Dungeon, and I know you guys are spirits! I get it!” He turned around, addressing the glowing walls.

“The Water Guardian is here! I don’t care WHAT you are, okay?! I’m not here to fight! I can’t even be bothered to fight! You have no idea how rare that is with me! I’m a Guardian, too, and this was all kinda just thrown at me this morning! I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m tired, I’m confused, I’m just—” His voice cracked. “I hate… everything right now, and I just want to talk to… to someone I don’t know, who’s… who’s in my situation, okay!?”

Owen sniffed, shaking his head. He stomped his foot again, much weaker this time. It was practically only a gentle step in place. “So just—shut up, quit the haunted caves act, and let me through! O… okay?”

His voice echoed, the only living thing in the room.

When nobody responded, he gathered what energy he had left and shouted one last time. “Are you done?!”

The spirits only replied with silence, and then more silence when Owen spun to address the other half of his invisible crowd. Owen huffed and continued onward. The catharsis of finally screaming at something forced hot tears to well up, but he blinked them away. He refused to cry.

For the rest of the long walk, not a single spirit bothered him, let alone attacked. His only encounter with one of the Watery spirits was a Swampert on the far end of the cavern’s many turns. Upon seeing Owen, the spirit meekly dove into the wall to avoid confrontation.

The Grass-Typed Charmeleon went through the rest of the cave without resistance. Slowly, his thoughts transitioned from hatred of the present to fear of the future.

 

[Ambyssin]

I've got to hand it to Rhys by stepping in and immediately defusing the situation by saying the effects may only be temporary. Even if the fact that he's not surprised is a bit suspicious, I still think it's a good display of acting calm in the face of something unexpected... and I like that. I suppose I should really focus on the whole conversation thing, though. Liked the decor in Anam's office and the description had a bit of personality to it, which is always a plus in my book though others may disagree. The first part with the orbs pretty much brings Arceus' plates to mind. I think one thing this explanation is missing at the very start is why the heck these orbs exist and what the point of them is. They're powerful MacGuffins, clearly, but I have no idea why this world even has them. Even a theory would've helped build up your world a bit more. And it would've made a good lead in to the domino chain of revelations going on.

Hoo boy, let's talk about all that stuff shall we? Technically, this is an exposition dump, but framing it in a way where everything Owen knew is a lie makes it much more pleasurable to read than your typical exposition dump. I suppose the very subtle foreshadowing was there regarding Amia and Anam. She tolerated heat far too well (fire guardian) and I think Anam's coloration was slightly different? Alex being dead was likely foreshadowed in the dream sequence during the prologue when he's positively gutted. And James does a whole bunch of spoopy ghost stuff in his brief time on screen. The village bit I don't think I spotted the foreshadowing for so that definitely comes out of left field. Glad to see I was (somewhat) right about Nevren having messed with a lot of folks' memories. I gotta give credit(?) to you for just having Owen totally flip out at the revelations. That's... kind of the only expected response besides passing out, even if it is cheesy. Where you make it unique is that he runs into a dungeon as opposed to some quiet thinking place and that his freakout episode leads to an evolution. I suppose that's my biggest critique with the whole part. The body horror was intriguing... but since everything was mostly described as wriggling vines, I didn't have a clue you were writing an evolution until you flat out used "the Charmeleon" in the prose. Maybe I'm just dense, but there isn't a lot there to signify Owen's changing size and shape and you don't seem to describe the reflection he stares at in the water at all. I think it might've helped... or it's just something to keep in mind when you write his inevitable evolution into a Charizard or Grasszard or whatever.

I do still expect someone in our main cast to pull some sort of stunt that screws over the "heroes." Perhaps spirits have a way of dissociating from their guardian or maybe Nevren or Rhys will get tempted by whatever "different ideals" our Espurr friend had and act accordingly.

tl;dr: they're watching me, man. All of them are watching me! And I'm gonna get them before they get me with their mind-controlling drones!

“Grassmander?” Demitri said.

I see Demitri's ready to make some fakemon.

“Of—of course it is! I happen to shed quite a bit during the summer,” Rhys said. “I wasn’t going to put it all to waste! I made it into a cloak. I wove it with some Wurmple silk for a foundation, let it dry, and—”

Rhys ought to quit exploring and pursue his true calling... as a fashion designer: Gianni Rhysace, anyone? I'm sure we can find an Ultra Wormhole leading to the PMD equivalent of Universe 2 from Dragonball Super. :V

“Time passes differently in the spirit world,” Rhys said. “It can go as fast or as slow as it wishes, depending on the environment, and other conditions. Now then,” he said, “let’s go to the Association.”

Discount Hyperbolic Time ChamberHooray! Non-liner passage of time! I'm not alone in doing that. *sniffle*

“Sorry about Gahi,” Demitri said. “If it’s any help, er, we don’t know our real parents, either.”

I get the intention, but something about this feels... out of place. Like I'm supposed to sympathize, but given the overall context, it comes off as more of a goofy/comedic moment than anything else. XP

The Unabridged Encyclopedia of Pokémon Abilities and Techniques, Seventh Edition.

Damn, they've got discount Serebii/Bulbapedia here, too!

He gasped and stared at what they’d become—writhing tendrils covered in thorns, all the way up to his shoulders.

Hot damn... you turned Owen into the spaghetti monster!

What’s WRONG with you?! Star said, exasperated. You did the one thing I told you not to do!

Damn it, Owen, you had one job!