TEEN: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

[canisaries]

“I’m wearing YOU!” Owen said. “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.

Wow, talk about projectile vomiting.

or a Tanglea,

*Tangela

heart-shaped building. going straight for Anam’s quarters.

Period instead of comma.

“Wait, hang on,” Gahi said. “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.”

Oh my Star Gahi you can't just ask someone why they're not a Ralts.

Bulk Berry concentrate

Bluk?

Owen was close to tears. His whole world was collapsing around him. His dad was a ghost. His mom was immortal. What’s next?

You're gonna be the star of a hot new sitcom, clearly!

The cacophony in his head made the voices outside him feel like distant echoes

It was all fake.

Missing period.

“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 Association Head for centuries, let alone my existence alongside Rhys.”

I call it the Bleuralizer! Because copyrights.

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!”

It's true what you said on Discord, it really is possible to write something like this as both comedy and drama depending on how one does it. This melting-into-vines part felt far more intense and dangerous than the vine in the throat, even though the potential for being horrifying and hilarious is about equal for both. And boy was it intense! Poor Owen.

General Comments

Wasn't expecting Owen to evolve, but considering what's been revealed and the mysterious "late evolver" thing, I don't expect it to be permanent.

A lot has been revealed here and explained - we now know what was up with Alex exploding in the very intro, why Anam was described as 'glowing' while giving the speech, and probably a few other things I may have forgotten about. There's still a lot of mystery left, though, such as what caused Owen's vision of evolving and fighting Nevren that one time and what exactly is the plan of the Hunters. I was worried about how the mystery would be handled some chapters ago, but so far you've handled it awesomely imo.

One thing that felt kinda off was Gahi's reaction to Grass-Owen at the start of the chapter. It's true I don't know Gahi that well so far, but it did feel a little weird for him to just unsympathetically laugh at Owen's panic when just moments ago Owen had almost choked on a vine growing out of himself uncontrollably. Laughter is a coping mechanism, but this reaction feels like a bit too much and rather instant of a change on Gahi's part to me.

But yeah, great chapter as always! Looking forward to the next one.

 

[namohysip]

Thanks for the feedback again, you guys! I replied elsewhere, but hoo boy, get ready to meet a new character this chapter. A little on the short side this time... but a lot still goes on, heh.

Chapter 9 – Lonely Waters​

No wild Pokémon resided within these glowing caves. Unsurprising. There wasn’t much food, and it was on a strange offshoot of a Dungeon. Not the easiest place to find, let alone inhabit. Even if they showed up, perhaps the spirits would frighten them away.

Owen walked the rest of the way through the cave in silence, brooding over the morning’s events, dwelling on how his life—everything from his parents to his idols to his home—had been turned inside-out. He saw his father evaporate into nothing but a little blue ember, and then be recreated like it was nothing. How old were they? Why did they decide to adopt him? Why did they decide to adopt anyone? What if everybody in Amia’s Orb were all past kids? Was there a secret graveyard of Amia’s countless dead children?

Owen shivered. No, that was ridiculous. He’d’ve found something like that. Unless they burned the bodies in the lava river. Wait! But I play in that river all the time! Was I playing in dead bodies?! Owen shook his head furiously. No. No! Mom’s not like that. Maybe they really are just villagers from an ancient time. Why would Amia lie with another lie? Owen’s pace wavered. If I was bathing in dead Pokémon, I’m running away.

You already did that, Star quipped.

Owen jolted. H-hey! Don’t do that!

Hey, c’mon, I’m bros with your spirits. They’ll let me eavesdrop if they want me to.

Ugh, eavesdrop silently, please, Owen said. You know what? Can I block you?

I’m not telling.

So I can, Owen said, squeezing his eyes tight.

H-hey, wait! Owen, no fair, I was just—

Silence. Owen deflated, relieved.

Something was shining ahead. Latching onto anything to distract himself, he quickened his pace.

While the cave rocks in general were still a soft blue even in otherwise complete darkness, this shining was a smidge brighter than the rest. That must’ve been where the Guardian was waiting for him. Still, the darkness unnerved him. Owen wasn’t sure why. His tail swished nervously, and that’s when he realized why. This was the first time in all his life that he was in truly in the dark. His flame was gone, replaced by a useless flower. The Charmeleon pulled his tail around to inspect it. He resented the fact that they were even bigger than before. The daffodil was large enough that he could stick his snout in it.

I wish it could glow a little or something, Owen thought.

The flower suddenly lit up. “Yeek—!” Owen threw his tail, but the light persisted. He swung it back around. It wasn’t quite as bright as his flame, but it would do. It was, perhaps, the first good thing to happen to him that day.

He then eyed the glow at the end of the tunnel, reminded of why he was there. He was starting to get second thoughts about all this. After enough time walking in silence, and all that walking in the gentle darkness, he wondered if running away was really the best idea. No, of course it wasn’t. Still, they all lied to him! His flower brightened with a flicker of rage, but then dimmed.

No. He got this far. He may as well see it through. Star didn’t protest him actually seeing the Guardian, after all. Perhaps this one was friendly, too, just like Amia and Anam. The Water holder was mere steps away; the Grass-Typed Charmeleon advanced.

It was a large chamber with a rough, rocky floor. If Owen had to make a judgement on the size, it was around the same diameter as Hot Spot Square—at a full sprint, it would take Owen thirty seconds to go all the way across. Now that he thought about it, it might take less time, now that his leg span was so much longer.

Every sound Owen made echoed for what felt like eternity. Self-conscious of his own noises, he tried to walk as carefully as he could. Despite this, the gentle ticking of his claws on rock remained. He gulped, and even that noise echoed for a little while. The silence made his head feel full. There was a pressure about it.

And in this silence, he noticed that one of his steps felt different from the rest. He looked down, letting out a soft churr in curiosity. He inspected the underside of his foot and picked out what appeared to be a large, cream-colored scale. It wasn’t whole; it appeared that it had been ripped off prematurely, with a little strip of skin still attached to one side. Owen wrinkled his snout and tossed it away.

There was a circle of water in the middle of this chamber. If Owen threw hard enough, perhaps he’d be able to toss a rock in the middle of it. The water itself was completely still, like a perfect pane of glass. He hesitantly walked forward; he couldn’t see the bottom. He couldn’t find any loose rocks to figure out if it just happened to have a dark base. He was left staring into the void that was this lake.

Where was the Guardian? “Hello…?” Owen called.

Hello, hello, hello. It echoed in all directions, and then faded.

He sat down at the water’s edge. As a Grass Type, he didn’t feel as afraid of the water. It would normally sting quite a bit to get the flame on his tail wet—and there had been a few times when he accidentally extinguished it in the rain, though then his tail just emitted steam. Painfully. But he certainly tried to avoid it—his Fire attacks were next to useless in that sort of weather. But Grass…. How would he do with that? He sighed, but relented. If he was going to become a Fire Type again, he may as well enjoy the novelty of taking a dip in cool water for once. He squatted down and dipped his right leg first, wincing at the chill. He eased his way in until his knees were submerged, but couldn’t go further. The lake’s edge was too steep, and he had no idea how swimming worked.

Owen saw the water ripple near the middle, just once. Nothing had gone inside to disturb the surface other than himself. What was that? “U-uh… is someone there?” he said.

No reply. Owen figured it was just an aftereffect of dipping his legs inside, like the echoes of his voice were ripples in the air. He looked into the black water. He figured the Guardian was watching him from the very bottom. And he knew the spirits were listening in from the walls.

“…I just wanted to talk to someone in my situation,” Owen said softly, closing his eyes. “I just got this… this job, kinda. I touched an Orb that I shouldn’t have, and now I look like this, and I’m being told all these things about being a Guardian, and being involved in this long conspiracy to keep them all protected or whatever. And I just don’t get it.”

His claws gently grasped at the leaves on his knees. He was careful not to tug at them this time.

“And—and turns out, my Mom is the same way. She’s the Fire Guardian… and I dunno what that’s gonna mean, either. The way James—he’s, um, he’s the person who helps run the Thousand Heart Association—and, um, and that’s, like, this group of Pokémon that help rescue others around the world. Yeah… the way James was looking at me—it was like he wanted to send me away.” He winced.

“James wanted me to be like my Mom, who lived in that cave with just her spirits. I… I didn’t know that’s how it was for her. I think that’s why she almost never goes out. I had this dream—turns out, wasn’t a dream—where we went for a walk in the woods, and we got attacked, just like that. I almost died. But Mom healed me, and I passed out. But is that what it’s like to be a Guardian? To just be… sealed off?”

Owen leaned back, using his hands to prop himself up. He happened to land his right hand on another one of the discarded scales—he felt a soft, fleshy bit on one of the sides and winced, quickly pulling his hand up. Losing support, he fell down, knocking his horn against the rock. “Nggk—!” The ringing in his ears didn’t stop for quite a while. He clutched his forehead with his left hand while inspecting the scale with his right. It had another strip of skin on the edges that had come off with the scale. He tossed it away, but then breathed.

He continued to talk to the air. Even if nobody was listening—and he was sure at least the spirits were listening—it was therapeutic to actually unload his thoughts. There were simply too many to keep inside.

“She’s just alone in that cave. I mean… not alone alone, but her spirits, y’know? And just them… forever, maybe. I can’t imagine what that’d feel like.” He kicked his feet in the water, making more ripples like the one before. “I guess you kinda know what that feels like. If you’re listening, or your spirits. I don’t know if I want that kind of life. But wh-what’s the alternative? I… I could get killed! I didn’t even get to be a Charizard yet…! B-but maybe I never will…” Owen glanced at the flower on his tail. He wondered if it’d hurt to pluck at the petals. He didn’t want to find out.

That thought made another dawn on him. “If you’re the Water Guardian… that must mean you can become your Type, too, right? I got all grassy because of touching the Orb, so maybe that means… you’re all Watery.”

A wave of cold realization struck Owen. He jerked his legs out of the water and pulled himself back with his arms, scrambling to his feet. Water dripped from his lower half. “I’m so sorry!” he said to the lake.

The water rippled. It didn’t stop this time. Instead, it got stronger—most definitely in the middle, now—until something rose out from it. Water, but something that took a shape of its own, something serpentine. It thrust itself from the lake’s center, quickly approaching Owen, who was too surprised to move. The water landed near Owen, coiling around itself, taking a solid form. Its form transitioned from something that was entirely transparent into the normal colors of its species.

The Milotic stared down at Owen with a soft blush. Owen stared back in awe, mouth agape just enough to reveal his lower teeth. She was at least three times’ Owen’s height, even in her current stance.

“H-hello,” Owen greeted.

“Hello,” she said.

There was a silence that lasted seven seconds.

“I—”

“My—”

They had interrupted one another.

“N-no, you go—”

“Please, introduce—”

They both stopped talking again.

Owen fidgeted with his claws; the Milotic’s tail twitched. Her blush had faded.

Owen took a breath; the Water Guardian did not.

“I’m Owen,” the Charmeleon said.

“My name is Zena,” she said. “It is nice to meet you. I am sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“O-oh, no, it’s okay, I—I was kinda just talking to myself anyway, but if you heard that, I mean… that’s good, so I don’t have to repeat myself. Sorry for stepping in you.” He said the last part in a mumble.

Zena nodded. “You do not,” she said. “I’m very… sorry for your fate,” she said, “but you’re right. We have to remain separated in order to keep the power from combining.”

“S-so, as in, it’s dangerous for us to even touch?”

“No—no, nothing like that,” Zena said. “But, should we fight, perhaps, and then the winner extracts the power from the loser, well… we can’t have that.”

“O-oh, okay,” Owen said. “…But… I heard that it’s starting to be dangerous to stay away. W-wait! Um—yesterday, I saw a Torkoal come this way, I think. Is that, um, is that someone you know?”

“He was not,” Zena said. “I dispatched of him.”

“D-dispatched?”

“He was a Hunter,” Zena replied. “They are the ones that we hide from. A Pokémon that intends to find us… and take our power. By any means necessary.”

Owen didn’t ask further. Instead, he looked down at the water, and then at Zena again. “Um… how… how long have you been here?” he asked.

Zena hesitated. “I do not know.”

“H-how long, um—before that Torkoal came, how long has it been since… someone came here? At all?”

She shook her head again.

“Do you at least know Star?”

“I… I do,” she said. “And we talk from time to time, just as I talk with my spirits, I suppose.”

“…But it’s not enough,” he said.

Zena glanced away. “I suppose it isn’t,” she said. “But it’s… it’s still dangerous for us to converse with one another, isn’t it? If a Hunter finds us… they could potentially get two Orbs, not just the one.”

“A-actually, we were thinking, um, that it’s kinda dangerous to be separated, now, because, like, there’s this thing, um, it’s this theory,” Owen trailed off. “Like they can detect us now. They’d pick us off one by one. So instead, maybe strength in numbers?”

“Strength in numbers,” Zena said. “You mentioned that your mother is the Fire Guardian. Is there anybody else?”

“Association Head Anam—he’s another Guardian. I don’t think I caught what Type.”

“I see,” Zena said slowly. She was quiet, mulling over Owen’s words. The Grass Guardian, meanwhile, took the time to look over Zena again. The way her scales reflected the dim light—and in particular, the way she glowed in the same way the Hot Spot mushrooms did. Bitterly, Owen realized that the glow he’d been so accustomed to was no doubt a reflection of his mother’s Guardianship. But he couldn’t deny how comforting the light was, so he gazed a while longer at Zena’s scales.

“…Why are you looking at me in that way?” Zena asked.

“Sorry!” Owen’s entire body stiffened upright; even his tail stood alert.

She glared at him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Hmph!” Zena turned her head away.

“N-no, it’s not like that!” Owen waved his claws in front of him. “I didn’t think you were pretty! I—I mean, wait, wait, you are pretty! But—but I—”

“You’d best choose your next words carefully,” Zena hissed.

“I like your glow!” Owen blurted.

Zena flinched.

Owen covered his mouth. “I—I mean… you…” he hesitated, bringing his arms down. “C’mon, I mean, you’re a Milotic. You guys are just naturally really pretty. And that whole Guardian glow you have going on in these caves really makes it look nice, and stuff.”

Five seconds passed with just Owen’s echoing voice filling the void.

“W-well,” Zena said, looking at the wall. “Thank you.”

Owen shifted awkwardly, looking at Zena again. This time, he looked her tail over, how the creamy, prismatic scales transitioned into stained glass that Owen would have expected from a temple for Arceus. Owen sensed another glare and immediately brought his head down. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I only saw your kind in books before.”

“Books?” Zena repeated. Her eyes narrowed again. “What kind of—" But then, suddenly, the Milotic jerked her head up, startling Owen with the sudden movement. “Another Hunter is coming,” she said.

“Wh-what?”

“Yes. We need to go,” she said.

“Go?”

“If you want strength in numbers, then—then I’ll humor you,” she said. “But we need to hide. The tunnel,” she pointed with one of her eyebrows at the dark lake. “It leads to a river outside. Can you swim?”

“I kinda used to be a Fire Type.”

“Then I will be the current that guides you,” she said. “Please, get in.”

She slithered into the lake and vanished, melting into the water. Owen’s old instincts were telling him to stay as far away from the water as possible—especially for a swim—but he knew he’d be fine in this current, Grassy form. His tail glowed brightly.

“If you say so,” Owen said. He jumped in, expecting a frightening sting, but instead, it merely felt cold. He held his breath and felt the water rush around him. It was pushing him down, deeper into the tunnel; the water pressure wasn’t that bad, either. It seemed like Zena was pushing against the rest of the water, making it a little easier on his body.

At first, it seemed like he’d have an easy time going through. His lungs felt a bit of strain—he’d never held his breath for very long in the past—but hopefully Zena would keep him going.

But then, Owen felt a rush of heat in his chest. He glanced down; his green, leafy scales were solidifying, becoming yellower. His arms were turning red.

Rhys said he’d go back to normal eventually.

Why now?! He looked behind him; the flower on his tail was wilting. Bubbles of steam were coming out from the burning bud. The water was starting to feel less pleasant. And it wasn’t getting any easier to hold his breath, either. No, no! Just a little longer…! C’mon!

He couldn’t hold his breath for much longer. He couldn’t see anything in these tunnels—it was too dark. His flower wasn’t glowing anymore, and his flame was slowly coming back.

Pressure built in his chest. The need to breathe was too strong. In an effort to relieve some of that pressure, Owen puffed out, releasing some of the air. That only made him want to breathe in again. He flailed his arms and legs, trying to warn Zena that he wasn’t going to last much longer. Zena, the water, could not respond, but the water did rush faster. Owen had to close his eyes—the pressure against his face was too much.

He felt it. He was a Fire Type again. He felt the horrible sting of near-freezing water around his whole body, like acid, particularly against his tail. He also felt his lungs give way—and in a sharp intake, water filled his chest. The shock made Owen pass out.


Owen was floating in a black void, on his back. His lungs felt… tight. Like he couldn’t move them. Voices filled his head. They felt like memories from long ago. Forgotten.

“Who’re you gonna fight, Owen?”

Owen’s mouth moved in the darkness. He spoke, despite his lungs being filled with water. “Gonna fight… Demitri….”

“Baah, always Demitri. How about Mispy?”

“No way…” Owen said. “She’ll kill me…”

“But she’s a Grass Type, c’mon!”

“Gahi, she’ll kill me. That Solarbeam… is insane…”

“Feh, then why don’t yeh fly and make it easier ter dodge?”


Owen gasped and opened his eyes. “Solarbeam,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” Zena turned back. “Oh, you’re finally awake.”

The sun was setting. It was starting to get colder. They were near a river, but closer to the ocean. There was a beach further down, where the grass transitioned into sand, with Wingull circling over the shore line. The air was salty. Owen sat up—his entire body ached.

“Ugh… what happened?”

“You drowned,” Zena said. “I was waiting for your body to recover.”

“D-drowned?!” Owen said. “Why didn’t you—w-wait, did you—” his face flushed.

“Did I what?” Zena asked. “I waited for your body to fix itself.”

“Th-the body doesn’t fix drowning!” Owen said.

“For a Guardian, it does,” Zena said. “I set you down once we escaped, and waited for your heart to start beating again—”

“MY HEART STOPPED?!”

Zena, annoyed, said, “Yes. Is this truly that new to you?”

“K-kinda! I feel like I should be dead right about now!”

“So long as their body remains mostly intact,” Zena said, “Guardians can live and recover from any injury. It’s known as being Mystic.”

“Mystic,” Owen slowly repeated. “So, all Guardians are Mystic?”

“Yes,” Zena said.

“But, that’s the same thing, then. What other things are Mystic?”

“Well, I imagine Star is Mystic, even if she guards no particular Orb. The Hunters are also Mystic, though I wouldn’t consider them Guardians.”

“O-oh,” Owen said. “Okay. So, just people who have power related to the Orbs.” He looked at his claws. He still felt… soggy. But at least he could breathe again. Something felt different, too. He felt stronger. Maybe that was just how his flame burned a bit hotter as a Charmeleon.

“You mentioned… Solarbeam,” Zena said.

“Huh? Solarbeam?” he asked.

“When you woke up. Were you trying to learn Solarbeam? After all, you’re the Grass Guardian.”

“Oh, uh, no, I…” He rubbed his head. “I can’t remember. I must’ve been having some kind of weird dream from bad oxygen. It happened before. I was climbing a mountain with one of the Elite Hearts, and when I meditated there, I had a crazy dream, too. Ugh, that’s two times that I got a weird dream. I need a break.”

Zena smiled slightly. “Today has had the most talking I’ve ever heard from a stranger in a very long time,” she said. “You’re quite chatty.”

Owen looked down. “Sorry.”

Zena tilted her head. “I meant I enjoy it. You apologize quite often, too.”

“Oh.” Owen tried to think of something else to talk about, but his mind drew a blank. He considered talking about the weather, but decided against it.

“Owen… do you know where we are?”

“Um, well… the sun’s setting that way… so I think we’re at a southern beach, right?” He turned around. “So that means… the Thousand Heart Association is—there! Look, d’you see that mountain with the flat top?” he said, pointing up. It was hard to see past the southern forest, but the distinct, black rocks of Kilo Mountain were clearly visible through the gaps.

“Yes. That was there even before I began my hiding…. Has anything changed about it?”

“That’s Kilo Village at the top, in the crater. The volcano is extinct and, uh… yeah. That’s where I go for rescue missions and things like that. I bet Anam will know what to do!”

“Anam…” Zena said. “He’s another Guardian? Star mentioned him before. But she doesn’t talk a lot about the other Guardians—I think it’s to… keep us from wanting to meet them in person. But, Owen, I’m… not sure. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Don’t know what?” Owen asked.

“If it’s a good idea to go there,” she said. “The Orbs. They’re supposed to….”

“Not anymore. C’mon, let’s just go!” Owen said.

“I…. But what would I say? How much has changed?”

Owen hesitated. “I dunno, but it should be fine! C’mon, I can show you around.”

Zena hesitated, looking at the Charmeleon. “How are you so sure?” she said. The Milotic curled her long body, tensing her muscles. She waited for a response that would assure her.

“Because,” he trailed off. “I mean, well…”

“Did you not just rant about how everything you know has been a great lie?” Zena asked. “I believe you used similar terminology.”

“Y-yeah, but, only some, not everything….”

“But didn’t some of that everything happen to be your own parents, and your idols?” Zena said.

“…Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi didn’t know, either,” Owen said. “I trust them. And… and Rhys is the one who wants the Guardians to stay together, too.”

Zena blinked. “What was his name? Rhys?” he said.

“Yeah, Rhys,” Owen said. “What?”

“Lucario Rhys?” Zena said.

“H-huh? Yeah.”

“We are not going to Kilo Village,” Zena said.

“W-wait, but why—”

“Rhys is one of the Hunters.”

 

[Ambyssin]

Man, what is it with the PMD stories I read having upset Charmeleons lost in their own angry thoughts or just saying them out loud like they're losing their minds? I'm starting to sense a pattern here. Not that I think there's anything wrong with how you approached Owen's continuing mental breakdown. It's not even all that melodramatic, likely because when he's just talking out loud he's tripping so much over his own words that it almost doesn't sound coherent. It's a wonder Zena is even able to gleam anything from that, since if it wasn't for the accompanying internal monologue it likely wouldn't have made all that much sense. Basically, Owen needs a Snickers right about now.

Then we actually get to Zena's introduction and she is a precious cinnamon roll who needs protection. So help me if you kill her off or something bad like that I'm-a definitely rage-quit the story. that one was a joke, pls don't hurt me ;~; In all seriousness, I think Zena's the first shy Milotic I've come across in a fic... not that I've come across very many Milotics in fics. *cough* Still, I like the chemistry with Owen and the incredibly awkward ship teasing. Seriously, when the girl can turn herself into water and she carries Owen away as a big current... well, how else am I supposed to look at it as anything other than a giant innuendo? He's technically inside her and things like pain and struggling to breath can happen during sex. You brought this one on yourself, buddy. :V

I do think that it's odd that Owen basically dies again... for, like, the third time in the first 10 parts. I'm okay with it, since I think the transition back into a fire-type while stuck underwater was cool, but I do caution that you risk burning out readers' suspensions of disbelief when characters can bounce back from stuff like this more frequently than the cast of Dragon Ball Z/Super. I suppose this is a bit mitigated by the fact that the Hunters have similar levels of immortality, meaning the good guys will have to come up with something clever to win and I'm curious as to what, exactly, that will be. And don't think I don't have anything to say about Owen's little memory. Despite all the revelations, I don't think Owen's and Team Alloy's memory tampering specifically was addressed yet. This memory seems to suggest that, not only were their memories tampered with, they all might've even been devolved from the final evolutions somehow. After all, how else can Owen fly away from a Solar Beam? Is it possible Nevren invented a device that could do that? Magitek is a hell of a drug, I suppose.

Was there a secret graveyard of Amia’s countless dead children?

And how many times has she started her turn by playing Pot of Greed, allowing her to draw TWO MORE CARDS?

Ugh, eavesdrop silently, please, Owen said. You know what? Can I block you?

Owen's orb-brain works like Discord, apparently.

I wish it could glow a little or something, Owen thought.

The flower suddenly lit up.

Congratulations! Your OWEN learned TAIL GLOW! ... fucking hacker.

The Milotic stared down at Owen with a soft blush. Owen stared back in awe, mouth agape just enough to reveal his lower teeth. She was at least three times’ Owen’s height, even in her current stance.

“…Why are you looking at me in that way?” Zena asked.

“Sorry!” Owen’s entire body stiffened upright; even his tail stood alert.

She glared at him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Hmph!” Zena turned her head away.

“N-no, it’s not like that!” Owen waved his claws in front of him. “I didn’t think you were pretty! I—I mean, wait, wait, you are pretty! But—but I—”

“You’d best choose your next words carefully,” Zena hissed.

“I like your glow!” Owen blurted.

Zena flinched.

Owen covered his mouth. “I—I mean… you…” he hesitated, bringing his arms down. “C’mon, I mean, you’re a Milotic. You guys are just naturally really pretty. And that whole Guardian glow you have going on in these caves really makes it look nice, and stuff.”

Five seconds passed with just Owen’s echoing voice filling the void.

“W-well,” Zena said, looking at the wall. “Thank you.”

Everything about this exchange is just... *chef kissing gesture* Owen x Zena OTP.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I only saw your kind in books before.”

“Books?” Zena repeated. Her eyes narrowed again. “What kind of—"

PMD world confirmed to have lewd magazines. I'm not even sure how that would work. XD

“For a Guardian, it does,” Zena said. “I set you down once we escaped, and waited for your heart to start beating again—”

“MY HEART STOPPED?!”

Owen is now Discount Goku.

 

[canisaries]

Still, the darkness unnerved him. Owen wasn’t sure why. His tail swished nervously, and that’s when he realized why. This was the first time in all his life that he was in truly in the dark. His flame was gone, replaced by a useless flower.

True! Nice touch.

He inspected the underside of his foot and picked out

This sentence cuts in half, and unfortunately it seemed kind of like an important one as I got confused about the environment. There was a cave small enough to run across in thirty seconds (though it was still described as large?), then there was a rather big pond Owen somehow didn't see before.

Losing support, he fell down, knocking his horn against the rock.

ow

The water landed near Owen, coiling around itself, taking a solid form.

The Milotic stared down at Owen with a soft blush. Owen stared back in awe, mouth agape just enough to reveal his lower teeth. She was at least three times’ Owen’s height, even in her current stance.

The Grass Guardian, meanwhile, took the time to look over Zena again. The way her scales reflected the dim light—and in particular, the way she glowed in the same way the Hot Spot mushrooms did. Bitterly, Owen realized that the glow he’d been so accustomed to was no doubt a reflection of his mother’s Guardianship. But he couldn’t deny how comforting the light was, so he gazed a while longer at Zena’s scales.

Hmm, so I'm not 100% sure - is Zena a normally colored Milotic or a water-colored (aka, well, blue) one? She's mentioned taking a solid form, but I didn't catch any mention of a change in color.

“He was a Hunter,” Zena replied.

nice job on facing the WATER guardian as a FIRE type bud, guess someone got too confident about their Mysticism

“Books?” Zena repeated. Her eyes narrowed again. “What kind of—"

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He held his breath and felt the water rush around him. It was pushing him down, deeper into the tunnel; the water pressure wasn’t that bad, either. It seemed like Zena was pushing against the rest of the water, making it a little easier on his body.

this is definitely a sex

The Molitic

*Milotic

“Rhys is one of the Hunters.”

BROOOOOOOOOO

Well, it does shed some light on him having a connection to the Espurr from before. I'm speculating he's a heel-face? Zena's been in that pond for quite some time, guessing she doesn't have the most up-to-date information - apparent from her way of speaking as well.

Looking forward to the next chap!

 

[namohysip]

Chapter 10 – The Hunters’ Mission​

“But… but Rhys is cool,” Owen said.

The Charmeleon had stopped walking the moment Zena told him that Rhys was a Hunter. It simply didn’t make sense. No… no, it did. It added up. But it didn’t make sense to Owen anyway. Rhys was too noble. He was an Elite Heart. How could he be a murderer, too?

“That Lucario is the one who nearly killed me.” Zena’s tail twitched, flexing the fan at the tip. “He is the reason I spent lifetimes sealed away.”

“But… but he gave me the Orb! I mean, he didn’t—I mean, he was holding the Orb, but he never claimed it, and, um, and also, like—when I took it, he didn’t want to hurt me at all! M-maybe you’re thinking of his great grandfather or something? Like, Rhys is just a really strong Lucario. He’s not a Guardian or anything. He doesn’t glow! So, he can’t be, um, un-aging and stuff like us.” Nevren had said that they didn’t age for another reason. Was that because—

“Hunters don’t age. He could easily be the same Lucario.” She coiled around herself a bit tighter, staring intensely at Owen. “Tell me. Did he specialize in aura attacks?”

“I—I mean, what Lucario doesn’t, right?” Owen tittered nervously. He shrank before the serpent. He knew that Zena could see the helpless defiance in his eyes.

The Milotic did not break her stare. “Are you sure? Do you truly believe that Rhys won’t harm you, should you appear before him now?”

Owen gulped, looking at his chest. He was glad to be back to his fiery self again. It felt right. But would Rhys try to kill him? That Lucario…. He was stern, certainly. And perhaps he’d punish him with more meditation, or something like that. Perhaps, as well, he was a bit too harsh with his training regimen. But… he simply couldn’t imagine Rhys wanting to hurt him. Something at the very core of his being was telling him that he could trust Rhys. But at the same time, why did he feel that way? He just met him, didn’t he?

“I don’t know.” The words tumbled out of him, but they were the truth. “I feel like I can trust him! But at the same time, he could… if he wanted, he could easily… couldn’t he? Well, I feel like he’d just force me to meditate, like he always di—” Owen blinked a few times. What? When did Rhys ever force him to meditate? That never happened. That was Demitri and the others. He grew up with Amia and Alex—his adoptive parents. They were the ones who—

“Owen? Are you okay?” Zena asked, tilting her head.

“H-huh? Oh. I’m fine. Um… b-but I really… I don’t know! If you’re with me, maybe he’ll hear me out, and not attack you? If he’s still like that? No… I—he’s too nice. If he wanted to, he could’ve killed me right at the beginning, when I first got the Orb!”

“Regardless of his actions before,” Zena said, “he may have second thoughts. He is still a Hunter, and it is their very purpose to track down and gather the Orbs at all costs. And right now, we are two Guardians, possessing two Orbs. That may be an opportunity too tempting to ignore.”

Owen played with the scales at the base of his claws. Zena had a point. Why would Rhys be chasing after them in the first place? Why Rhys specifically, if he knew that this would be the Water Guardian? But Owen’s gut still told him that Rhys was safe. He never sensed any ounce of malice in his body language. He was good at spotting those things, for as long as he could remember! But… what if Zena was right? What if he got tempted? What if that malice… came back?

Owen’s legs felt weak. He walked to a nearby, sandy rock and sat against it. Waves washed upon the shoreline two times before he spoke again. “Rhys… could kill me…”

“He very well could,” Zena said. She slithered a bit closer, but hesitated to get within arm’s reach of him. “And you aren’t nearly strong enough to defend yourself against him.”

“But… b-but he’s my… I trusted him,” Owen said. “There’s no way he’d....!”

“Are you willing to risk your life to see if you are correct?” Zena said.

The ocean brushed against the sand. Owen smelled the salt in the air. Wingull squawked at one another, bickering over a carcass. He clenched the claws of his feet a few times in the sandy grass. He felt hot. His face, especially. His chest hurt. Something in the back of his eyes burned. His vision blurred. The Charmeleon trembled, clawing at his knees. “Everyone I knew…”

“Owen…” Zena said softly. She finally broke past her hesitation and slithered even closer. She used a brow to rub his head. “It’s okay. It’s… okay. Even if Rhys is dangerous, the others are still your friends. And your mother, Owen. What Charizard would harm their own child?”

“Um, a-actually, my Mom’s a Gardevoir… I don’t know my real parents.”

“Oh, I’m—”

Owen shook his head. “But either way, it’s… it’s all the same. You’re right. There’s no way she’d want to hurt me. She raised me! She—” Owen’s heart skipped a beat. “Mom! She’s with Rhys…! And she’s a Guardian!” He sprung to his feet, as if that action would somehow give him an idea on what to do next.

He felt a strange tingling on the scales on his back. The air felt… sharp, like it cut into his lungs, and a sinking feeling twisted his stomach into a knot. What was this power that he could feel? He’d never had such a sensation before. He was used to having a vague sense of what was around the corner, or even in the other room. But this? This was new.

At the same time, Zena stared toward Kilo Mountain. “He’s coming,” she said. “How did he know we were here? Who could have…?”

Owen realized that what he was sensing was something Zena sensed, too. He closed his eyes. He heard the rapid footsteps of something bipedal. He recognized the pattern--it was Rhys, without a doubt. He also heard another sound, a lot more rapid, with smaller legs. Hard knocking on sandy dirt. Angry chittering. That pattern was equally familiar. It was a Trapinch, going much faster than it should for its species. “Gahi, too.”

Zena coiled around herself, preparing to launch everything she had at the incoming duo.

“D-don’t hurt Gahi. He’s a Trapinch, and he’s—he’s not involved in any of this!”

Zena said nothing, but she was clearly aiming for Rhys. Owen turned toward the source of the sound again. Louder. He only had a few seconds to react. Was this really Rhys attempting to kill them? Why would he chase them all the way down here? Why couldn’t he hear his mother’s running pattern? Because she wasn’t there. It was just Rhys and Gahi.

“Owen!” Rhys shouted, jumping between two trees, into plain view.

Zena fired. The beam of water was simultaneously wide and dense, and it was a perfect shot. Rhys held his paws forward with an Aura Sphere-like shield to deflect the blast. Gahi, trailing behind, dove behind a tree to avoid the scattered beams of water, shouting something angrily. When the Hydro Pump stopped, and the mist faded, Rhys remained. Zena’s attack was completely neutralized by the shield.

Gahi stared in horror at the gaping hole left in the tree that he’d been hiding behind. The deflected beams had missed him by only a head’s length.

For that one instant, the world stood still for Owen. It all clicked in his mind at once. He felt Zena’s coils wind in defensive terror beside him. Almost out of empathy, his muscles tensed in a similar way. His heart was pounding against his neck. Rhys had deflected one of the most powerful attacks Owen had ever seen.

He had been ready for that attack. He was expecting it. He knew. Owen’s claws dug into his palms; his tail blazed with a shining, green flame.

The last of the mist faded. Zena’s words echoed in his thoughts.

Rhys is one of the Hunters.

The Lucario let out a pant. “Owen, I—”

The Charmeleon opened with a plume of fire. It was easily blocked, but Owen followed up by lunging forward. He wasn’t using words anymore, just roars and grunts. Rhys deftly blocked every hit with little pulses of aura from his paws, stepping backwards with each lunge Owen made.

“Owen, enough!” Rhys said.

“You—what did you do—what did you do to Mom?!” Owen shouted.

“Your mother?! What in the world do you mean?!”

Owen roared and blasted Rhys with fire, point-blank. He couldn’t deflect this one, and his upper body was briefly alight. This was too much for Rhys to tolerate. With a single blow and a grunt of anger, Rhys swiped his paw toward Owen and created a small sphere on his side. It exploded, and blasted Owen with a shockwave of aura force. He slammed into a tree and cried in pain when his left shoulder dislocated itself, and his left leg broke in two places. A few ribs probably got fractured, too. There was a large welt on his right side where the aura had exploded, and some scales had been blasted off, too. He crumpled to the ground; it hurt too much to move.

Zena spewed another beam of water at Rhys, but the Hunter jumped to the right in a blue blur. Zena blinked and lost track of him. She turned toward Owen and saw Rhys there instead, kneeling down. Rhys’ eyes were narrowed with concern.

“You won’t!” Zena shouted. “Get away from him! Or I’ll fire again! I won’t miss!”

“If you do miss, you will hit Owen,” Rhys said calmly. He didn’t even react to her.

“It’s… it’s a risk I’ll take to stop you, you—murderer!”

“Murderer,” Rhys repeated softly. He inspected Owen, who only glared. Flames danced out of his mouth. “Your mother is worried about you, Owen. Your father, too.”

“You’re a Hunter,” Owen said. “Zena… Zena told me! You… you killed Guardians like me!”

“Owen.” Rhys closed his eyes. “If I wanted to kill, then you two would already be dead.”

“N-no way!” Owen said. “I’d totally beat you if… if I wanted to! I’m a Guardian! I survived drowning!”

“Drowning,” Rhys said with a snort. “You took a quarter of the day, I imagine, just to recover from that. Do you really think a Hunter would kill a Guardian by drowning them?”

Owen gulped. “Y-yeah, well, I bet I could survive… a lot of things, now.” His eyes darted to the left and right, searching for some sort of opening. Owen focused on a tree behind Rhys. The Lucario followed his gaze—just what Owen wanted. He spewed a wad of fire at Rhys the moment he looked away. In a single, deft motion, Rhys brought his arm up and blocked the blast with another aura shield.

Owen flinched, and Rhys looked at him with a knowing glare. Owen had no escape.

“You cannot survive much,” Rhys said. “Divine energy from the Orb sustains you, even if your very heart stops. However, great injury to your body disrupts that flow. If someone wished to kill you… they would. And they can. Just because you are Mystic does not mean you are invincible. Look at you, Owen.” He shook his head. “A body half broken already. If I aimed for your head,” he pointed out, “the Grass Orb would be without a host once more.”

Owen envisioned Rhys doing just that. Moving his paw just a bit further up. He would’ve been headless. Just like that. He thought back to the Aerodactyl. He still would have been paralyzed from the waist down from his strikes. And if he was rejected from the Dungeon, some opportunistic wild Pokémon still could have feasted on his unconscious body.

Owen’s sense of mortality returned to him. When that happened, the Charmeleon thought his heart had stopped again.

“You can’t even stand.”

“I can totally stand!” Owen used his good arm and clawed at the air in front of Rhys.

Rhys waited.

He kept clawing and tried to sit. In the end, he couldn’t. The most he could do was prop himself up. His arm trembled, and he fell again.

Gahi waddled out from the tree he’d been hiding in. “Lighten up, Firebutt,” Gahi said. “Yer beat. And you! Pretty lady! You calm down, too! Rhys ain’t gonna hurt anybody.”

“P-pretty lady?” Zena flushed red.

“Can you stand, Owen?” Rhys asked again. Despite his neutral tone, Owen sensed that he was mocking him.

“Nrgh.” Owen’s tail twitched. “I don’t feel like it.” He exhaled a defeated plume of smoke. It tasted like roasted seeds.

Rhys sighed and looked up at the trees. He inspected the tops, and then looked at Zena. She didn’t take her eyes off of him, waiting for any sudden movements. Rhys, recognizing this, moved slowly, gently, raising his arm to point up. Zena didn’t change her focus. Right at Rhys.

“There is a ripe Oran Berry in the trees. I intend to harvest it for Owen. Milotic Zena, will you allow me to do this?”

“You will move slowly,” Zena said.

Rhys obeyed. Every step was deliberate, and he pointed the pad of his paw toward the berry. The tiniest of Aura Spheres appeared there, and he fired, knocking it off of the tree. It landed nearby. Rhys took step after deliberate step toward the berry, and then leaned down to pick it up.

At this point, Gahi was shaking with impatience, pacing in a rapid circle nearby. He mumbled something about being able to do this seven times by the time he finished once.

Finally, Rhys returned to Owen and handed him the berry.

“How can a berry help him?” Zena said. “They’re a pick-me-up. They only provide energy, as all food would. Oran Berries are useless for injuries like that.”

Owen glanced at Zena confusedly.

“Is—is it not?” Zena asked.

Owen grabbed the berry and took a bite, chewing awkwardly while lying on the ground. A soft glow flowed from Owen’s throat to the rest of his body, barely visible if it wasn’t for the darkness of twilight.

“Hold still,” Rhys said. With a firm push, he snapped Owen’s arm back into its socket, eliciting a loud, suppressed grunt from the Charmeleon. He then moved to his broken leg. “Are you ready, Owen?”

Owen whimpered.

“I’ll do it on three. One—” Rhys snapped them in place. Owen didn’t cry out that time; his eyes watered, and he gritted his teeth, but the most noise that came was from the air rapidly moving through his nostrils.

“Thank you,” he said in a high-pitched voice.

“Eat your berry.”

Owen awkwardly ate at the berry using his good arm, still lying on the ground. A glow emanated from his throat that was only visible due to the darkness of twilight. It pulsed throughout the rest of his body—while bruised, Owen felt much better. Bones repaired themselves; he felt like he could breathe deeply again. He sighed and deflated after the final bite, idly licking at his claws.

“Oran Berries have been greatly enhanced since your time, Zena,” Rhys said. “They have been blessed by Goodra Anam, leader of the Hearts, who doubles as a sort of… priest, if you will. Most Oran Berries you see in the world today carry that blessing. This is especially true for content found in Dungeons, which have, too, been blessed. Prior, they were much less welcoming.”

“Blessing,” Zena repeated. “Priest. What sort of cult do you run?”

“It’s not much of a cult if you can see actual results, now is it?” Rhys asked, motioning to the fiery Grass Guardian. “For smaller Pokémon like Owen, a single berry is enough to fully restore them to fighting health.”

Owen grunted and stood up. He didn’t know what to think anymore. He’d gone past the panic and despair and slipped into frustration and anger again. The same anger that made him yell at Zena’s spirits. Even if he was healed, his older thoughts returned to him, now that he no longer feared for his life. He glared at Rhys. “Who are you?”

“...I am Lucario Rhys, Elite Heart of Kilo Village. I am a former Hunter of the Guardians.” Rhys looked to Zena. “Owen is very good at detecting lies and malevolence. He is very in-tune with body language, and he knows if I intend to strike him, even if it is as a surprise. Owen, do you sense anything from me that suggests I would want to hurt you?”

Owen looked up. He could feel it, yes. He didn’t know it was some sort of talent of his, but he was always very aware of his surroundings, including those close to him. And he could sense Rhys’ paw twitching irritably. His muscles were tense from the battle. His brow was furrowed with hidden impatience, invisible thanks to his fur, but the tension was there.

Rhys did want to hurt him… but not in the way Zena thinks. No. Rhys was holding himself back from smacking him on the head. He could imagine Rhys telling him to stop acting so immaturely, so rashly, so childishly. He wanted him to be a proper Heart. He could hear the lecture about how, had this been done on a mission, innocents could get hurt, or worse.

Owen finally straightened, but then brought his head down. He rubbed his nose with his arm.

Zena’s eyes softened, just barely. “Very well. But do not think you’ve convinced me, Hunter.”

“Great, great, that’s all nice and good,” Gahi said, clicking his jaws to get their attention. “But as yeh may’ve noticed, it’s pretty much twilight at this point, and I’m tired, and I haven’t had dinner yet, and maybe we can get this rolling along? Oy, Rhys, y’got yer Badge? I wanna go back ter Kilo. I hate rivers, and I hate oceans. I’d rather get eaten than drown someplace like this. We gonna go?”

“Why did you even come, then?” Rhys said in a hiss that was only half-controlled.

“Well, yeh had that story about Mystics an’ all that ter tell me on the way,” Gahi said. “Was the first story yeh ever told that wasn’t boring.”

Owen sensed Rhys wanted to hit Gahi, too. The left half of his lips twitched upward, and he couldn’t hide his brightening flame. He shook his head to keep composed and looked to the Water Guardian.

“Zena,” Owen said. “Even if Rhys is a Hunter… I mean, there’s no way Goodra Anam would allow him to do anything. If we go to Kilo Village, we’ll be safe. And I think Anam is way stronger than Rhys is.”

“Perhaps not way stronger,” Rhys growled. He looked at Gahi. “Very well. I have the Badge. If Zena will allow me to look through my supplies, I will get it.”

“You may,” Zena said slowly. “But if I am to follow, expect me to be ten paces behind you. I refuse to walk beside the likes of you.”

Rhys winced. But Owen also sensed a tension in Rhys’ throat, too. Owen gently rubbed at his own, trying to get an idea of what the feeling was supposed to be. The Charmeleon realized then that Rhys had a figurative lump in his throat.

“...What’s a pace fer you?” Gahi said, observing her lack of limbs.

The Milotic glared.

“Feh.” Gahi shuffled behind Owen. He tried to be casual, but Owen noticed his tremble.

Rhys pulled out the Association Badge.

“And that will help us home, how?” Zena asked.

“It’ll bring us back to town,” Owen said. “It can only really bring back four people at a time or so. We usually bring more Badges in case we have to rescue a bunch at once, so then we can still get back ourselves.” Owen recalled what he’d read about the Badges functionality and limits. “You can key it in to other locations to warp to if you configure it while you’re there, but by default, if you just tap the little heart button in the middle once, you’ll go to the Central Waypoint. Easy. I’d’ve set my new Badge to go to Hot Spot Cave, but… it’s been a really hectic few days lately…”

“Oh?” Zena tilted her head. “What’s a Waypoint?”

“Oh, wow,” Owen said. “You have been gone for a while. Um… it’s… this thing where you have to stand on it, and then once you do, it will activate, and then you’ll go to its corresponding tile somewhere else in the world—so, in this case, the one in Kilo Village. Nevren invented it.” Owen looked at the Badge. “This Badge has the same sort of energy. It’s weaker, and it has to recharge… but it is tied to the Waypoints or other areas you register with it.”

“I see… Waypoints can be used as much as we want, but they’re stuck at two specific locations. But these Badges can be used anywhere, but require energy. What an interesting system. Very well. If you are confident in this… thing, I will put my faith in you, Owen.”

Owen caught a twitch of irritation from Rhys, but he figured he deserved that one.

“Owen,” Rhys said, “why don’t you use it?”

Owen nodded, took the Badge, and thrust it in the air. He clicked the button once. In a split-second, they reappeared in Kilo Village, just in time to see a small team, led by Anam, heading for Calm Water Lake’s Waypoint. The others accompanying him were Decidueye James and Alakazam Nevren.

“Whoa, wait! L-look!” Anam said, pointing.

“H-hi, guys!” Owen hesitated. In the rush of events, he finally remembered what had happened. Wasn’t he supposed to be angry at them? But, now that he had time to think… “I’m… I’m sorry for running off,” he said. “I just—I wanted to clear my head, and—”

Zena stared, wide-eyed, at the countless buildings that surrounded her. Owen was glad they came when there weren’t any Pokémon passing by, or the isolated Milotic would have been completely overwhelmed.

“A-and this is Zena! She’s, um, she’s the Water Guardian.”

Zena tensed and looked away. “H-h-hel…”

“Hi, Zena!” Anam waved. “It’s good to meet you!”

“Ahh, the Water Guardian, I see,” Nevren said. He stepped forward and held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zena. I am sorry if this is beyond your favored conditions.”

“Y-yes, thank…” Zena held out an eyebrow for him to shake.

“Zena, are you okay?” Owen asked.

“Give her time, Owen,” Nevren said. “She has not spoken to so many strangers in a very long while, I imagine. This will take time to adjust.”

“She spoke just fine with Rhys…” But he wondered if it was easier for her to yell at someone she hated than to talk to someone new. Didn’t explain why she spoke so easily with him, however. Owen figured it was because he was just one little Charmeleon, and this was a gang of elites and Gahi.

“Owen!” Demitri shouted from the top of the Heart stairway. “H-hey! You’re back to normal!”

Mispy was next to Demitri, and both of them rushed down to meet with the rest of their team.

“Yeah, so much fer being funny ter look at,” Gahi said. “How’s it feel ter be Fire again, anyway?”

“Good,” Owen said immediately.

Mispy glared.

“S-so.” Owen avoided Mispy’s eyes. “How did… Rhys find us?”

“He ran ahead ter get yeh,” Gahi said. “Said he knew where yeh’d be. Maybe he sensed yer Mystic aura, y’know?”

“I am familiar with the underwater channel that Zena used,” Rhys said. “Once I figured out where you had gone, I decided to follow you there. Unfortunately, there isn’t a Waypoint designated to that part of the southern shoreline, as no Dungeon had ever formed in that location. I had to go on foot. Gahi was the only one who could realistically keep up.”

“O-oh.” Owen thought about what Zena had said. A Hunter had been chasing after them. Did Rhys chase her through those channels before? What stopped him from…?

Zena looked at Anam. By his species name, she knew he was the leader. “You… I’d… like to introduce myself,” she said. “And… to your spirit.”

“Oh!” Anam said. “Yeah! I’m Anam, and this is James! He worked with me for a long time, but when he eventually got too old, I brought him back as a spirit assistant!”

Owen squinted slightly. Anam sounded odd when he said that. Did anybody else notice? He glanced at Rhys. He noticed. But he didn’t say anything. It must have been nothing. Anam wasn’t the sort to lie, after all.

“Yes,” James said, nodding. “Ah, and Owen, your parents are very worried about you. I will fetch them.” He sank into the ground.

A brief, awkward silence filled the air. It was only broken when Anam said, “Wait! So… so that means right now, in this town… we have four of the Guardians in one place!”

“F-four…” Zena said, realizing this. “Water, Grass, and…?”

“Fire’s my Mom,” Owen said.

“And I’m the Ghost Guardian!” Anam said.

“Four of us, all in one place,” Zena remarked. “Isn’t that a bit worrying?”

“Not anymore,” Anam said. “I think we’re going to be changing strategies.”

Nevren nodded. “Yes. It appears that the remaining Hunters have discovered a means of tracking the auras of Guardians with great precision, so we must now dedicate ourselves to gathering, rather than separating, the power before the Hunters do the same.”

“Hmm.” Zena looked at Nevren carefully. “You… give off a strange aura as well.”

“Y-yes, well… that is…”

“Nevren,” Owen said, crossing his arms. “I’m really sensitive to secrets right now, and I just… I just don’t want to deal with it. Just tell me now so we can get it over with. And I think this Mystic power is making my perception go on overdrive, and I think I hate it? Because I’m feeling all the lies pouring from you guys. It’s disgusting. Just… tell the truth.”

Anam nibbled nervously on his fingers.

Nevren shook his head, eyes closed. “Very well,” he said. “It’s not much of a secret to others, but I used to be an active Hunter as well, yes. A… researcher; I was not much for fighting.”

Owen expected this, the way Rhys was so familiar with him. “Are there any other Elites or, like… anybody else here in the Hearts that are former Hunters?”

Nevren shook his head. “Of the Hearts, only Rhys and I are affiliated,” he said.

“Okay, just—what’s the point?” Owen said. “What’s the whole point of the Hunters? Why are you guys around for so long if you don’t have any Orbs to keep you alive? How many of you are there, and…?”

“Perhaps,” Rhys said, “this is something that we should discuss in private.”

Anam nodded. “Mhm. The night crowd is gonna come soon, and I don’t want them to overhear anything. Let’s go to my office!”

Everyone agreed, though Zena trailed behind, as promised. Ten paces. In this case, those were ten intervals of Zena’s weaving, slithering motions. The walk was a long one—it felt longer than usual. And Owen sensed it again. Rhys’ tension. But this was a different tension… Owen shook his head. He hated feeling these things. He tried to dull it, but he still had the vaguest feeling of what the others were doing around him.

Rhys glanced back at Zena. Owen did his best to ignore it, but those glances were becoming very frequent. He wasn’t getting tempted, was he? Was Nevren stronger than Rhys? No, he said he wasn’t a fighter. And what about Anam? Surely he could handle Rhys. Then again, Owen never actually saw the Goodra fight before. In fact, if the rumors were true, he usually just hugged outlaws into submission.

Suddenly, Rhys stopped walking; Owen nearly bumped into him had it not been for how abrupt he had stopped. “Rhys?” Owen asked, leaning to the side.

Zena tensed, Mystic energy silently flowing beneath the surface of her scales, making the once creamy color glow iridescently against the setting sun.

“I… I wish to apologize,” Rhys said, head down. “For what I put you through. I didn’t intend for you to live in fear. And… for that, I’m sorry.”

Zena’s guard faltered, but then her glare redoubled. “Intentions don’t mean very much, Hunter.”

Owen and Rhys both winced, but neither had a counter. Zena had every right. Anam nervously nibbled at the tips of his fingers; Gahi clicked his jaws irritably, but it seemed that even he knew not to speak up. Demitri and Mispy, largely uninformed, only exchanged confused glances.

“I understand,” Rhys finally said, cutting through the silence, but more agonizing emptiness took its place seconds later. Rhys’ paws twitched, and that lump—Owen sensed it in his throat again. But no words came.

In the dying lights of evening, the group quietly shuffled into Anam’s office. Demitri tripped and fell onto Mispy, who wrapped her vines around him and set the Axew atop her back. Nevren tapped his spoons twice; Luminous Orbs lit the corridors. “Could’ve done that in the first place,” Demitri mumbled.

The Goodra sat in the pond in the back of the room; all of the others sat in simple nests of hay that James had materialized from the shadows, except for Zena, who coiled around herself, next to Owen. On Owen’s other side was his mother—who refused to keep her hand off of the Charmeleon’s arm, holding firmly—and next to her, Alex.

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi jealously eyed Owen’s new, Charmeleon form. Owen, noticing this, gave a teasing little smirk—he won that little game and, surely, he’ll hit his final form first, too. The Elites were near Anam, though not too close; the gooey world leader tended to get in a grabby, cuddly mood at night, and the last thing they needed was to get covered in his slime.

“Well,” James said. “Rhys, perhaps it is appropriate for you to explain… yourself to those who are not aware.”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “I… believe it is appropriate.” He looked at the others—particularly at Zena, and then Owen, and finally, his students. “Nevren and I… are two of the five Hunters. Our purpose was to gather all of the Orbs into one being. We were meant to use this power to challenge Arceus, as we deemed him an improper god.”

It took nearly ten seconds for Owen to fully process those three sentences; he didn’t even react when Zena spoke first.

“Wh-what do you mean, challenge Arceus? Is that the power that these Orbs possess?” Zena asked. “Why in the world would Arceus allow such a thing to exist?”

“Because he created it in the first place,” Rhys said, “and is powerless to stop it by his own design. At least, that is the story we are told; that Arceus used to be omnipotent, when the world was first created. But then, fearing his own power and temper, he delegated some of it to others that he could trust. Star was one; he gave her a third of his power. Another third became imbued into artifacts that represented Arceus’ power; those became the Orbs. The remaining third is still with him.”

“Okay…” Owen rubbed his head. “But… hang on. Arceus didn’t like His own temper? Arceus has a temper?”

Rhys nodded. “Arceus does indeed become wrathful at times, and with absolute power, the results can be… devastating.”

It seemed too simple. Why would someone with ultimate power give it up at all?

Owen pressed on. “So… so He basically… tried to save the world from Him, retroactively?” Even as Owen said it, there was a hint of skepticism in his tone.

“It seems so.”

Owen grumbled. “But what about you? The Hunters? You want to challenge Him? Like, as in, usurp Him? Even though He did something so selfless?” Owen briefly paused, feeling a brief tinge of reverence in the way he spoke of the Creator. Just yesterday, he didn’t believe in the existence of one at all. Now…?

The shock of it all left him feeling numb enough that he could focus on the conversation and nothing else.

Rhys closed his eyes. “We were… conscripted,” he said, “by Star, to usurp him.”

“Oh.” Owen said. He blinked twice. “Wait—"

“You’re lying,” Zena said immediately.

“Do I look like I’m lying?” Rhys said just as quickly.

“That Torkoal said the same exact thing,” Zena said. “You’re lying, just as he was! Star would never—”

“Hm?” Amia looked up. “Oh, hold on, dear.”

Owen glanced curiously at his mother; she held her hand forward, pushing out a blue ember. It coalesced and turned into a pink cloud, and then further solidified into a very faint, yet clearly visible, Mew.

“H-h-hi, Star!” Owen greeted.

“Hey, Owen!” Star waved. “Hey, good to see you got your old Type back. Maybe you can practice switching between the two later, huh?”

Amia sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make you any more solid, Star, but your spirit’s just too much to manifest.”

“Nah, it’s fine. This works.”

Owen gulped, knowing why Star wanted to be summoned in the first place. “Um—about… about what Rhys said.”

“Star, are you here to disprove what that Hunter is saying?” Zena said. “Smite him.”

Star held her arms up, waving her paws quickly. “N-no, no, I don’t do the whole smite thing. I, uh, I mean, I’m kinda here to… back Rhys up.”

Zena’s coils tightened.

“I was listening in, and… he’s right. I… did kinda… create the Hunters, in a sense.” She fiddled with her paws.

The Milotic looked like she’d been stabbed in the chest. “Y-you… created them?” She expected Star to laugh and say it was a joke, another one of her pranks. But the Mew’s downcast eyes said it all. “The very people that—that ruined my life—that ruined everything I had?!” Zena said.

Star kept her head down.

The lack of response was perhaps the worst reaction Zena could have received. The painful silence lasted for—Owen wasn’t sure how many seconds. Too long. Even Gahi stayed quiet, his huge mouth slightly open in disbelief. Owen wondered if it was because the trio was witnessing Mew Herself, or because Star was behind something so horrible.

Silent through it all, Anam nibbled on his fingers and shrank back, eyes focused on nothing. It was like he was listening to a voice only he could hear, even while Zena spoke.

“I could have lived a normal life!” Zena whispered loudly. She was trembling. Her voice slowly grew in volume. “I… I could have lived as a normal Milotic, perhaps found myself a fine partner to have an egg with, to raise a child together, to become a family, to die of age like—like any other Pokémon! But instead…! Instead I lived… centuries… in isolation… with nothing but spirits that taunt me with their deaths, their ability to freely leave and pass on…! And I’m… I’m just stuck here with this Orb, some piece of our so-called all-mighty Creator’s rejected power! And… and all for what?! All for you to take it back?!”

Star opened her mouth to speak.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you! Leave my sight!”

Star bit her lower lip. She lingered, but when Zena’s piercing, fiery eyes persisted—enough to rival Owen’s tail—she disintegrated into a blue ember and returned to Amia.

Zena threw her head onto her coils, shivering and sniffling. Owen quietly looked around and saw that nobody was comfortable enough to approach her. He took initiative and quietly stepped closer to Zena and put a hand to her neck. She jerked her head away, but didn’t resist when Owen tried a second time.

“Why?” Owen finally asked. “What’s… what’s it all for? Why does—or, did, why did Star want that power?”

Rhys shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t know,” he said. “What she told us is the extent of her motivations behind trying to usurp Arceus. That he is an improper god; that the world is stagnating; that to save it, she would need the power. And… while I agreed with her at the time, the way the Hunters worked to do this…” He glanced at Zena. “It shook me. And I could not continue, and Star felt the same. Yet… well, as you can see, some of them still continue.”

Zena pressed her eyes against her scales. She was well beyond anger at this point; it seemed like she was just closing herself off again, like she was hiding away in the base of her caverns all over again. The way she coiled against the rocks made her scales bend roughly against the jagged portions. Owen stared worriedly at this. Did Zena even realize it?

“Star was my friend,” she said. “How could she lie to me? For so long?”

Owen held Zena’s side, trying to prevent her from damaging her scales too much. It was enough to stop her, and she resorted instead to brushing against his side instead. She needed something to press against, and Owen recognized that much, even if he couldn’t understand why. Her sheer size made it hard for the Charmeleon to remain stable; he gripped his claws onto the nest for some leverage. It wasn’t very effective.

“She may have told you many times before,” Rhys said, “and then erased your memory of it when the reaction was… less than favorable. Star can do that—it’s what inspired, and helped, Nevren do the same to Kilo Village to maintain Anam’s leadership without anybody realizing he never dies. But with all of us present, I doubt she can erase your memories again. Not effectively.”

Zena sniffed. Her tail wrapped around Owen next; he was too slow to react, and he became enveloped somewhere along her abdomen. She curled around him, just to have something to hold. “I remember… oh, I certainly remember now…!”

“Y-you do?” Owen said. “How many times did She tell you?”

Zena shook her head. Her voice was only slightly louder than a whisper. “A number of times. Every few decades. I reacted badly. I threatened to leave, and she couldn’t have that—I would get hurt.” She shrugged her head and rolled her watering eyes. Owen sensed Zena’s muscles make the same contraction pattern as before, threatening to brush against the walls again. He held her firmly, and her scales flinched away from the rocks.

The Milotic continued, “So, she had to undo it… and make me forget. She didn’t want me to get hurt…. That’s what she always told me. But…” Zena sniffled. She suddenly raised her voice, and it cracked. “But I’d rather die than live like this!”

“You don’t have to live like that any longer,” Rhys said firmly. “We will stay together as our own community. We will live among the mortals. And… we will gather the Orbs before the remaining Hunters can.”

It didn’t look like it was getting through to Zena, but she was at least silent. Her coils tightened further around Owen.

The Charmeleon squeaked, air escaping his chest. His bones creaked. “Can’t… can’t breathe…!”

Zena released him and he gasped for air. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. She stared at Rhys, now, recalling his recent actions. “Yet, here you are, now. Claiming to be an ex-Hunter… Why? When that was what you were given that power for?”

“Because I don’t believe it is helping anybody to keep the Orbs scattered in this way,” he said. “Even Star agrees, I’m sure, that having us live together is much better than keeping us apart. It’s unfortunate that we had to wait this long for that decision… but here we are.”

“And she doesn’t agree with the other Hunters, either?” Owen asked. “Like that Espurr?”

“Certainly not,” Nevren spoke up. “The remaining Hunters are acting on their own, for their own gain.”

Anam finally perked up, even if his usual, happy demeanor was completely missing, replaced instead by pained concern. “I—I trust Nevren. He’s my friend.”

Owen sank down, satisfied at least with this answer. While it was hard, even for Owen, to get a read on Nevren, what he said was reasonable. And if Anam trusted him, that was good enough.

“So that’s it, then,” James said, nodding. “We race the Hunters to gathering the Guardians. With Star’s cooperation, perhaps we can find more of them.”

Zena curled a bit tighter around Owen again; the Charmeleon tensed, readying for another crushing grip. “You can plan with her,” she said, “I’m not ready to speak.”

“Of course,” James said. “Amia? If you can summon her, please.”

“Oh—yes, dear.”

Star appeared again, this time a bit more solid—but Star was too powerful for Amia to fully materialize, and she was still very see-through. “H-hey, everyone…”

Her head was on fire.

“Uh, Star, er…” Owen pointed.

“What?” Star tried to look up. “Oh, come on.” She licked her paw and dabbed it on her forehead, putting out the flame. “Honestly, Amia. Fire realm’s way too hot.”

Amia tittered softly, but then fell back into a tense silence.

“Star…” Owen wanted to speak carefully, if only so he didn’t get crushed like a Cheri Berry. “I—I don’t get how you could create the Hunters and…” He glanced at Zena,.“And let something like that happen, but… You seem like a good Pokémon! S-so, you’re gonna help us, right?”

Star nodded. “I’ll do what I can. But, the thing is… a lot of the Guardians don’t talk to me anymore. They’re doing their own thing, hiding away and making sure they don’t, you know, get into any trouble. I’ll need some time to prepare. And I think you all need some rest.”

“O-oh.” Owen nodded. “Right…”

Just then, the pure exhaustion of the day hit him. This day began with him dying while touching the Grass Orb. It ended with him dying again when he turned back to a Fire Type. And now this?

“Rest up for a few days,” Star said. “I need to… gather everything I know. Alright?”

Rhys nodded. “That’s fair enough. Demitri, Mispy, Gahi. Let’s return home for dinner. Owen, I imagine you would like to go home with Amia.”

“Y-yeah,” Owen said. “Definitely. I’ll—” He tried to get out of Zena’s coils, but the Milotic held onto him tighter.

“Where will I go?” she asked.

“Oh, um, well.” Owen considered this. Zena probably wouldn’t be very comfortable in a slimy pool of water with Anam. And Rhys—that was certainly out of the question.

“You can come home with us, dear,” Amia said. “Hot Spot Cave, despite the name, is quite cool if I’m not using my power. I’ll make sure the central part of the cave is tolerable!”

Zena nodded. “Then, I will go there.”

Rhys nodded. “I believe we should also move in,” he said. “While Star prepares, we will gather our supplies and go to Hot Spot Cave.”

“E-eh? Just like that?” Gahi asked.

“I have a responsibility to protect the Guardians. If they are going to live in Hot Spot, then I shall go there as penance.”

“Oh! You know,” Owen perked up, “there’s actually building a lot like yours in Hot Spot! It even has a little sand pit from one of the other—” Owen winced, remembering that his entire village was dead. “You know, where one of the spirits used to fake-live.”

“A sand pit? Fer me?” Gahi said. “Hah! Well, I ain’t gonna complain. Figure we’ll accidentally go ter our old home a lot in the next few days, though.”

“We will be sure to register our Badges with Hot Spot Cave as its new personal Waypoint,” Rhys said. “Come, you three. Let’s go.”

Owen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hey, um, am I part of Team Alloy, now?” he asked. “We never made it official.”

“Eh? Oh, sure,” Gahi said. “Figured we already were. Sure. It’s official now.”

Vines slowly wrapped around Gahi, lifting him off the ground. His tiny legs wiggled uselessly. Mispy turned the Trapinch around, staring at him with narrowed, red eyes. The Chikorita spoke with her whisper of a voice, yet it was firmer than anybody else on the team. “I’m leader.”

“E-ehh…” Gahi’s jaws shut tight. He nodded.

Mispy dropped Gahi and nodded at Owen. “You may.”

Owen brightened. “Great! Then, um—I’ll see you guys soon!”

With those parting words, Team Alloy departed again. Rhys glanced behind just once to meet eyes with Zena, only to be met with an icy glare. He bristled and hastily exited with the others.

Owen’s tail dimmed, but Amia held his shoulder. She smiled and said, softly, “Give it time.” She followed the others out.

Owen frowned, but couldn’t find it in himself to argue. But the thought was there…

Wasn’t giving it time what ruined Zena’s life to begin with?

The Charmeleon realized, upon descending the stairway, that his flame was a lot more noticeable. The evening’s final light disappeared behind the horizon.

 

[Ambyssin]

I'll be honest, I was initially expecting just a quiet chapter with Owen and Zena... again. Probably because I'm much used to longer fics being slower paced while yours is... not. But you've clearly used to that your advantage in racking up all the popularity, so it's working. I guess I'll quickly go over some of the explanation stuff. I think I bought Owen's perceptiveness getting thrown into overdrive a lot more than the brief bit that Rhys gives about how you can successfully kill a Guardian. That... really doesn't answer much. Is some sort of traumatic head injury the only way because I'd like to think drowning is equally as horrendous, in which case Owen should've been super dead already. I'm sure you (in your head/notes/whatever) have an idea of where the line is between what a Guardian can/can't bounce back from, but it still isn't clear for me, so I'm not as quick as Owen to jump onto the "Guess I'm mortal after all" bit. You're playing with a difficult subject, so of course there are gonna be some kinks to work out.

Anyway... I'm surprised that all it took was a little talking from Zena to goad Owen into attacking Rhys after had had spent the entierty of the story fanboying over the guy. he must really have fallen head over heels for her, huh? Wasn't expecting Rhys to actually snap poor Owen like a toothpick with his attacks, though. Looks like Owen's got a very long way to go, it would seem. I admit I kind of glazed over the whole waypoint explanation bit because we've already heard it and you probably could've just gotten around with it an "Owen explained the Badge/Waypoint system to Zena" or something along those lines. And then we're back to the main hub and we have this introduction of the whole Divine Promise thing... which I'm assuming will get explained soon-ish? Along with the Hunters actual motivations? Also, I just want to say I called it on Nevren being not the most upstanding fellow. Point for me!

Okay, so I promised I was gonna have a ridiculous theory to drop... and it's time to make good on that. I believe that Owen is related to the Hunters. And not in the sense that "hurr durr well they're after him b/c he's the grass guardian." No, I mean I think he was, technically speaking, part of their ranks himself. I'd even go so far as to think he's directly related to their leader in some capacity. This was a random thought during a workout, but it seems to make sense. Let's run through it. He has this nagging sense he used to know Rhys and Nevren from somewhere, including memories of meditating with the former and getting attacked by the latter. If they're both former Hunters and Owen was one of them, those memories could be from training with the Hunters, but were then erased by Nevren. It's possible that when Rhys and/or Nevren defected, they decided to take Owen away from his real family in the hopes that Owen could cause problems for the Hunters down the line. Then Anam, Nevren, and Rhys worked to conceal Owen's memories (possibly even devolve him as well) and hide him away with Amia. Hence why all of them are particularly alarmed that he became the Grass Guardian. Whatever conspiracy/plan they had for Owen with regards to the Hunters pretty much fell through and now they're forced to reevaluate. Not entirely sure how Team Alloy fits into this. Either they might've unknowingly switched sides, too, or they saw too much and had to get the same treatment as Owen. Is this crazy? Undeniably! But I will wear that tinfoil hat with pride.

“But… but Rhys is cool,” Owen said.

Owen, sweetie, do we need to discuss how typings work again? It sure sounds like we do. Unless Rhys knows Ice Punch.
Alternatively, Owen's been spending too much time on FurAffinity.

“That Lucario is the one who nearly killed me,” Zena said. “He is the reason I spent lifetimes sealed away.” Her tail twitched, flexing the fan at the tip.

Alright, Rhys officially confirmed for worst character. How dare he try to harm this precious angel! Damn Lucarios and their Wolverine popularity...

“Owen…” Zena said softly. She finally broke past her hesitation and slithered even closer. She used a brow to rub his head.

You are really not helping your case here, buster. Plus, it seems to be PMD tradition to ship a Charmander species with a serpent, if Rebirth is anything to go by.

Rhys held his paws forward with an Aura Sphere-like shield to deflect the blast.

Ah, so this is one of those fics where aura just works like ki. Rhys must be the discount Vegeta to Owen's Goku, then. you brought this on yourself, bub.

If I aimed for your head,” he pointed out, “the Grass Orb would be without a host once more.”

Boom... headshot?

“But as yeh may’ve noticed, it’s pretty much twilight at this point, and I’m tired, and I haven’t had dinner yet, and maybe we can get this rolling along? Oy, Rhys, y’got yer Badge? I wanna go back ter Kilo. I hate rivers, and I hate oceans. I’d rather get eaten than drown someplace like this. We gonna go?”

I'm honestly surprised Rhys didn't turn to Gahi and just say, "Why did I bring you along, again?"

If you are confident in this… thing, I will put my faith in you, Owen.”

D'aww, see, their relationship is advancing already!

But he didn’t say anything. It must have been nothing. Anam wasn’t the sort to lie, after all.

Gee, I wonder if this'll be important down the road...

In fact, if the rumors were true, he usually just hugged outlaws into submission.

Anam is apparently Barry from that one wrestling episode of American Dad. TIMBER!

 

[canisaries]

He slammed into a tree and cried in pain when his left shoulder dislocated itself, and his left leg broke in two places. A few ribs probably got fractured, too. There was a large welt on his right side where the aura had exploded, and some scales had been blasted off, too. He crumpled to the ground; it hurt too much to move.

Man someone really needs to give Owen a lollipop for how much pain he's going through in this fic.

They have been blessed by Association Head Goodra Anam, who doubles as a sort of… priest, if you will.

PLEASE, LAWD! BLESS THESE BERRIES, FATHA! BLESS THE TREE THAT HAD THESE BERRIES, FATHA!

“...What’s a pace fer you?” Gahi said, observing her lack of limbs.

The Milotic glared.

Is it zero meters, or infinity meters? It's questions like these that keep me up at night. EDIT: Well nevermind then.

“Y-yes, thank…” Zena held out an eyebrow for him to shake.

I do love how the eyebrows are used like arms, forgot to mention it before.

Mispy glared.

Mispy wasn't established to be present before this sudden part in this scene. Demitri's shown to be at the top of the stairs, but nothing was mentioned about Mispy.

“He ran ahead ter get yeh,” Gahi said. “Said he knew where yeh’d be. Maybe he sensed yer Mystic aura, y’know?”

Was Gahi ever told about Mysticism? He was present when Rhys spoke to Owen about how being Mystic didn't mean you were invincible, but I never took Gahi to be the type to absorb and deduce knowledge from snippets like that. Did Rhys fill him in on it on the way there?

Also, while I was searching, I saw that Chapter 5 was named Mystic Glow. Clever thing, you are. ;P

“Oh!” Anam said. “Yeah! I’m Anam, and this is James! He worked with me for a long time, but when he eventually got too old, I brought him back as a spirit assistant!”

Owen squinted slightly. Anam sounded odd when he said that. Did anybody else notice? He glanced at Rhys. He noticed. But he didn’t say anything. It must have been nothing. Anam wasn’t the sort to lie, after all.

yea he killed him

Don't have much else on my mind to say this time... or at least be elaborate about. The concept and mechanics of a Divine Promise intrigue me. Rhys apologizing to someone he used to hunt (Hunt?) was pretty sweet to see and gave us more knowledge of his character. Don't have any theories of my own cause I'm a dull little pupper ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ well, see ya later.

 

[namohysip]

Let's reply to you guys here for once!

I think I bought Owen's perceptiveness getting thrown into overdrive a lot more than the brief bit that Rhys gives about how you can successfully kill a Guardian. That... really doesn't answer much. Is some sort of traumatic head injury the only way because I'd like to think drowning is equally as horrendous, in which case Owen should've been super dead already.

We had gone over this at slight length in private messaging, but ultimately you gave me the succinct solution in like, only a few words: "If your injuries are too severe, you'll die." So, thanks for that. The long and short of it is, drowning doesn't cause "visible harm" to the body in the same way, say, getting blasted by an Aura Sphere would, or getting stabbed by a tail, or slammed into walls would. So, killing a low-tier Guardian like Owen is simply a matter of hitting them a lot, and hitting them hard. Basically kill them faster than their regen heals them--drowning doesn't do that. I'll (try) to articulate this a bit better in this chapter.

I'm surprised that all it took was a little talking from Zena to goad Owen into attacking Rhys after had had spent the entierty of the story fanboying over the guy.

This was the second thing we discussed, and I might add in a brief paragraph of split-second thoughts from Owen during the moment when Zena's Hydro Pump failed, and when Owen attacked--because that's the moment he realized he could be in danger.

I admit I kind of glazed over the whole waypoint explanation bit because we've already heard it

Oh, did I? Whoops! I guess I can shorten this bit and abridge Owen's explanation.

the whole Divine Promise thing... which I'm assuming will get explained soon-ish? Along with the Hunters actual motivations? Also, I just want to say I called it on Nevren being not the most upstanding fellow. Point for me!

The first half of the next chapter has some revelations that will cover or graze a few of these questions, and then some. Some won't yet be covered, but will in near-future chapters.

Okay, so I promised I was gonna have a ridiculous theory to drop... and it's time to make good on that.

And as usual, I love your theories, but cannot confirm or deny any of them~

I'm honestly surprised Rhys didn't turn to Gahi and just say, "Why did I bring you along, again?"

I'm going to add something to this effect, because it's completely something I neglected to do.

Gee, I wonder if this'll be important down the road...

Heh... a bit on the nose, isn't it? Couldn't really find any other way for Owen to spot something like that, though.

Mispy wasn't established to be present before this sudden part in this scene.

Whoops! I should probably add a mention that she was next to the scalebag...

Was Gahi ever told about Mysticism?

Another whoops! He was, but that was offscreen. Should add that in, too.

Thanks again, guys! The next chapter probably won't be coming up until Friday or Saturday again.

 

[namohysip]

Chapter 11 – Moving In​

Kricketot chirped in the bushes. No moon filled the sky, but tiny white pinpricks, painted on the sky, took its place. Amia, with Alex beside her, led the way home with Owen and Zena. There was a little spring in the Gardevoir’s step. Owen’s tail and his Magmortar father’s shoulders lit the way.

“Uh oh,” Owen suddenly said, stopping.

“What is it, dear?” Amia asked.

“How is Zena gonna get inside if she’s alone?”

Zena blinked. “What do you mean? Does it not open to certain individuals?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Owen said. “You need to do the password to get in. But you can’t do it, because you don’t have any limbs.”

The Kricketot filled the void-like silence that followed.

“What?” Zena said.

Amia giggled. “Oh, Owen, that password is just for non-Guardians. If you’re Mystic, it’s easy to just will the boulder to the side, you know! I just put that switch there because once we had you, well, it wasn’t going to just be me heading in and out of that spot…”

“W-wait… so only I was…?” Owen trailed off.

“What is this password?” Zena asked.

“Uhh—” Owen blushed. “It’s not important.”

“We’ll have to teach it to Gahi and the others anyway, dear,” Amia said. “But you won’t need it if you’re Mystic, Zena. So, Owen, that means you won’t have to do the dance anymore! Isn’t that nice?”

“A dance,” Zena repeated, staring at Owen. She was clearly envisioning Owen cutting some form of a jig, based on the smile she valiantly suppressed.

Owen wondered if drowning was the better outcome after all.

“Ah, here we are!” Amia flicked her hand at the boulder. It rolled away effortlessly.

Owen looked crushed.

On their way in, Owen’s fatigue returned to the forefront of his mind. “I can’t wait to get some sleep.”

“I just might sleep, too,” Amia said. “It’s not really something that we need to do, but—”

“Wait,” Owen said exhaustedly, exasperatedly, “you don’t have to sleep?”

“When you become strong enough as a Mystic,” Amia said delicately, “a lot of the things that mortals need to perform become optional. Eating, sleeping…”

“But I like both of those things.” Owen frowned. “What’s the point of living if you can’t get a good meal?”

“Well, nothing’s stopping you!” Amia laughed. “A meal every now and then is wonderful! Besides, Owen, you just became a Guardian. You still need to eat.”

Owen shifted uncomfortably.

“I slept quite a lot,” Zena admitted. “It gets… boring, down there.”

“I can imagine,” Owen said. But on second thought, he couldn’t.

He eyed the glowing mushrooms. “Mom? Are these mushrooms glowing because of your power?”

“They are, dear,” Amia said. “I thought it made the cave look very pretty.”

Owen nodded.

“Do you like them?”

“Yeah!” Owen said. “So—can you keep that, maybe?”

Amia beamed. “I’d love to. What about you, Zena?”

“They’re much better than my dreary cave.”

They walked through the empty town. The pit in Owen’s stomach returned. He remembered the Arcanine that always greeted him. The kids playing in the main path. All his neighbors. Now it was empty and silent. Their steps echoed across the corridors.

“I think this home in particular, Zena, would do nicely for you,” Amia said. It was right next to their own cavern, though it seemed a lot cooler inside. Within this alcove was a large pit filled with rocks. Amia stepped toward the entryway and held her hand out.

Owen yelped when Amia’s head and dress burst into blue flames. More fire spewed from her arm, colliding with the rocks. The heat was enough to make Zena slither back a few paces. The loose rocks melted and compressed into liquid, creating an even deeper pit. Then, the flames stopped, and Amia’s body extinguished.

Owen’s jaw may as well have been on the floor.

Alex approached the lava, jumped in, and shoved his cannons into the molten rock. It looked like he was siphoning the stuff into his body. Then, he lifted his arms—which looked much heavier—and ejected that same molten rock to the far side of the home. Amia did the same thing, using psychic energy to haul more of the molten rock away to the corner of the room.

Amia finished by holding her other hand out, releasing a concentrated beam of ice into the pool. Plumes of steam filled the air and faded, leaving a pit of smooth obsidian behind.

“There!” Amia clapped her hands together. “Just one Hydro Pump, Zena, and you’ll have a lake to rest in!”

Zena slithered tentatively closer. She gently prodded at the cooled obsidian, and then at the depths of the pit. It would fit her comfortably, and then some. She nodded. “It’s wonderful, Amia,” she said. “Thank you.”

“We should go to bed, Owen,” Alex said. “You still need to sleep.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Owen nodded.

Amia and Alex left, but Owen didn’t follow just yet. He turned his attention back to Zena; she was filling the pool with multiple, gentle Hydro Pumps, made from pure, crystal-clear water. It only took three to finish the job, cold water filling it to the very rim. She looked back. “Owen?”

Owen glanced at the missing scales along her body; it occurred to him that Zena would be resting alone for the night. He could never sleep if it wasn’t at home in his bed. Would Zena be the same way, or was she used to it? “Will you be okay?”

“Will I be… okay?”

“Yeah.”

Zena tilted her head. “How do you mean?”

Owen played with his claws. “You said you were alone for centuries…”

Zena’s expression was oddly neutral. “That’s true.”

There was another long silence. He didn’t want to impose anything upon her, but part of the pit in his gut was certainly the thought of Zena being alone again. He’d never get to sleep with thoughts like that plaguing his mind. He glanced at Zena again; her expression was regal, but it felt like a mask. She had been so expressive before; now it was gone and emotionless.

He didn’t believe it for a second. So, he spoke. “Do you want—”

“Yes. Please.”

“O-okay.” Owen scampered into his home. “Mom!” he called. “I—oh, thanks.”

Amia handed him a bowl of Tamato soup.

“Keep Zena company, dear, at least for tonight.”

“Would you like me to carry over your bed?” Alex asked, peering out from the kitchen corridor.

“Oh, sure, yeah.”

Owen returned to Zena’s home and found a spot in the corner to drink his soup. Zena had slipped into the water during his absence, but he could still vaguely sense her presence as part of the water. Steam filled the air and clouded his vision; the soup’s red base was scalding, just how he liked it. The Charmeleon drank in greedy gulps. Alex returned with his bed, setting it down next to him. Owen crawled on top, finished his bowl in one last gulp, and handed it to Alex. “Thanks,” he said, and then eyed the lake.

“So, I’m gonna rest here for tonight,” Owen said. “Hope that’s okay.”

The lake didn’t reply. Owen didn’t mind. He curled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around, resting his chin atop them. He then wrapped his tail forward, noticing how the flame lit up the whole room.

“Does my tail bother you?” he asked. “I—I can probably cover it, if you like.”

Owen took her silence as indifference. Another glow illuminated the entryway; Alex entered, a book precariously held in the claws within his cannons. “I found this on your bed,” he said. “Looks like you have it bookmarked. Latest edition of,”—he squinted at the cover’s title—“Ho-Oh’s Absurd Escapade, I think?”

“Oh, right!” Owen’s flame brightened. He looked the cover over—a comic book—and figured if he couldn’t sleep, he could read through a few pages. “Thanks, Dad.”

With a nod and a few hesitant glances back, Alex finally left Owen alone with Zena. His tail was even brighter, now, and he was certain that it would be distracting the Milotic who probably just wanted a good night’s sleep.

Owen then remembered that Mystics didn’t need to sleep. Was Zena just doing it out of habit? Either way, he knew his endless light would be bothersome.

“Sorry if it’s too bright. I guess I’ll cover it.” Owen looked for a patch of Rawst leaves to hide his tail under. “It wouldn’t be too hard to—”

“It’s okay.”

Owen jolted, not expecting a voice. Zena had her head out of the water, staring at him. Most of the rest of her body remained liquefied.

“O-oh,” he said.

“Leave your tail out,” she said. “Sleep as you want. I’m not bothered by it at all.”

Owen nodded wordlessly. Zena sank back into the water, blending into it.

The soup’s warmth spread to the rest of his body, and his eyes grew heavy. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He curled up in bed, closed his eyes, and drifted away. Unfamiliar as it was, his bed made the new cave feel like home.

Zena slept soundly for the first time in decades.

<><><>​

“It’s a dance?” Gahi growled, angrily clicking his jaws.

The morning sun accompanied the arrival of Rhys and the rest of Team Alloy, just beyond Hot Spot Cave’s entrance.

“I’m not that good at dancing,” Demitri said, glancing at Mispy, who rolled her eyes.

“Maybe we can simplify it for you!” Amia said. “A phrase, or I can just manually check your auras instead of automating it.”

Rhys nodded. “Well, in any case, we have about half of our essential supplies with us,” he said, motioning behind him. Demitri was singlehandedly hauling the bulk of it in a gigantic bag that had a color suspiciously similar to Rhys’ fur coat. Owen stared in disgust.

“We have a home just for you!” Amia said. “I set it up overnight while Owen and Zena were sleeping.”

Zena straightened her stance to appear taller. “I—I wasn’t sleeping. I was merely meditating, as I always do.”

Owen was positive he’d heard the lake snore. Or perhaps that was a dream.

“Once we haul the rest of our supplies,” Rhys said, “we will return home to get the last of it. Afterward, we will continue with our usual regimen of training, missions, and so on, until Star is ready.”

Zena huffed at the mention of the Creator. Rhys glanced at the Milotic next; they briefly locked gazes, but Zena’s was a cold stare. Rhys looked to the floor next. “Do you need something, Hunter?” she growled. “Now that I think about it, I likely won’t be sleeping for the rest of my nights here.”

Rhys’ tail lowered, but he had no words.

“N-now, now, we just have to wait,” Amia said. “Owen! While your friends go on their usual missions, why don’t you stay back and train with Zena and I under Rhys? Perhaps we can help you get a better hold of your Mystic powers.”

“Oh, that could work,” Owen said. Though he longed for a normal day, he supposed such a privilege would need defer to his new duties, forced as they were. “What kind of training?”

“Train under him?” Zena asked. “The Lucario can go on missions with the rest of Team Alloy.”

“P-perhaps that is for the best,” Rhys said quickly. “I should supervise them for now, anyway, now that the mutants are at another resurgence. It could be dangerous.”

Zena didn’t smile nor smirk, but there was a bit of relief in her relaxed coils. “When we train, Owen, the first thing you should learn,” she said, “is how to control your ability to harness your Orb. So, becoming Grass.”

Owen recalled when he’d been nothing but a torso and vines. “Th-that sounds like a good plan. How do I do that?”

“Practice,” Amia said. “It shouldn’t be more than a few days for something that simple, so the timing works well!”

Owen wondered if it was possible to die of boredom as a Guardian. That sounded much more lethal than drowning.

“Heh, good luck, Grassmander,” Gahi said with a mocking churr.

Owen growled, ending it with a defiant chirp. “Don’t forget that Grass trumps Ground.”

“Aah, you’ll do fine,” Gahi said, wobbling into the cave. His voice echoed when they entered Rhys’ new abode. “Huh. Place looks almost like home.”

Owen sighed, looking at his paws. He couldn’t get that feeling of his whole body melting into vines out of his mind. The Charmeleon suppressed a shudder, sparing a glance at his tail to make sure it was still alight. He then looked at Zena, following her glare.

She and Rhys were looking at one another from across the cave. The Lucario was the first to break his gaze, shrinking into his home with his tail between his legs.

<><><>​

Flames and steam filled Hot Spot’s central road. Jets of water blasted the ground, narrowly avoided by a grassy Charmeleon in the center of the soaked, rocky field. He panted and rolled, frantically looking up; Zena stared, waiting for him to get on his feet. Scalding puddles of water surrounded Owen in small pools from previous attacks. He wanted to stay down, if only to take a few extra seconds to breathe, but he knew that the last time he did that, she just blasted him anyway.

“Don’t stall, dear!” Amia sang, white-hot embers floating around her head. Just behind her, Alex stood with a meek smile, waving at Owen, as if that would somehow encourage him.

“C-can’t I take a second to rest?” Owen said.

“Just a bit more, dear. You said you wanted to push yourself, right?” Amia flicked her hand.

Owen screeched and closed his eyes, focusing on his leafy feathers. They hardened, turning red, but it was too slow. He jumped out of the way again, but the ember redirected itself toward him. He screamed again, panic redoubling, and spat an ember of his own; that was just enough to cancel the attack in a swirl of orange and white fire.

Owen’s throat burned—he was still a bit on the grassy side. He coughed smoke, taking in ragged breaths, and fell to his knees. “W-wait—wait.”

“Should we stop?” Zena asked.

“Hmm…” Amia tapped her chin. “Just one more volley.”

He finally got a break; he wasn’t going to bargain for more. “F-fine, just one more,” Owen said, rubbing his eyes. “When are you gonna—AAAA!”

He ducked, narrowly dodging another beam of water. Owen’s horn carved the bottom of the beam; he felt the torrent tug his whole head backward, but he reacted just barely fast enough to duck further down.

Even as Owen’s scales transitioned to leaves, he couldn’t help but think that the most horrifying part about all this was he knew they were holding back.

Zena leaned her head down, redirecting her blast to hit Owen again. He rolled in response, the blast grazing his leafy arms—but compared to when he had been fiery, it didn’t hurt nearly as much.

The air felt hot, the power imbued within Pokémon techniques cutting through his body’s natural immunity to mundane flames. The Charmeleon dared to glance at Amia, but he couldn’t see her—instead, he only saw orange fire taking up half his vision. He screamed and crossed his arms, finally giving in. There was no way he’d be able to transition back to Fire that quickly. A shield of golden light appeared in front of Owen once he crossed his arms; the flames curved around the shield, splitting and evaporating behind the green Charmeleon.

Owen’s Protect dissipated. His arms hung limply beside him. “Ugh…” Owen finally collapsed onto his rear. “D-done. I’m done.”

And this time, Amia and Zena complied.

He sighed, unable to suppress the relieved smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“We didn’t push you too hard, did we?” Zena asked. “I personally thought we went a bit too far near the end, there…”

“No, I—I think you stopped at the right time. Mom knows.” He gave a little smile at the Gardevoir, and then at the Magmortar that stood behind her. Alex held out a cannon for Owen to grab, pulling him to his feet. “I fizzle out sometimes, but I still have some energy left in me. I just have to push a little more than I think I can. That’s part of Mystic training, right? I—I’m way better than I was last session!”

“That’s definitely true,” Amia agreed, holding her hands together. “It’s only been a few days and you’re already switching so fast!”

“Not fast enough to just do it on the fly, though,” Owen mumbled. “…I want to train again, and you have to promise to push a little harder, okay?”

“N-now?” Zena asked; even Amia flinched.

Alex tittered, patting Owen’s back. “N-now, why don’t we take a break, first? F-for a bit longer? You may be Mystic, but you still don’t have the same stamina as before. P-perhaps some meditating instead?”

“Aw, but I already meditated this morning.” Owen puffed out a small ember in protest, crossing his arms over his chest. His stomach felt like it was tying knots, but he ignored it.

“Well, it’s also almost lunchtime, isn’t it?” Amia said. “Owen, did you eat breakfast?”

“B-breakfast?” Owen repeated. “…O-oh, right. I think I forgot…”

The knot loosened, but with it came a fierce growl, deeper than anything Owen could produce with his throat. “E-eheh…”

Amia raised her head to the sound of a boulder moving. “Oh! Looks like Team Alloy’s back, dear.”

Owen perked up, spinning around. “Just in time for lunch!”

Amia and Alex both laughed. “We’ll get it ready, dear.”

Rhys, Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi all entered, though curiously, Nevren was also behind them. “Oh, hey, Nevren,” Owen greeted with a formal bow. “How come you’re here?”

“Ahh, I just wanted to inspect the landscape. I’m curious what Rhys’ new home looks like, and I was also promised a heavenly meal.”

“From Rhys or Mom?” Owen poked a claw behind him. “She’s already making something, so you might want to hurry.”

Rhys bristled. “But I asked her to hold off on dinner. I had just the dish in mind.”

“…Dinner?” Owen leaned to the right; orange light bled through the entryway before the boulder closed it off. Demitri yawned, which made Mispy yawn next. Gahi clicked his jaws and clenched them shut. “How long have I been…”

“Had a really long mission,” Demitri said, picking tiredly at his tusks. “A mutant—some kind of Electivire… thing, they weren’t sure what other features it had—had been on a rampage through a town a little north of the Wooden Wilds. Like… half of the buildings were either collapsed or cracked.”

“Quite impressive, really.” Nevren raised one of his spoons. “I’m certain those buildings were reinforced with Protect insulation. It had hit hard enough to dissipate it, and then continue through. Very impressive, if we want to at least give credit where it’s due.”

Team Alloy—Owen included—glared at Nevren. Zena, too, huffed. “What are these mutants? Owen mentioned them to me before, but all I know is that they’re strange Pokémon that seem to just appear.”

“Well, effectively, that is what they are,” Nevren said. “They’re so few and far between that they aren’t necessarily a concern… until a particularly troublesome one appears. And that has been happening more often lately.”

Rhys hummed, shaking his head. “If you must know, they have to do with the Hunters. I’m certain of that. We couldn’t find the mutant itself, only its path of destruction. It will take a while for that town to recover… but we did what we could in the immediate sense. Anam and James are arranging for long-term assistance as we speak. We may station a few Hearts there for morale and security in case another mutant happens to appear there. A second attack would wipe them from the map without our help.”

Owen shuddered, nodding. “I ran into a Snorlax mutant a while ago. Ugh…” He turned around. “I’m gonna help make dinner.”

“Hey, I’m coming, too,” Demitri said. “I want to see what we’re having! It should almost be ready, right?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it. If they aren’t finished, I will get my dish ready.” Rhys took advantage of his longer strides to cross Hot Spot and enter Amia’s home. “Amia! Amia, don’t forget that it’s dinnertime, and you promised me . . .”

No longer able to hear Rhys, and with Nevren walking ahead, too, Owen looked back at the rest of Team Alloy. “How’d the mission go? Did Rhys help out a lot?”

“It was a bunch of rebuilding and gathering supplies,” Demitri said.

“Boring.” Mispy’s leaf drooped.

“Yep, boring,” Gahi clicked. “Barely got a good fight in. Was glad we ran into some territorial ferals on the way, otherwise we’d be all stir-crazy.”

“Yeah.” Owen glanced back at the clouds of steam that coated the ceiling, condensing into droplets to rain back to the floor. “I got my fill of fights during my training, at least.”

“Lucky you.” Gahi wobbled past them; the other three had to walk quickly to keep up. “Bah, at least you can actually relate ter us. Nobody gets it, that need ter fight, y’know?”

“Y-yeah, but I think I get weird looks when I try to talk about that.”

At the dinner table, Zena struggled to find a place where she would properly fit. In an effort to include her in daily life again—at least, as close to normal daily life as they could manage—they had invited her over for dinner every day. Her size made things a bit awkward, though she eventually figured out to coil near the corner and lean her head toward the table.

But Owen noticed that there was a scowl on her face. He had a good idea why, based on where her eyes were glaring.

Amia had graciously allowed him to add his dish to the spread—it seemed to be some sort of spicy rice, speckled with Cheri bits and seasoned with a dark brown sauce. But his fur stood on end; he felt it, too. Perhaps it was her aura, but Zena was making her glare plainly obvious.

Owen decided not to speak and instead sat next to the Milotic. He flashed a forced smile, and Zena reciprocated with the same.

“How long ‘til it’s done?” Gahi shouted, banging his chin on the table. “That mission took ferever and I’m starved!”

“Very soon, Gahi; be polite.” Rhys tossed the pan’s contents up, slicing Cheri Berries with tiny blades of aura in midair. After a few tosses, he poured the last of the brown sauce in, which Owen realized was the main source of the savory smell.

“Rhys is pretty good at cooking, huh?” Owen asked Zena, hoping that she’d at least have some shred of recognition for his talents.

“Mm.” Zena’s scowl softened, but she also looked away from him.

After what felt like forever, Rhys finally turned around with the spicy rice, as well as Amia’s simpler, but hearty, potato-Tamato stew. Owen wasn’t sure which one to go for first; he just took half of both for himself. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi took after him while Amia placed bowls of water near the middle, warning them that it was a bit spicy.

“You guys really like yer spice,” Gahi said.

“It’s okay,” Mispy said.

“Feh, you’d eat anything.”

“Say that again.”

Owen didn’t have to look to know that Gahi had inched away from the Chikorita.

Zena didn’t take a bowl for herself, but she stayed for the company. Though, compared to the previous dinners, she was a lot quieter than usual. And the only real difference was that Rhys was eating with them—and Nevren, but Owen knew that it was mostly the ex-Hunter Lucario that she was focused on.

It was either because nobody else spoke, or because he, too, caught the tension, but even Gahi was quiet during dinner. In an attempt to stuff the thickness of the air away, Owen finished his meal first; almost immediately after he set his bowl down for the final time, Zena moved to speak. “Thank you for the dinner, Amia. It was lovely.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, dear.”

“I will be going.”

Without any further goodbye, she slithered out.

“I—I’ll go, too,” Owen said automatically, stepping away.

Rhys stood up next, which made everyone except Nevren stare in alarm. “Er—Rhys, dear?” Amia asked. “Is something the matter?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Nevren said leisurely, taking another spoonful of stew. “Amia, you must tell me how you cook these potatoes. The texture is marvelous.”

“Oh—I’ll tell you about the recipe, dear, but—”

“Would you excuse me?” Nevren stood up with more agency than usual. Rhys had already gone out, following Zena. Owen, watching it all, sped up his pace to make sure nothing particularly insane happened—not that enough had already befallen him the past few days.

“Hey, uh, Zena?” Owen said, stepping inside Zena’s abode nervously. “Er… sorry if I’m bothering you or anything, but…”

“You aren’t bothering me at all, Owen.” Zena slipped into the lake and kept her upper body above the water’s surface. While her eyes had a fire that defied her affinities, Owen could only assume she was telling the truth, particularly when her glare was aimed behind him.

“Ah… yes. Hello, Zena.” Rhys gave a formal bow. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but—”

“Then why are you here?”

Both Owen and Rhys winced. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi caught up to them, Nevren right behind.

“I… I wanted to apologize, again, for my actions in chasing you down. It wasn’t right of me, and I regret it—all of it. I want to make things right, and I want all of the Guardians to stop living in isolation and fear because of what the Hunters—myself included—had done.”

While Zena didn’t look convinced, she still replied enough to humor him. “And how do you intend to do that? By approaching the Guardians again, but in peace? Just like that Torkoal tried? I doubt they would believe you.”

“That is why I came here,” Rhys said, paws squeezed into little, anxious balls. “I need your help.”

“Rhys, what exactly are you doing?” Nevren said.

“Something I should have done when I first met her,” Rhys said, taking slow, deliberate, and careful steps into Zena’s home.

“Don’t come any closer, Hunter,” Zena hissed. “We may be working toward the same goal, but I refuse to—”

Rhys held out a paw and lowered his head.

The Mystic flash that came from Zena’s mouth suggested she was about to blast him until his head went down. The light disappeared, replaced by words. “What are you doing?”

“I, Lucario Rhys, Promise to abandon my role as a Hunter. Do you accept?” His paw glowed in a soft, golden light.

While Owen sensed no reaction from the rest of Team Alloy, the way Nevren ended up blinking several times, and how Zena flinched, made the Charmeleon let out a quick, confused chirp. “Doesn’t he already promise that, implicitly?”

But Zena didn’t answer him; she was completely focused on Rhys. “A Divine Promise, you mean?”

“Yes. I won’t kill another Guardian. My work as a Hunter is done, officially, and by Divine Promise.”

“…This is a trick,” Zena said hastily. “You couldn’t simply—abandon your—”

Rhys repeated, more firmly this time, “Zena, I hereby Promise to abandon my role as a Hunter. Do you accept?”

She stared at his paw for a while longer, the significance completely lost to Owen. He could only infer that this was a lot more than Rhys’ word alone…

“Do you accept?”

More silence. While he didn’t know her for long, Owen had never seen Zena’s eyes so wide. Shakily, she held out one of her ribbons, grasping Rhys’ paw. “I… I—I accept.”

Nevren looked like he was about to faint. Gahi, Demitri, and Mispy all looked at Owen for an answer, but the Charmeleon only replied with a shrug and wide eyes.

The golden light between Zena’s ribbon and Rhys’ paw flashed, then faded. Rhys stood up, his expression firm, and bowed at her again. Zena, meanwhile, was stunned into complete silence, ribbon still hovering where Rhys’ paw had been. She finally closed her mouth and looked down. “Th-thank you, Rhys. But I’m very tired.”

“I understand.”

She doesn’t look tired at all, Owen noted, frowning. Why were serpents so hard to read? “Um, Zena, will you be okay on your own?”

And to this, Zena gave him a warm smile that Owen hoped was genuine. “I’ll be fine tonight, but thank you. I… need to think.”

“Do you feel safe, dear?” Amia asked, holding a hand to the fin on her chest.

Alex bumped his cannons together. “If you would like company, we could always stand by your home.”

“I believe I will be okay. There will always be others awake, yes?”

“Oh, certainly. Owen, you still need your rest, but we will be awake to keep an eye on things.”

Zena looked at her ribbon. “…I won’t deny that I feel at least slightly safer. But… thank you anyway.” She turned around. “I’m going to meditate and converse with my spirits. We’re all a bit… Well. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning. Hopefully Star will finally return with news.”

<><><>​

The mushrooms were dim compared to the fire in the center of the room. Owen was always fond of the light; if anything, he was glad that the bright flames didn’t bother his parents’ sleeping patterns. Since they lacked one. He wanted to sleep right on top of it, but Amia said it would make him smell of smoke all the next day. Instead, he for his boring Rawst bed and lazily rolled until his arm dipped into a small alcove in the wall. Out came a book titled The Power and Peril of Seeds and Scarves, with Owen hoping that a bit of nonfiction could take his mind off of things. As interesting as it was, every page made his eyes just a bit heavier, the existential worries of his relatively newfound power and problems washing away.

Alex knocked his cannons against Owen’s room, the sound echoing hollowly. “Owen?”

“Hey.” Owen placed the book, open-faced, on his chest. “Something wrong?”

The Magmortar smiled. “I was about to ask you that.” He sat down near his bed—due to his size, he towered over Owen without any effort. “The past few days must have been really hectic.”

“Yeah, a little,” Owen said, shrugging. “But I’m starting to get used to it.”

“I can tell.”

“Eh?”

Alex chuckled quietly. “Well, this is the first time that you’re still awake after all your training.”

Owen blushed, hiding beneath his book, focused on an image depicting a Reviver Seed’s healing light. “Did I really just pass out that fast?”

“It certainly seemed that way.” Alex pressed his cannons together. “Owen, er… is there anything that you’d like to talk about? Anything that might be bothering you, or…?”

Owen’s expression slowly transitioned from flustered to subdued, though he remained hidden behind the pages. He had been focused so much on training that he never had the time to really reflect on why he was doing it in the first place, or what had happened on that disastrous day. He felt his scales crawl, like they were about to become leaves, and shuddered.

He felt Alex staring at him. Something had to be said to that, and it felt almost like a disservice to just tell him that everything was okay. Owen sighed, relenting. “I guess there’s one thing that sort of bothered me, but… I just…”

“Yes, Owen? Please, anything. I want to be as open as I can with you, now that, well… this is happening.”

Owen closed his eyes, focused on the dark. It was rare that he’d want to see nothing—especially since his flame kept his species perpetually in the light. “How come you guys wouldn’t show up when I became a Heart?”

“A-ah…”

Owen waited. All in all, it was one thing that certainly bothered him, out of everything. Becoming a Heart was monumental… and yet they weren’t even in the crowd.

“Well, we… it was dangerous. What if the Hunters tried to attack us while we were out in the open? We could possibly fight them off on our own, but if there are innocents nearby…”

Owen figured that would be the answer. It was only fair. But after those countless attempts, year after year, of trying to join the Hearts—he had no idea how many times he had been rejected—the day he was accepted, they couldn’t just take one risk?

“Why were you able to show up at Anam’s place?”

“Anam came to get us,” Alex said. “Out of all of us, he’s the one strong enough to be in public… and he’s the only other Guardian we know.”

Though Owen’s claws were still squeezing the book cover, he knew that was a reasonable enough answer. But something still felt wrong.

“Owen, what’s this really about? I think… you already knew those answers.”

Owen snorted a bit of fire; his heart skipped a beat, reflexively trying to put out the flames on the page, but then he remembered he had bought special Rawst editions. The pages remained unaffected. He sighed, finally lowering the book. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Alex flinched. “T-tell you?”

“About… you. That the whole village is dead. And that Mom’s…”

“We just wanted you to live a normal life, Owen. That’s really all.”

“But—that was just a huge lie!” Owen dared to peek out from behind the book. He regretted it immediately; Alex’s eyes were right on him, accompanied by an apologetic frown. He couldn’t bear to look at it for much longer, yet without thinking placed the book to the side of his nest. The Charmeleon rolled on the leaves, staring at the fire in the center of the room. For some reason, the flames seemed a lot colder tonight.

“I’m sorry, Owen.” Alex placed his arm on the Charmeleon’s back, giving it a gentle press between his shoulders. Owen’s body loosened, muscles relaxing. “We just didn’t want you to panic. If you could have just had… the smallest sense of normalcy… where you wouldn’t have to feel afraid, or wouldn’t get scared by anything you saw, or what you knew… I—I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Right.” Owen should have expected an answer like that, too. He already knew that the rest of the village spirits—now within Amia so she could spend more power training him—were surely proud. And perhaps, when his training was His eyes softened, finally gathering enough nerve to look at Alex directly. “What’s Mom doing, anyway?”

“Standing guard outside, as always.”

As always. Owen wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but it was apparently insulted enough that Alex looked at the fire next.

“I’m sorry.”

Owen couldn’t stay mad at that face. With a sigh of defeat, he just smiled at his father, “It’s okay. I… I get it. You guys just wanted me to be happy, and… I was.” Somehow, Alex’s relieved smile spread to Owen’s, too… or perhaps that was because he could barely stay awake. The fatigue was starting to set in again. At least he had some time to chat. “How have… I been doing?” Owen asked. “With my training… Mystic… strong.”

“You’ve been doing well, Owen. I’m so proud of you for how well you’re taking all this. So is your mother.”

“Mhmm…” Owen’s eyelids fluttered. The flames were a blurry, dancing blotch in front of his eyes, ever-present and cozy. “Guardians… Star, gonna…”

“Soon, hopefully,” Alex replied. “Maybe if we can get them together, we can take on the Hunters. If they. . .”

Owen wasn’t sure what Alex said after that. He curled around a clump of leaves, the tip of his tail touching his snout, and faded. He had many nights to rest, but it was the first time that he hadn’t just passed out immediately. Yet, despite this, it was the most restful sleep he’d had since becoming the Grass Guardian.

In his sleep, Owen heard his mother’s voice.

Good night, little ember.

<><><>​

“Well… I know for sure that Rim already stole one of the Orbs,” Star said, sitting on Anam’s dark wooden desk. In the morning light, James felt it was appropriate to gather everybody together once Star brought news to Amia that she had gathered all the intelligence she needed. It had been another few days, but the rest was well worth it—at least from Owen’s perspective. While he was never allowed to go on missions with Team Alloy, his meditation and training with Zena and Amia, while excruciating, was also… fun? Perhaps that’s how it felt, finally able to truly exert himself and fight in ways that most civilians felt uncomfortable with.

“She has the Psychic Orb, actually. Appropriate, given she always likes being an Espurr, but…” She shook her head. “That one wasn’t very well-guarded. Some village had it as an artifact, hidden in plain sight, so all she had to do was sneak in and steal it. Didn’t have any power. Folks who tried touching it never woke up again, so, guess they just saw it as too dangerous.”

“How about all the other Orbs?” Owen asked.

“As far as I know, they’re all with a Guardian, but most I wouldn’t recommend going to just now,” Star said. “Still, we’re in a good spot. Four Orbs with us, one Orb to them.”

“How come you can’t just tell them to come over?” Owen asked.

“For one,” Star held up a nebulous claw, “a lot of them are kinda leery about me since, you know, I told them to stay put and all that, and suddenly changing my tune is gonna throw them off. And two, even if I did tell them that, uh, news flash, Hunters might get them on their way over. We need to go to them as a group in case we run into trouble.”

Zena, while still flashing glares at Star whenever she could, kept herself professional enough to contribute. “I suppose she has a point. If that’s the case, let’s begin with Orbs you believe are the easiest to access. That means the Hunters would have the easiest time getting them, too.”

“Okay. I’ll put down those dots first,” Star said. “Then you guys can grab the first one. Uhh…” She looked up at the huge map on the front wall of Anam’s office. The others followed her gaze. It depicted a great, roughly-circle-shaped country that comprised almost all of the world’s dry land. Everything else was just ocean. Owen saw the marking of his home to the north of Kilo Mountain in the center of the map.

“This one’s pretty good. She’s a little weird, but she won’t hurt you, maybe. Willow, the Fairy Guardian. She’s right here, in a hidden garden inside that forest….” She pointed at a pale green patch of land within a northwestern woodland called Fae, Fae Forest.

Demitri shuddered slightly. “Fairy, huh…”

“Oh, calm down,” Star hushed him. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I—I do!” Demitri said. “I just… won’t try to fight her.”

“How about all the other locations?” Owen asked. “We should try to rescue them all at once!”

“No-go on that,” Star dismissed. “Spread ourselves too thin, the Hunters will beat us down.”

“Hrm.” James fluffed up his feathers. “At the same time, we risk giving the Hunters even more time than necessary if we all go to them one by one. Perhaps we should follow official Heart protocol—teams of four or fewer. On a practical level, it’s the most optimal size for a mission of this scale.”

Owen nodded. “I feel like you’d need someone dedicated to just managing things if you have too many Hearts fighting on one team.”

Nevren chuckled. “A Heart manager. It sounds as if you want a tactician.”

Rhys glared at Nevren. The Alakazam ignored it.

“What an interesting concept, Owen,” Nevren went on. “Well, I’m not much of a fighter, so perhaps I can play that role,” he said. “Would you care if I gave you all communication devices? I’ve actually been working on this for quite some time, and it may actually be useful in this case, hm.”

“Y-you can do that? How?”

“It’s similar technology to how my Waypoints have been working, but instead of transferring solid material such as Pokémon and their possessions, it transfers energy, such as, in this case, the vibrations of the air made by speaking. Quite useful, yes?” Nevren pulled from his bag—as if he’d been waiting a while to announce this—what appeared to be three silver Badges. “I only have two at the moment… ah, no, three.”

“They look… kinda like our Badge,” Owen said.

“Yes, I wanted there to be a resemblance. However, the color is quite different, so I imagine there will not be much confusion.”

It was indeed a lot like the Badge, but the design in the center was not a heart, but a diamond. However, it was the silver sheen, compared to the typical gold, was the most immediate difference.

Mispy prodded one of the communicators with a vine. “Mnn… nice.”

“How do you use it?” Owen asked.

“You press the center rhombus and speak into it. So long as the other badge is not pressed, it will reflect what it ‘hears’… to put it simply.”

Gahi pressed the little rhombus with his tiny foot. “Can yeh hear me?”

Can yeh hear me? the other two said at the very same time.

“Whoa!” Owen said. “That’s… really cool!”

The Trapinch clicked. “That’s how I sound?”

“Sounded normal to me,” Demitri said.

“Mhm.” Mispy nodded.

Gahi grumbled something and pushed the communicator to the others with a flick of his head. “I don’t like it.”

“Aww, you sound fine, Gahi. We’re used to it,” Demitri teased. “Hey, how about we compete for second place on evolving on this mission, huh?” Almost instantly, their cheerful expressions shifted to challenging glares, and the challenge was on.

“Hey!” Owen perked up. “How about for this mission, all four of us team u—”

“No!” Rhys and Star said.

Owen jumped.

Rhys shook his head. “That is not a good idea. We need at least one elite with you. Don’t forget, you’re all only at the Entry level. The Hunters… No. I shall accompany them.”

“And your father and I will go with you instead, Owen,” Amia said, smiling.

Owen deflated. He really wanted to fight as a quartet…

“So that will be a team with Rhys and his students,” James said, “and a team of Owen, Amia, and I presume Alex. That leaves you, Zena… perhaps to come with myself and Anam. Do you have a spirit to accompany you?”

Zena glanced at Owen, but then sighed and addressed James. “None that I can solidify usefully.”

“I can’t go,” Star said. “I’m too strong to solidify completely, and I want Anam to focus that energy on keeping James out. I’ll just cheer for you guys... okay?”

Nevren nodded. “I wish you all luck,” he said. “I will remain behind to manage the Hearts while you are away, yes?”

“Oh! Yeah, thank you, Nevren!” Anam said. “Um… I think that’s everyone! Yeah! So, we’ll have three teams! Star? Where should we go?”

“Hmm, okay. Like I said, Fairy Guardian is one. Rock and Normal are also ones that I’m kinda worried about the Hunters reaching sooner, so let’s do them, too.” Star pointed to the map. “Great Crevice for the statue.” On the map, a great, rocky gash trailed across an eighth of the land’s diameter, like a great titan had cut across the southeastern part of the map. Then, Star pointed to a spot in a western forest near Kilo Mountain. “And not too far from here, there’s an abandoned temple deep in the woods. Nothing’s really there anymore, but… Anam, you’re familiar with that place, right? You should go there, since you know the way.”

“Why is the Normal Guardian at a temple?” Owen asked.

“He kinda likes modern architecture.”

“What’s a modern?” Gahi asked.

“Uhhh—it means ancient. Sorry, I kinda get my terms mixed up. Generational lingo, y’know? Kinda hard for a god to keep up when you’re cooped up in the spirit world.”

Owen was busy chatting with Zena to notice what else Star was saying. He already had his assignment. “I guess it’s good that I’m not a Dragon Type after all, huh?”

“Oh, you aren’t?” Zena asked. “You know, I always thought the Charmander line was part Dragon.”

“Believe me, I wish that was true,” Owen grumbled. “Dragons are awesome. We even look like one, if you compare us! But I guess someone”—Owen glared at Star—“thought we were better off with things like Pidgey. N-no offense to Pidgey or anything.”

Zena nodded. “Well, I think you’re just fine, regardless of your Type. Fire… or Grass.”

Owen tittered. “Yeah, I guess Grass isn’t so bad after all.” He lied aloud, if only to keep Mispy from dismembering him in his sleep.

Zena giggled—something that surprised Owen at first, how bright her eyes looked for just a flash—and then she composed herself. “Well, in any case, good luck, Owen, with the Fairy Guardian. I hope we can spend some time reading a book together when we return?”

Owen tilted his head. That was an odd set of muscle movements. He wasn’t sure if Zena was tense for the mission, or what. Perhaps she was just nervous, and Milotic expressed that differently. Defaulting to a cheerful smile, Owen said, “Hey, sure. That sounds great! And good luck with the Normal Guardian!”

With the teams prepared and Badges charged, they all dispatched for their respective Waypoints.

 

[canisaries]

On Owen’s other side was his mother—who refused to keep her hand off of the Charmeleon’s arm, holding firmly—and next to her, Alex.

mOOOOm not in front of my friends

eying

Huh, as about to correct this to "eyeing", but apparently "eying" is also correct. TIL. Does look pretty weird to me, still.

Anam tended to get in a grabby, cuddly mood at night, and the last thing they needed was to get covered in his slime.

b-bad touch

Nevren and I… are two of the five Hunters.

Only five? Huh, expected there to be more. Although a lower count does make sense given how powerful they are and how they seem to have been individually created. Unless there were a lot more, but only five remain now.

We were meant to use this power to challenge Arceus, as we deemed him an improper god.

*grumbles and checks another mark off the "ideas I planned that have appeared in other PMD fics"*

“Hello?” Anam said, looking at the air. His thick, feeler-like horns twitched. “Oh, hi, Star!” he said.

“Anam, you should probably speak with your mind when conversing with the spirits,” James muttered.

“Oh, you want to come out? Okay. Hold on.” Anam held his hands out. A cyan glow was followed by a soft, pink mist. Upon being expelled, it solidified—barely—into an apparition: a transparent body of Star. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t put enough power to make you—”

ah sorry guys literally GOD is calling me i gotta take this - oh well you know what i'll just put her on speaker

“W-wait… so only I was…?” Owen trailed off.

HAHAHA PRANKED

“There!” Amia clapped her hands together. “Just one Hydro Pump, Zena, and you’ll have a lake to rest in!”

Zena slithered tentatively closer. She gently prodded at the cooled obsidian, and then at the depths of the pit. It would fit her comfortably, and then some. She nodded. “It’s wonderful, Amia,” she said. “Thank you.”

I know that Hydro Pump is probably like, summoning water rather than using your own, but... still sounds kinda gross to sleep in your own water :T

Demitri was singlehandedly hauling the bulk of it in a gigantic bag that had a color suspiciously similar to Rhys’ fur coat. Owen stared in disgust.

Rhys is going to make a his own Lucario line of clothing one of these days. At least the fursuits will be really good

It wasn’t perfect, but after a few days of the routine, Owen was able to shift from Fire to Grass with some concentration and about ten seconds.

...Oh! That felt... really quick, not gonna lie. Was kind of waiting for at least a snapshot of what it was like.

given she always likes being an Espurr

Hmm, so she can transform, huh? Wonder if that's specific to her or Hunters actually have transformational powers...

“So that will be a team with Demitri, Mispy, Gahi, and Rhys,” James said, “and a team of Owen, Amia, and I presume Alex. That leaves you, Zena… perhaps to come with myself and Anam. Do you have a spirit to accompany you?”

Just now I realized how many characters the cast actually has. Yet I haven't mixed any together since, like, the first chapter. Shows you've done a good job with characterization and the pace of new introductions. Although, I will admit that the team-planning section had me doing some rereading to follow just how it was unfolding and who was going where.

“So… so He basically… tried to save the world from him, retroactively?”

Arceus's pronoun keeps changing between capitalized and non-capitalized. Being someone who writes with three different tiers of capitalization, I'm especially perceptive to this ;p

What Zena's gone through is really heartbreaking, but I can't lie that I also found it darkly amusing just on how it was revealed and how horrible it was. For the self-harm part, I couldn't really personally connect because of how different it was to my own experiences, but I could get it well enough on a character level as I know everyone's experiences are different. I do like the relationship developing between Owen and Zena. Promises something better for the poor girl's future.

Anyway, those are my thoughts. Congratulations to me for finally managing to respond before Amby <(ツ)´ (that's a dab emote) (a bad one)

 

[Ambyssin]

So, Arceus was all-powerful and completely afraid of his own power, eh? Well, you're certainly not the first fic to feature baddies trying to usurp Arceus (in fact, lucarioknight's stuff is entirely about that). But having a god stripping himself of his own powers out of fear he's going to get too strong and destructive seems like a unique enough take. It makes me wonder if Arceus will actually be showing up at some point... perhaps late into the story. Maybe there will even be a disagreement, spat, or fight with Star since the two clearly seem to be at odds about the power that Arceus dispelled back in the day. Wasn't especting Star to be the force behind the Hunters, though it sounds like there was a schism amongst the... five of them. Those five being Rhys, Nevren, Rim, Eon (who's only been mentioned) and, presumably, Owen. I'm still a bit confused about all the memory erasing that Star's apparently doing and Nevren picked up on, since we still have yet to hear why Owen's and Team Alloy's memories have been altered. The risk you run in introducing so many twits and plot points quickly is that, if some get left to fester, it may irk readers. Just my two cents.

Owen and Zena continue to be the most adorable accidental couple. It shows how much of a proverbial nice guy Owen is that he would stick around and keep Zena company just because she asks. While I get Zena's loneliness, I do think the self-harm bit of her response to Star's revelation was a bit... melodramatic. And not the kind of melodrama I can wave off because she's, say, a teenager or something. I'd have expected something more like Owen where she gives Star a piece of her mind and slithers out the room. Then, maybe, she starts considering that all this stuff isn't worth it. Again, my two cents. I think you freaked out a bit over something that you might not have even needed to have here in the first place, if you catch my drift.

Lastly the "plan of attack" the team has. It's got all the makings of MacGuffin quest, except we're having multiple groups going after what I'm presumbing will be some colorful characters. I don't anticipate the smoothest of sailing given how long you claim this story will be. If I had to speculate, I'd say Owen's group will likely encounter the most trouble because, well, he's the hero and that's kind of a requirement. Anam's group will have an easier time and Rhys' team will also have some difficulties that lead to one of (or all of) Team Alloy evolving.

They were jealously eying his new, Charmeleon form. Owen, noticing this, gave a teasing little smirk

Always nice to start off a chapter with the Pokémon equivalent of measuring dick sizes. You're better than that, Owen!

Anam tended to get in a grabby, cuddly mood at night, and the last thing they needed was to get covered in his slime.

Two paragraphs in and I already need an adult. ;~;

She curled around Owen, just to have something to hold.

BAD TOUCH, ZENA. BAD TOUCH!

Zena nodded. “Then, I will go there.”

Hot damn one day together and Owen's already taking her to his home. Talk about fast-tracking a relationship!

“A dance,” Zena repeated, staring at Owen. She was clearly envisioning Owen cutting some form of a jig, based on the smile she valiantly suppressed.

Excuse me, Zena. Owen is a 'mon of taste. He dances the Charleston. Also, you are really not doing yourself favors here, buddy. At this rate, they're gonna kiss by chapter thir–

So, he spoke. “Do you want—”

“Yes. Please.”

NEVER MIND, THEN. Sleeping together after just a day? What a very... human thing to do. I guess we interrupt this Pokémon Mystery Dungeon story to bring you every young adult romance movie ever.

“I—I wasn’t sleeping. I was merely meditating, as I always do,” Zena said.

I don't think that's all you were doing, girl.

with Rhys spending the entire first day rearranging his mementos and artifacts.

Rhys is a hoarder confirmed.

She pointed at a pale green patch of land within a northwestern woodland called Fae, Fae Forest.

I see Arceus is about as good at names as ASGORE.

“It’s similar technology to how my Waypoints have been working, but instead of transferring solid material such as Pokémon and their possessions, it transfers energy, such as, in this case, the vibrations of the air made by speaking. Quite useful, yes?”

Discount Expedition Gadget Get!

“Believe me, I wish that was true,” Owen grumbled. “Dragons are awesome. We even look like one, if you compare us! But I guess someone—” Owen glared at Star, “—thought we were better off with things like Pidgey. No offense to Pidgey or anything,” Owen quickly amended.

Owen putting the fire-type to use with them sick burns. Also... doth I detect some typing bias?

Zena nodded. “Well, I think you’re just fine, regardless of your Type. Fire… or Grass.”

Yup, they've definitely banged and you can't convince me otherwise.

 

[namohysip]

Huh, as about to correct this to "eyeing", but apparently "eying" is also correct. TIL. Does look pretty weird to me, still.

I spent WAY too much time deciding which spelling to use, canis, so you're not the only one. I decided to just go with eying and went "whatever I guess."

*grumbles and checks another mark off the "ideas I planned that have appeared in other PMD fics"*

I mean, of all the stuff I've got going on here, "challenge Arceus" is probably on the trite side.

I know that Hydro Pump is probably like, summoning water rather than using your own, but... still sounds kinda gross to sleep in your own water :T

I guess it's a cultural thing, heh.

...Oh! That felt... really quick, not gonna lie. Was kind of waiting for at least a snapshot of what it was like.

Hmm, that's a good point. I think I'll add that in! Maybe just a passage describing his troubles and eventual grasping of the concept--since it shouldn't be too difficult, and OWen still can't do it under pressure.

Just now I realized how many characters the cast actually has. Yet I haven't mixed any together since, like, the first chapter. Shows you've done a good job with characterization and the pace of new introductions. Although, I will admit that the team-planning section had me doing some rereading to follow just how it was unfolding and who was going where.

Don't worry, I'll be doing a reminder of who's with who when they get to that.

Arceus's pronoun keeps changing between capitalized and non-capitalized.

This is intentional! I'm doing my best to keep it consistent, but essentially, if a character regards Arceus as a god or someone meant to be revered or worshiped, they capitalize the pronouns. If not, they don't capitalize. You know how when you talk to someone and they refer to a divine being, and you can kinda "hear" the capitalization when they talk? It's that, in written form.

The risk you run in introducing so many twits and plot points quickly is that, if some get left to fester, it may irk readers. Just my two cents.

Hmmm, that's definitely a concern. Thankfully, the memory stuff should be answered (relatively) soon. It's definitely a central conflict of Act I.

While I get Zena's loneliness, I do think the self-harm bit of her response to Star's revelation was a bit... melodramatic. And not the kind of melodrama I can wave off because she's, say, a teenager or something. I'd have expected something more like Owen where she gives Star a piece of her mind and slithers out the room. Then, maybe, she starts considering that all this stuff isn't worth it.

Hmm, another valid concern. It does seem a little strong, I suppose, but Zena's a broken Milotic, and Star's particular revelations are pretty much the thing that are Zena's weak point. She crumbled. Still, I see what you mean. I'll explore this a little further, see if there's a way I can rework this into something more subtle or subdued so it's kinda not just there and in your face about it.

Yup, they've definitely banged and you can't convince me otherwise.

Wh--! I'm sure I'd've been more obvious about it if that actually happened! Zena's lonely but she's also shy, so while she's forward about company, I don't think she'd be looking for any Char tail, especially since as of that night, he's still a bit afraid of water, due to his last experience.

 

[namohysip]

Special Episode 1 – Storm​

Lightning shattered the sky.

A squadron of Pokémon consisting of a Flareon, Delphox, Salazzle, and Rapidash stopped to avert their eyes. A thunderous blast deafened them, and the ground trembled when a follow-up explosion—this time, one of a tree crashing down—dwarfed any other noise. It was midday, yet the sun did not shine through the thick clouds for even an instant. Even truer to its name than usual, Nightshade Forest was navigable only because of the crackling flames on Rapidash Tee’s back.

It was hard to see. Even with the orange glow, the tree trunks were coal-black, and the plants were all the darkest shade of green in all the worlds’ forests. Rainwater glistened against the flames of Tee, but ahead was an even greater glow of a distant, freak inferno that mocked the torrential rainwater.

“LET’S GO!” the Delphox roared. He held his arm up and guided the team with a flame from his palm.

“Leo, slow down!” the Flareon huffed.

“We can’t,” Leo said. “Faster, Emby! What’s taking you, Tee?!”

“It’s—it’s not very easy to work under these conditions!” the Rapidash replied with a hiss that rivaled the stinging fire on her back. Every drop of rain was like acid against her, and the steam that came off of her body was a constant reminder of the thunderstorm above. “Spice! Pick it up!”

“Oh, you hush!” the Salazzle replied. “Pick it up?! You’re the one stumbling over your own hooves!”

“Now’s not the time, girls!” Leo grunted. “Emby, what’s going on?”

“Just ahead,” Emby said. Her bushy tail was soaked from the rain, and it doubled her weight. Between her new bulk and lopsidedness, she was barely able to run. “There’s someone there—who is it?!”

Leo saw, just barely, the signature, dancing ember atop a Charmander’s tail. It walked with great labor—hauling something on his back.

“Kid!” Leo shouted. “What’s wrong? What—” He gasped.

He was hauling a Bulbasaur that was more ash than plant. Half-dead eyes stared emptily toward the ground.

Leo ran close and wrapped his arms around the charred Pokémon. “This is bad,” he said. “Spice! Oran Berry!”

“I don’t think an Oran’s gonna be enough for this!” Spice said, but she dashed forward anyway, handing Leo the blue fruit.

Leo tried to shove the berry into its mouth, but it didn’t work. Too weak. “C’mon, just a little, get that energy back. This Berry is blessed, you have to eat it!”

The Bulbasaur wasn’t even awake.

“Oh, give me that!” Spice said. Her dark claws snatched the berry from Leo and she shoved it in her mouth. Leo’s eyes bulged in protest. He grabbed her arm, but Spice shoved him aside.

“Spice! Stop with that Salazzle gluttony for a second and—”

He tried to grab her again, but Spice whipped Leo with her tail, binding his arms against his body. He writhed to break free, always surprised by her strength.

Spice then shoved her mouth against the Bulbasaur’s, promptly stopping the rest of Leo’s retort. Spice forced the mashed berry into the Bulbasaur’s larger mouth and down his throat with an amount of practiced ease that unnerved Leo.

It indeed wasn’t enough—but the energy was enough of a jolt to get the Bulbasaur awake. He cried out, suddenly aware of the pain that permeated his body, even with some of the wounds healing. He flailed weakly, flinging bits of burned plant and flesh matter that washed away in the rain.

“I need another!” Spice said. “And a Heal Seed! NOW!”

“R-right,” Leo said, handing the seed, and then the berry. Spice tried to feed it to the Bulbasaur the normal way, but he was too panicked. She cursed under her breath and shoved both in her maw again, chewing quickly, and forcing the food in.

Leo motioned for Emby and Tee to run ahead; they nodded and dashed. If this was the Bulbasaur’s condition, there was no telling how many more needed rescue from the inferno ahead.

“Backup should be here soon with more supplies,” Leo said, looking back. “Ugh—this rain! Why is there a fire in the rain?!”

“This is the worst thunderstorm I’ve ever seen,” Spice said. “Some freak accident must have caused it. The—"

Another bolt split the sky in two. Leo covered his bushy ears. The flame-colored fur that covered the holes shook against the booming sound.

When the thunder subsided, Spice turned her attention to the one that had brought the Bulbasaur to them. “You! Thank you for your help, kid—now, get out of here!”

“N-no way!” he protested. “And—I’m not a kid! I’m Charmander Owen! Maybe you’ve heard of me?!”

“Aren’t you that upstart who got his Provisionary Badge? Look, kid, you’re not even one of the Hearts yet—I know your eyes are toward the stars right now, but this is way too dangerous for someone like you!”

“They need Fire Types to rescue the Pokémon that got lost in the forest. I can handle the fire!”

“But not the falling trees or lightning strikes,” Leo said. “Get out of here! Your flame is already halfway gone. I know how it’s supposed to look.”

The Bulbasaur whimpered. The wounds were fading, but the pain remained. He shivered in the mixture of cold rain and hot burns.

“We can’t leave him here,” Spice said. “Leo! Take this guy back and catch up. I’m gonna run ahead with Tee and Emby.”

“But, Spice—”

“Just go, Leo. You can’t run in that robe-fur of yours anyway. You’re soaking!”

Leo stammered disconnected, single syllables of protest.

Spice shoved the Bulbasaur into Leo’s arms and ran forward.

“Wait!” Owen ran after her. Leo, hanging onto the Bulbasaur, was in no position to stop him.

“Kid!” Leo said. “You idiot! You—Tauros-headed—” He grunted, but then ran away with the Bulbasaur. Better to save one Pokémon than chase another.

Ahead, Owen struggled to catch up with Spice. They had passed by Tee first, who fell back to assist with a pair of lost Paras. Next, they ran across Emby, guiding a Skiddo, Bellossom, and Shroomish away from the fire. “Any deeper and you won’t find anyone,” Emby warned. “It’s too hot for anybody that isn’t Fire to survive!”

But they pressed on, just in case. Spice was quick in the rain, and she wasn’t quite as bothered by it as the other Fire Types in the area. For the most part, Owen felt the same way—except when the water dripped against the flame of his tail. Every one felt like a thorn stuck inside the very tip, lodging itself like an electric shock that traveled through his spine and into his forehead.

He pushed through it all. His tiny legs were no match for Spice’s lithe, lanky stride. He had to admire being able to move so quickly—he fantasized about when he’d be able to evolve into a Charizard. He heard that sometimes, they could glide across the air by just outstretching their wings, using the updraft of their own heat to stay afloat. That’d be amazing!

“Are you seriously still following me?!” Spice said, looking back.

“M-maybe!” Owen puffed. “The fire’s this way!”

“You don’t say?!” Deeper into the woods, there was dying fire all around them, though the current path of the inferno was much further ahead. A hot spot—indicated by a brighter glow in the corner of their vision—was to the right.

“Just go back, kid. This is way too dangerous for someone like you!”

“I’m an adult! And I can handle myself! This fire’s nothing to me! Th-the rain’s kinda bad, but I can deal with the heat!”

“Ugh! Stubborn. Males are all the same,” Spice hissed. “Fine! Be a hero. But don’t cry to me when you wake up half-dead!”

Owen grumbled something under his breath and rubbed at his arms. He appreciated the intensifying heat. The flames licked at his scales, and Owen sighed. “At least it’s warmer here.”

“Speak for yourself,” Spice muttered, slowing down.

Owen, relieved, also slowed. “What do you mean?”

“Look, you Char-line ‘mons and other Fire-primaries have an easy time with fires, but me? I need to be a little more careful. You’re also lower to the ground, so the smoke can be a problem.”

“Aren’t you part Poison?”

“Still need air,” Spice said. “So, when you go running into the fire, don’t breathe it in, alright? Hold your breath and try to rescue as many Pokémon as you can. There might not even be any more.”

“B-but there are tons of Pokémon in Nightshade Forest! And Fires like me can breathe flames! And I mean—the wild ones probably ran off by now, but we need to be sure, right? We don’t want to find any corpses that we could’ve saved in the aftermath.”

“And that’s why we’re here.” Spice turned. She and Owen scanned the area; Owen demonstrated a strong awareness for the presence of others in hiding, but so far, there was nothing that either of them could detect. The burned forest was largely abandoned.

On their third advance, Spice remarked, “You know, you’re not too bad, Charm. Maybe I should invite you to my place.”

“E-excuse me?” Owen said.

Lightning struck a tree nearby, but not in the immediate area. Owen gasped and held his chest, feeling the boom rock him to his core. “What’s with this lightning?”

Lightning struck for a second time, and then a third, in rapid succession.

“I—I don’t think storms work this way!” Owen shouted.

“Let’s go! Before—”

A deafening explosion was accompanied by a bright light. Then, there was a wave of heat that Owen welcomed for only a split-second. A tree right behind Spice exploded from the blast, sending splinters and branches in all directions. Spice narrowly dodged one of them, but a heavy branch struck her on the shoulder. She grunted and fell back. Owen stared at the splinters with wide eyes and weaved through all of them, only getting hit by smaller ones that bounced away from his scales.

“S-Spice!” Owen rushed for her.

“Ungh, that’s not good,” Spice grunted. She couldn’t move her arm—it was dislocated. “Kid—you go on ahead. I need to fall back.” She used her good arm to position herself, and then she stood up.

Lightning struck yet again, and another tree exploded far in the darkness. “It’s getting worse,” Owen said, wincing when the rain intensified. His tail felt like it was being sawed off. He reflexively reached back and grabbed it, holding it beneath his chin to shield the flame from the downpour.

“H-h-help!”

Owen and Spice both turned. “Did you hear that?”

“Let’s go!”

With her good arm, Spice shifted her bag to a more convenient position on the other side of her chest and ran after him. Owen ran awkwardly with his tail under his chin, but he was careful not to actually make contact—by now, water was running down every inch of his body. Yet, the fire of the forest continued to rage; it was too hot and too extensive for the rain to put out quickly.

The smoke was thick here, and it mixed with hot water vapor. That would be a problem if Owen got too close. They must have been near the center of the inferno. Steam mixed with smoke and embers, rising in thick clouds that only contributed to more of the blotted sky. Spice was a lot lower to the ground, shambling through to get as much fresh air as she could. It was almost a crawl, albeit awkward with only one arm working.

Owen, shorter, kept up with his normal running pace.

Lightning struck again, and another tree shattered. This one was ahead, and Owen feared the worst.

A head-splitting, growling rumble shook the forest. Each vibration shook the water droplets on Owen’s scales. A tree tilted to the right. Spice was running straight toward it, wincing from a plume of smoke that caught her off guard.

“Spice!” Owen yelled. He grabbed her by the tail and yanked—his strength was miniscule, but it was just enough to save Spice from the trunk that had crashed mere inches in front of her face.

She flicked her tail away out of reflex, nearly whipping Owen with it, but then let out a little puff. “Thank you.”

Just ahead, Owen saw a Jolteon cowering in the middle of a clearing, as far from the fire as it could get.

“Aw, Mew, this isn’t any good—”

“Ugh, curse Mew, more like!” Spice said. “How long has he been there?” She rushed closer. “Hey! Hey, can you hear me?”

“H-help…” That was all he could say.

He was hot to the touch. His fur hurt to even get near—electricity arced from spike to spike. “You need to calm down.”

The Jolteon didn’t hear them.

Spice grunted and reached forward, clutching the Jolteon anyway. Electricity coursed through her in a painful pulse. “Nngh, listen here, you…!” she said. “Charmander!”

“Y-yes!”

“Oran Berry! Bag! Now!”

“O-okay!” Owen rummaged through his bag and grabbed one. He was about to pass it over to Spice, but another bolt of lightning crashed down, drawn straight to the Jolteon. It passed through Spice instead.

“SPICE!”

She could barely stand; a sharp, jagged pattern marked her back and an even worse pattern wrapped around her front. The Jolteon screamed in a panic, electricity from the bolt of lightning coursing through him next. He reacted with a countering jolt, shooting white arcs of electricity in all directions. Much of the blast went toward Owen who, still dripping wet from the rain, felt pain across his entire body. He could only moan in response and crumpled to the ground, seizing from the aftershocks through his muscles.

“S-Sp-Spice!” Owen wheezed.

Spice didn’t respond.

Another explosion. Somewhere far away, a tree collapsed. A second explosion followed, and another tree fell. A third explosion—this one was much louder. Owen struggled to stand, but nothing his mind desired was answered by his body. Rain pounded on his back, and the fire closed in. It was all too much. He just wanted to sleep. Owen’s eyelids fluttered, and his body stopped seizing.

Tiny hands grabbed Owen’s arm and rolled him over. “Hey. Hey. Wake up.”

Owen’s vision was too blurry. Scaly hands tried to peel his eyelids open. He grunted and turned his head. The visitor shoved an Oran Berry in Owen’s mouth, and then his hands maneuvered Owen’s jaw, forcing him to chew. Bits of the juice leaked down his throat—that was enough to give Owen the energy to keep eating.

Owen saw a Charmander in front of him. “H-hi?” he mumbled, delirious.

“Hey.” It sounded, and looked, exactly like him.

“Hey, me… Am I dead? Are you my dark side?”

“Nice greeting,” the other Owen said. “No. Can you stand?” He pulled Owen to a sitting position.

“No.”

“Try.”

“I can’t move my legs.”

“Right.” The second Owen let go, and Owen fell back with a grunt. The doppelganger rummaged through his bag.

“That’s mine, though,” Owen protested. “Oh, but you’re…” A brief moment of lucidity passed through him. “Spice!”

“Berry isn’t doing much, but I helped her already.”

“The Jolteon?”

Lightning, crash, fall. Lightning again, another crash.

“I’m working on it,” the duplicate said.

Owen watched his double sort through his supplies.

“Are you from the future?”

“No.”

The Charmander spun around and closed his eyes. Owen tilted his head, watching the odd maneuver. Was he suddenly blind? The second Owen groped the ground with one hand and held an Oran Berry in the other. He felt the Jolteon’s paw, and then immediately turned and faced Owen, staring at him while he shoved the berry in the Jolteon’s mouth, forcing more chewing.

Owen, unnerved, said, “Shouldn’t you be looking at him? Stop… stop staring at me. That’s weird.”

“Can’t.”

Lightning flashed. The downpour was intensifying; Owen could barely hear over it and the angry inferno around them.

“Where’s your Badge?”

“In my bag,” Owen said.

“Good.” He turned to the bag and rummaged through it again, pulling it out. He then walked backwards, staring at Owen the whole time, while he searched for the Jolteon again. Then, he tapped the Badge on the Jolteon’s forehead; it blinked, and a light enveloped him. In a flash, he was gone.

“Th-that was my warp!” Owen said. “Now we can’t get out! That was just Provisionary! It doesn’t have the juice for full-on rescue warps!”

“Better him than us.” He returned the now-useless Badge into Owen’s supply bag.

The harshest bolt yet crashed down right next to them, splitting another tree apart down to its roots. Flaming splinters scattered in all directions, and Spice, finally coming to, was struck by a few of them.

“Ugh—!” She rolled onto her front, wincing in pain. “What? Who are—?” She could barely speak; her scars weren’t healing from the Oran Berry that his copy had given her.

Owen’s double grabbed Spice’s bag, grabbed her Badge from it, and tossed the bag itself to her without looking. She snatched it from the air.

“Get out of here,” he said. “You’ve exhausted your supplies. Owen and I are going to keep going.”

“Owen and—what are you, twins?”

“No.”

“I’m not leaving until my mission is complete. And that mission is to—”

The mirror image tapped the Badge’s center and immediately threw it at Spice. She caught it with one hand. “Hey, you rude little thing, I’m the Heart here, and—” The Badge activated, and she was gone.

Owen stared. After a pause of disbelief, he blurted, “THAT WAS OUR OTHER WARP!”

Owen-two sighed, visibly relaxing. He looked at Owen. “There’s a Dungeon nearby that has Pokémon trapped inside. We need to get in there and help them get out. That’s where an Elite was sent, but I don’t think it’s going to be enough. Are you coming?”

Owen replied with self-interrupted protests, but then he grunted out a small ember. Lightning rapidly struck four times in random areas. After the strikes stopped, and Owen took his hands off his head, he grunted. “Let’s go.”

Owen followed his double; they ran at the exact same pace, had nearly the same gait, and were only slightly out of sync in their steps. “So, Owen! What’s—”

“My name isn’t Owen.”

“O-oh—um—Charmander?”

He hesitated. “Call me Deca.”

“Wait, how’d you know my name if you aren’t—?”

“I heard about you getting a provisionary Badge.”

“Oh.” Owen nodded. “So, wait, there’s a Dungeon in Nightshade Forest?”

“Small one. Showed up recently.”

“Showed up recently? How do Dungeons show up?”

“It’s some kind of flux of divine energy, and it lingers, creating the distortion. It’s like its own little world.”

“What causes it?”

“Working on that.”

Owen tripped on a flaming branch. “Ugh—”

Deca stopped and helped him up, tugging him over the branch.

“A-ahh!” Owen desperately pat his bag, but it had caught fire. The heat was outpacing the rain, and his bag was dry in some spots, and that was enough for it to burst into flames.

Impatient, Deca grabbed the bag, pulled out the Badge, and threw the rest away. “We need to go.”

“B-but that was expensive!”

“Do you want Pokémon to die?”

“N-no, but—”

Deca ran ahead with his eyes shut. Owen hesitated for only a fraction of a second, and then he was right after him, panting from all the running. He hoped Deca didn’t trip from running blind.

“Deca!” he shouted. “A-are you mad or something?! I’m sorry!”

“I’m not mad.”

“Then how come you’re talking so—”

“I’m concentrating.”

“What—”

“Dungeon ahead.”

They passed through a distortion of light, and the ground around Owen raised into its typical labyrinth, this time coated in burning wood, charred dirt, and glowing rocks. Water ran down the distorted labyrinth’s walls in small streams, which in turn filled the halls with a thick layer of steam. “The Dungeon’s on fire, too!?”

“Must have passed through the distortion,” Deca said, looking back. “The fire’s old.” Their feet sank into ashen mud.

The rain was still pouring, putting out the largest of the embers. The fire had been here for a while; the first segment had long since exhausted its fuel. But that meant the fire was more intense further in and—even worse—any Pokémon potentially trapped inside would be struggling to outpace it.

Deca rummaged through his own bag and pulled out a scarf, wrapping it around his eyes.

“Uh—”

“Guide me.”

“Excuse me?”

Deca had blindfolded himself. “Guide me.”

“O-okay, if you say so…”

He walked forward and took the lead through the Dungeon, but Deca suddenly slapped his tail.

“Excuse me!” Owen protested, blushing.

“Faster. I’m not slow.”

“Ugh!” Hot in the face, Owen sprinted forward—and, to Owen’s surprise, Deca kept up. Every time Deca fell forward, he brought his arms out and flipped in a sort of somersault, landing on his feet just behind Owen. So impressed by this, Owen didn’t realize the wall in front of him and he ran straight into it. His tail stiffened, then he slumped down with a groan.

“Don’t get distracted,” Deca said.

“Stop distracting me with those crazy moves,” Owen countered, rubbing his nose. He was bleeding from that one, but he ignored it. “What do you know, Acrobatics?”

“I know what you know.”

The fires intensified for every segment they went through. “How short is short?” Owen called over the roaring fire. The only thing good about the Dungeon was that lightning didn’t strike here. The deeper they went, the softer the explosions that echoed from the Dungeon entrance felt.

“No idea. It’s a new Dungeon, so it’s going to be smaller. No more than six distortion gateways.”

“G-got it.”

Owen counted four that they had gone through. The flames covered the ground for entire corridors; he had to hold his breath so he didn’t breathe in the smoke. The heat made it difficult to tell where the next distortion of light was, since essentially everything seemed distorted by the heat.

“We’re going in circles,” Deca said.

“I—I know, I’m trying to find a way out!” Owen said.

“They’ll die if we take too long.”

“I know!”

Owen took a spontaneous right. They got out of the fire, and Owen gasped for air. “Finally!” he said. “W-wait—no fire?”

“We caught up,” Deca said, adjusting the scarf around his head.

“That means the survivors are ahead, right?” Owen asked.

“Or this is a dead end.”

Something bright rushed past them, illuminating the halls that weren’t ablaze; Owen felt hot wind follow. “H-huh?” Owen looked back. “W-wait, that was—”

It was in the shape of a Lucario, but it was coated in some sort of blue light. Once he was far away from the heat, the light vanished.

“Th-that’s Lucario Rhys!” Owen said. “But he’s a Steel Type! How’d he even get down here?”

“He knows the way!” Deca shouted, pulling off his blindfold to stare at Owen. “Follow him!” He put the blindfold back on.

“O-okay!” Owen said. He briefly worried whether Deca would be able to follow him or not, but he had to move ahead anyway.

Thankfully, Deca kept up. Without the flames and the smoke, Owen finally had a clear enough head to think about this strange doppelganger. He’d met other Charmander before—mostly feral ones in the Hot Spot Dungeon, whose mannerisms constantly unnerved him. It was incredibly surreal to see someone that was the same species, and yet with a different capacity. It was one of the great mysteries of the world, in Owen’s mind—what the difference was between him, and a wild Charmander. Upbringing? No, even then, they were different. Their minds simply didn’t operate the same way.

Deca bumped up against Owen’s tail.

“S-sorry,” Owen said.

“Stop getting distracted.”

“Okay, okay.”

They continued to walk in silence, picking up the pace just slightly. The fire wasn’t moving quickly, to their fortune. They had time to find the survivors at the end of the Dungeon.

“What were you thinking about?” Deca asked.

“Wild Charmander.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just weird to think about,” he said. “I never saw another Charmander in a while that was like you.”

“Like me?”

“Not wild.”

“Oh. It’s different.”

“Yeah.”

Owen pulled his tail closer to inspect it. “Where are you from, Deca?”

“Southeast.”

“Oh, that’s not too far from here, I think,” he said. “Did you hear about trouble and came?”

“Yes. My friends and I wanted to help. Is there anybody around?”

“No, why?”

Deca took off his blindfolds and sighed, watching Owen’s back.

“Uh… okay,” Owen said. “And how come you have that? What’s keeping it from burning away?”

“It’s made from Rawst Leaves.”

“Oh! Mom has that for my bed.”

“Mom?”

“Y-yeah. She isn’t a Charizard, though. She’s a Gardevoir that took me in. Dad’s a Magmortar, though. I learned a lot of my Fire techniques from him.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. They’re just as good, and I never knew my real parents.”

Deca nodded, but then flashed a smile. “I’m sure they’re very proud of you.”

The confidence that Deca had said that made Owen hold his chest. “Y’think so?”

“I’m positive. You would make them very proud.”

Owen laughed slightly. He didn’t know why he believed Deca. Wishful thinking.

“How about your parents, Deca?” Owen asked.

“Dead.”

“O-oh. Sorry.”

“Of age. It’s okay.”

“Open with that next time!” Owen puffed an ember. “I thought it was something tragic, or, you know…”

Deca shook his head; the smile returned. “Well, you’re an adult, and you’re still a Charmander.”

“Don’t remind me,” Owen mumbled. “I’m a late evolver.”

“Late evolver?”

“Yeah. Do you think that’s real? Because it’s the only reason I think I’ve never evolved…”

“I guess it has to be real.”

A distortion of light was ahead of their next corridor. “That has to be the last section,” Owen said, “right?”

Deca nodded, putting his blindfold back on.

“Deca, why do you do that? With the blindfold.”

“Helps me concentrate. I can’t look at others that aren’t my kind without…” He shook his head. “It’s a disorder.”

“Oh, okay,” Owen said, deciding not to prod. The longer they stalled, the less time they would have before the fire caught up.

Once they passed through the distortion, a cool breeze welcomed them. With the Dungeon’s final section untouched by the flames, it seemed a lot safer than before. During their run, Owen had been speculating about who Deca was. But perhaps Spice had a point about the smoke and fire. And also, he supposed, being fried by a number of panicked Jolteon-born thunderbolts. All he could come up with were crazy theories, when perhaps the answer was something simpler, or just something else, if he only had the time to think about it calmly. But there was no such thing as calm tonight. He could only focus on one thing—the fire, and how to save the Pokémon inside the Dungeon from it.

“Wild Pokémon,” Owen repeated. “I hope they’re okay. They aren’t smart enough to go through Dungeons normally, right? So how would they escape the fire?”

“They may not have,” said Deca. “But if they got to the exit before the fire did, they’ll be okay.”

Just then, a cyan sphere went straight to Owen, stopping at a mere claw’s width away from his face. His eyes bulged and he let out the smallest squeak.

“I—I apologize,” Rhys said, flicking his paw backward. The sphere exploded against a far wall.

Owen’s legs turned to jelly; he sat down, rubbing where the Aura Sphere would have hit.

“I thought you were another agitated feral. We’re somewhat overwhelmed.”

“Y-yeah.”

Deca took a steady breath, holding the side of his head. “H-hello.” He stepped toward Owen and held his hand, helping him up.

Rhys stared silently at Owen’s double.

“H-hello, um, Lucario,” Owen said. “I—I’m Charmander Owen, i-if y-you heard of me. I—I tried o-out for the Hearts, but I didn’t make it y-yet…”

“It’s good to meet you, Owen,” Rhys said. “Continue trying. And you…”

“My name is Deca.”

“…It’s nice to meet you,” Rhys said, “Deca.”

“Do you need any help?” Deca asked.

“No.”

“You said you were overwhelmed.” Deca held Owen’s hand a bit harder. Owen glanced at his blindfold, and then back at Rhys. Deca’s forehead was creased with a hidden glare.

“We can help!” Owen said. “What do you need?”

“The fire is closing in,” Deca said. “The Dungeon might shift if we remain on this section for too long. The fire is running out of fuel outside.”

“It is? That’s good to hear,” Rhys said. “We may be able to wait it out, if we find a way to stop the fire.”

“Take us to everyone else,” Deca said.

Rhys stared at Owen, then at Deca. His paws clenched, the blue flames of aura seeping through the cracks. Owen noticed, though it was hard at first, that Rhys’ body seemed very fatigued. There were little bits of… some strange sort of blue plating flaking off from parts of his fur, like armor. But the armor dissolved in the air when it chipped off. Was that some sort of technique Rhys used to get past the fire? It would explain how a Steel Type like him even made it through… Owen also noticed that Rhys’ legs and arms shook with fatigue, and his breathing was deep.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked.

“Is now really the time, Rhys?” Deca asked. “Let us help. You can’t do this alone.”

Rhys snorted and turned around. “Let’s go.” He walked stiffly; the aura from his paws didn’t let up.

Owen followed next, and Deca, still holding Owen’s hand, followed after him. Owen tried to pull away, feeling awkward, but Deca just held on harder. “S-so, do you know Rhys?” Owen asked in a whisper.

“We’re familiar.”

“In, uh, in a good way? Bad way?”

“Bit of a rut.”

“O-oh.”

Rhys led them to a large room, perhaps the largest of the section, housing at least thirty other Pokémon, most of them native forest-dwellers, such as a Beautifly, Fomantis, Ariados, and Mightyena.

The Fomantis whined and hid under the Beautifly’s wings. The Ariados spoke softly, “How close is the fire?”

“I can smell it,” the Mightyena reported.

“One section away,” Deca said. “Does anybody know Water or Ground techniques?”

“It’s too strong for that,” the Fomantis said. “We can’t stop a fire that strong!”

“Who knows those techniques? Mud Slap? Mud Shot? Water Gun? Anything.” Deca held Owen’s hand a bit harder, and he jerked away. Deca aggressively pulled Owen closer.

“H-hey, what’re you doing?” Owen said in a whisper. “Personal space!”

Nobody answered Deca. None of the Pokémon knew anything to put out the fire.

“None of you, at all, know attacks that can put fires out?!” Deca shouted.

Still no answer.

Owen gently pressed his hand against Deca’s, but this time to feel the pulse in Deca’s wrist. It was increasing. He seemed to be constantly under some kind of strain, and the additional stress wasn’t doing him any favors. It must have been the rain. Even now, it stung their tails.

Rain.

Suddenly, Owen turned around, walking with Deca. He followed, blind. Owen closed his eyes, taking a slow breath. He brought his tail forward and hid it under his chin again, keeping it away from his chest so it didn’t get even more water.

Water collected on him. It could put his tail out if he wasn’t careful.

Owen scanned the group, counting all of the Pokémon. He breathed deeply, and then double-checked what sort of Pokémon he had to work with. Grass Types. Bug Types. And a few Dark Types, too. Nightshade Forest was a mysterious place—the techniques learned here were stranger and more strategic, accompanying their usual offensive attacks.

Could that work?

Would that—

Owen pointed at a Dustox. “Do you know Reflect or Light Screen?”

“H-huh? Of course! W-well, just the one. Light Screen.”

“I know Reflect!” a Ledian spoke up.

Owen nodded. “Who knows Sunny Day?”

At least half of the Grass Types raised their hands, paws, leaves, or tendrils.

“O-oh, okay.”

“S-Sunny Day?!” Rhys said. “Why would you—”

“Let him speak,” Deca said.

Rhys flinched.

“Barrier. Does anybody know Barrier?” Owen asked.

No answer.

“Nngh, not the best. H-how about Psychic?”

No answer.

Owen nibbled at his right hand’s claws. “Okay, okay…” The Charmander paced left and right, eyes darting in microscopic directions. Pieces snapped together in his mind.

He turned around, and then looked at the sky. “Everyone who knows it—try to use Light Screen or Reflect, but not on yourselves. Focus it on the sky. Try to shape it like a big bowl.

Owen scanned the room’s walls. Their little shelter was connected to two other areas by corridors. That wasn’t too bad. He watched the other Pokémon awkwardly try to use their techniques in this unintuitive way, like turning it upside-down. Almost instantly, the effects became apparent; rainwater collected above their heads. Realization washed over the group, and Owen saw a glimmer of hope in their eyes.

“Okay,” Owen said, trying to keep his voice steady from the excitement. “Try moving that barrier toward the halls! The left one, first, okay? N-no, other left! My left! Okay, keep going…”

Owen walked with the barrier, easing it closer. Rhys held up his hand and fired a strange Aura Sphere toward it. Suddenly, the Reflect-Light Screen was enhanced by solid aura at the base. It was a barrier of its own—the same sort of barrier that had surrounded Rhys when he ran through the flames. But the way Rhys was breathing heavily, and his tense muscles, suggested that it put a lot of strain on him. Owen knew to work quickly.

“Sunny Day! Now!”

“Wh-what?!”

“Just do it!”

At least one of the Pokémon obeyed. Localized only to this section of the Dungeon, the clouds temporarily parted, and intense, enhanced afternoon sunlight pierced through from the sky. Energy returned to Owen almost instantly, and he looked to Deca. “Help me light this hallway on fire.”

Deca staggered back. “What?”

“If we take out the grass now,” Owen said, “and put out the small fire we started, the big fire won’t have fuel to get to us! Hurry!”

The clouds were starting to close in again.

Deca nodded. “Okay.”

He and Owen both spat flames on the grassy terrain of the halls, starting from a farther end, and moving backwards and back into the room. The wet grass was hard to spark, but their combined flames overwhelmed the residual water enough to set the hall alight. The trapped Pokémon all watched, and Rhys let out a small grunt. The aura barrier he provided was fading.

The fire grew quickly under the intense sunlight. Too quickly for the comfort of the others. A few of the younger Pokémon shrieked and hid behind the older ones. The clouds returned shortly after, and Owen looked up. He pulled Deca back. “Drop the barrier!”

The water fell on top of the crackling flames; plumes of steam rose up, but it was just enough to put out the dying embers that were closest to them. The rest of the water flooded through the hall, thoroughly soaking the ground. Owen scrambled forward and slashed at the soil nearest to them with sharpened claws, hardened like metal. The water and mud splashed against his scales. Then, Owen plunged his paws into the dirt and pushed forward, huffing.

“Hey,” someone said from behind, moving Owen aside. It was the Mightyena. “I’ve got this.”

Owen panted, staring, but he nodded and stepped away.

With powerful paws, the Mightyena faced his rear against the hall and dug into the ground, creating a trench that quickly filled with water, and a mound of mud behind him. There was no way the fire could get past it.

“What’s happening?” Deca said.

“The fire’s out, and there’s a wall of mud blocking the way,” Owen said. “Let’s do it again! Other side! Reflect, Light Screen!”

“Right!”

And so, the barrier collected water for a second time. Rhys fired another Aura Sphere toward it to reinforce its strength.

“Nrgh…”

“Rhys?” Deca asked, but suddenly held onto Owen’s hand again.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Sunny Day!” Owen said.

The clouds parted once more, drenching them in warmth.

And they repeated the process again. Owen and Deca washed the hall with fire; the flames cleaned the ground of floral fuel. The barrier above Owen and Deca flickered. Rhys lowered himself to one knee.

“Hurry!” Rhys said. The Dustox and Ledian maintaining the dual-barrier looked equally strained; they had taken on too much water this time, and the weight was wearing away at the transparent bowl above them.

Deca stepped away and into the room. “The fire’s too close,” he said. “Owen! Let’s put it out!”

“Okay,” Owen said. “But hang on, it’s still too short. The fire could jump over the gap. Let it burn a little longer!”

Rhys had both his paws up, and he was on both knees, head down. His arms were trembling. By now, both Reflect and Light Screens had faded away; Rhys alone was holding up the water.

The clouds returned. Rain filled the bowl. Owen was standing in the flames, trying to accelerate the burning with extra plumes. This side was filled with much more grass; it needed more time to burn. He heaved another wad of embers.

Then, Rhys’ concentration slipped. The aura barrier vanished, and all of the water poured onto the fire—and Owen.

<><><>​

Owen had a strange dream about taking a hot bath in the pit of a white, featureless room. His tail was just above the water’s surface. Then, he saw Deca on the opposite side of the bath, laughing. And Owen laughed, too. He heard footsteps behind him. He turned around, but the fragile dream faded away.

Then, he felt cold—like ice, to the very core of his body. And then something tingled, and he felt warm again, starting from his belly, and then over his chest, and then his face. It smelled like Oran Berries.

His vision was blurry. Owen could only see the outline of something orange. Was it a mirror? A blurry, wobbly reflection of himself. Flames danced over his face, and Owen sputtered in surprise.

He blinked the blur away and squinted. Deca? He was saying something, but it was all muffled. There was concern in his eyes, but when Owen gurgled some sort of wordless reply, his double let out a laugh.

“He’s okay!” Deca shouted.

Owen heard cheers from a crowd. His ears rang, but that faded and gave way to more precise noises.

He sat up with a start. “What happened?!”

He sat up too quickly. His vision faded, and he held his head, breathing heavily. That, above all else, was the loudest sound—his own breathing unnerved him. He caught a glance at his tail, which was emitting a steady stream of steam, but no flame. Deca breathed a small ember at the tip; it tickled a bit, but then it reignited. This sent a slight jump-start to the rest of Owen’s system, and warmth spread completely after a few seconds of stillness.

Rhys stood in the distance, looking like he hadn’t moved in ages. He was fixated entirely on Owen, fidgeting with his paws, clenching his claws into the pads. He’d never seen a Heart look so guilty. A small crowd of the Pokémon that had been trapped previously were around him, just as others surrounded Owen to get a better look.

It wasn’t raining anymore, but it was incredibly dark. Owen turned his head to the sky and saw stars peeking through the burned treetops.

“Where am I?” he said. “Is this the Dungeon?”

“No,” Deca said. “The Dungeon rejected you when you got hit by the water.”

“Water…” Owen recalled trying to take out the fuel in the Dungeon halls. “Wait, Water! The—what happened to the—”

“It worked,” Deca said. “The fire got close, but it couldn’t clear the gap you created on both sides. We waited until the fire died on its own, and after that… We figured it would be safe where the Dungeon sent us out. And it was, so we circled back to the entrance to find you.”

Owen rubbed his fingers together, and then his arms. “Everyone’s okay?”

“Everyone that was with us made it out fine,” Deca said.

Owen breathed a small sigh. “Good,” he said. “I’m just glad that I survived. When the Dungeon rejected me, I thought some stray wild would’ve attacked me while I was down, or something. But—”

“Actually, we scared one of those ferals off!” one of the forest natives piped up. “It was such a weird creature!”

“Don’t be stupid, that wasn’t a feral! That was a guardian spirit, I just know it!” another native retorted.

“You and your ‘guardian spirit’ mumbo-jumbo.”

“No, it’s real! There have been sightings! A four-legged creature with a green and black body—exactly like I keep telling you! I’ve seen it!”

“Green-black and four legs? That sounds like Zygarde.”

“Maybe you should lay off the funny berries.”

Owen tittered. “So, some weird creature was guarding me?”

Deca nodded, as did the rest of the crowd. “That’s the consensus. But it ran off before we could thank it.”

Owen paused to silently thank this creature anyway. If it wasn’t Zygarde—which Owen wasn’t sure even existed—then perhaps it was some kind of forest guardian. After all, the trees of this forest were blackish and green. It could have just been camouflage. “And what about the fire?”

“It’s burning,” he said. “But we got everyone evacuated. All the wilds are… either dead, or ran away.”

“The fire started in multiple places due to some freak thunderstorm,” Rhys spoke up, and Deca refused to remove his eyes from Owen for the entirety of Rhys’ explanation. “This portion of the forest was trapped by a ring of fire, which was what caused us to send in the Fire teams to rescue the trapped Pokémon. We did our best to rescue who we could,” Rhys said, “but… obviously, we will have to perform a search for those who may not have escaped.”

Owen gulped. “What caused this…? This thunderstorm was… it was way too strong.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Deca said. “What matters is we made it out.”

By now, the bystanders—tired from the stress—were starting to disband. Now that they knew their savior was okay, they refocused on how to recover from the disaster. Despite their burned home, they still knew where to go. Rhys volunteered to help guide those who were less sure of themselves. After a passing glance at Deca and Owen, he grunted and walked.

“Rhys!” Owen shouted.

He stopped.

Owen paused, finding the words. “Thanks for helping! It’s—it’s okay! Everyone’s saved because of you!”

Rhys’ paws relaxed slightly. He gave a short nod, not looking back, and then walked away with the rest of the rescued Pokémon.

Owen shook his head. “He seems like the type who’ll beat himself up for a while over dousing me,” he said. “But, I don’t think it would’ve worked without his help.”

“He’ll reconcile,” Deca said. “Trust me. That guy will just turn it into more fire for him to do better next time. It’s not healthy, but as long as he doesn’t burn up from it, right?”

They both laughed. Owen finally found the strength to get on his feet. He eased his way into it. Deca held him by the shoulder and back to keep him steady until he could stand on his own.

“Thanks,” Owen said.

Deca nodded. “Thanks to you, too.”

Owen noticed that the strain in Deca’s voice was gone now that they were alone. “It’s too bad you’re so tense around others. I hope you can get better at that, huh?”

Deca smiled wryly. “I’ll do my best.”

Owen pulled his tail forward to inspect the flame. It was a healthy orange.

“Owen.”

“Yeah?”

Deca stared for a while. Owen sensed something from his doppelganger—a strange tension of some kind. Like he wanted to do something, yet couldn’t. His paws twitched forward, then pulled themselves back.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked. “L-look, if you’re gonna ask me out, I don’t know if I have the time for stuff like that. I’m training to be a Heart. I—I mean, you seem like a really nice ‘mon and all, but we barely know each other!”

Deca let out a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a laugh. He shook his head and fell forward, wrapping his arms around Owen. Startled, Owen could only take a step back, but that only made Deca squeeze tighter. He didn’t know what to say, let alone how to react, so he just stood there. Eventually, he brought his hand around Deca and patted his back.

“Hey,” Owen said, figuring this had to do with Deca’s social anxieties, “it’s alright. I bet it’s hard, but you can overcome it, right? Maybe with some meditation? That’s what helps my aura calm down. I dunno if it’s the same thing, but—"

“They’re so proud of you, Owen.” Deca trembled, the spasms shaking Owen.

“They—what?”

Deca kept holding onto Owen. He felt Deca’s hands press flat against his back; something stirred in Owen’s chest, and that advanced to his throat, and then his eyes. His vision felt blurry—tears welled up, and this sent him into a mild panic. “D-Deca?”

“Don’t forget that,” Deca said. “Okay? Don’t ever forget…”

Owen blinked, confused. His emotions weren’t matching his thoughts. His mind had no reason to think of anything about Deca other than the fact that he helped with the fire. Yet all he wanted to do was bawl and cry and stay with Deca the whole night. His heart raced, and he held Deca back. He kept his emotions together enough to speak. “Okay. I won’t… forget. I won’t forget.”

Deca kept holding him for what felt like forever, and yet still it wasn’t enough time. Owen wondered if Deca would let go at all. And if he didn’t, he wouldn’t complain. He kept holding on, memorizing the scales on Deca’s back. They were exactly like his own. Curious, Owen felt for the strange patch of scales whose pattern didn’t quite match the surrounding area—a small, natural irregularity of the body, much like a birthmark. And he found it in the same spot.

Eventually, Deca let go and pulled away. Owen was startled to see the streams of tears running down Deca’s face—a flow that was even greater than his own.

“What’s—what’s going on?!” Owen said, wiping his eyes. “Deca! Who—who are you? Do you know my parents?”

Deca laughed again. “Oh, Owen… I’m…”

Owen saw Deca’s hand glow with a strange light. Deca sniffled once. The hand that didn’t glow wiped his eyes. Owen mirrored the movement, clearing his vision.

“Good night, Owen.”

“Wh—”

Deca tapped Owen on the forehead with his glowing hand. Owen’s thoughts grew muddled. In an instant, it all faded to nothingness.

<><><>​

Deca’s ears still rang from the roaring flames. Not only that, but his mind was completely fatigued. He had been doing the mental equivalent of holding his breath for at least half the night, now. The identical Charmander stared down at Owen in his arms, struggling to carry him along—after all, they were completely identical in weight and—more importantly—strength. Owen needed to work out more.

“Mnngg, more apples,” Owen mumbled. His tongue dangled from the side of his mouth, a bit of drool dripping onto Deca’s right arm.

Deca sighed, but he couldn’t hide his smile. But his heart sank back down. It wouldn’t be long, now.

He had to admit, it was a peaceful place. Calm, open field. A hot cave for him to live in, even if it was just due to the Fire Guardian’s antics. It seemed nice enough. There weren’t any particularly interesting landmarks this way, either, which made it quite secluded thanks to travelers just using Waypoints to skip over this path entirely.

“You’ve got a good life, Owen,” Deca said. “I’m… not going to lie to myself and say otherwise.”

“Too sweet,” Owen babbled. “Needs Cheri…”

Deca sighed. He carefully set Owen down, making sure his tail rested against the dirt and not the grass, and then eyed the great boulder ahead of him. His hand glowed with a Mystic power, and he held his hand forward, toward the boulder. He swung his arm to the side.

Nothing happened.

“Ngh.” Deca tried again. The glow, the swipe. Nothing. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that strong.” And so, he tried again. Not even a wiggle.

“How are you supposed to open this thing?!” Deca mumbled. “Password. There’s supposed to be a password, right? Ngh, what’s a…” He paced, tapping his chin. Every so often, he glanced at Owen, and each time he did so, it was like a breath of fresh air in his mind. “Open… now!” Deca shook his claws toward the unmoving boulder. “Open… Hot Spot Caverns! Open… sesame?” He knew it wouldn’t work, but he was desperate. After a full fifty seconds of staring, Owen snorted in his sleep. Deca jolted and spun around. But the sleeping Charmander didn’t stir.

And then, Deca watched Owen for a while, entranced by him. He stared at the gentle rise and fall of his back and the flickering, lively flame at the end of his tail. The small, subtle frown while he slept, like he was pensive about something in his dreams. Probably whether he should use Cheri or Tamatos to cut through the sweetness.

Deca took a single step forward, and then another. He was right in front of Owen, now. He leaned forward and picked him up; Owen hummed in response, bumping his head against Deca’s cheek.

And he stayed there. Despite the dead weight, Deca stayed there, wrapping his arms around the Charmander double, memorizing every single scale that he could. He felt hot tears welling up again. They poured slowly onto Owen’s shoulders, and then to the ground. Deca stared with a fierce glare against the air ahead of him. He finally let Owen go, wondering if it would be the last time.

With a resolute glint in his eyes, he faced the boulder, sat on the ground, and concentrated. He took a steady breath…

O Holy Creator Mew. Deca projected. I call upon you to hear my prayer. Deca paused for a bit longer, and then dug his claws against his thighs. It was just a formality, really. Any sort of thought toward her would have been sufficient. But, from what he knew, prayers tended to be louder if he started politely. The same didn’t have to go for the rest of what he had to say, and his thoughts became a few tones harsher.

A few days ago, Owen failed to become a Heart again. Didn’t pass Anam’s final check. Flying colors with the practical exam… yet never past Anam himself. Always the same story, year after year. No wonder he took on this horrible mission, just to prove that he could do a Heart’s job.

Deca looked down, glaring at the dirt. Kricketot were chirping. Deca counted their cries four times in sequence, like a little conversation among the wilds.

Is that your plan? Deca said. When Anam deems Owen worthy of becoming a Heart, he’s ready for the Orb? And do you think he’ll be ready for what comes next, too?

Three chirps. Deca wondered if she was even listening, or if she was just stubbornly sitting in her own little realm, ignoring the world’s problems as usual. She needed an ultimatum.

Star… if we find an Orb first, we’ll figure out how to take the rest. And your defenses won’t be enough once we have the power of one Orb. When that happens… you better be ready. Because I’m done waiting.

Deca ended the prayer there. He brought his arm to his eyes and wiped them dry, and then glanced back at Owen. He let out a gentle curse from his breath and stared ahead. He wanted to finish on an awesome one-liner, but now he had a sleeping Charmander out in the cold.

…Also, can… can you tell the Fire Guardian to open her cave? Owen’s asleep and I don’t know how to open it.

With that final message, Deca stood to his feet and turned around to looked at Owen one last time. He figured he only had a few more seconds. He walked over and gently held Owen’s shoulder. His eyes clouded once more, but he shook it off.

“I’m sorry,” Deca said.

And then, when the boulder behind him rumbled, Deca bolted into the night.

 

[Ambyssin]

So, Deca's a spirit, I take it. One like James or Alex that can fully manifest and go about doing whatever the heck it wants to. That... seems like the conclusion I could draw from all of this. I don't really think Deca is Owen unless Star has some sort of power split spirits/consciousnesses. Perhaps, when alive, Deca was, like, Owen's identical twin or something? He's still a fire-charmander, which means Amia had to be the one who manifested him. Perhaps Deca died and Owen's memories of the whole thing were wiped as a result of either Star or Nevren. Amia might've manifested him to help with the fire, but he discovered Owen and, in the process, things went a bit off the rails. Perhaps it's Deca's cryptic way of saying Owen should consider Amia and Alex to be his real parents? I still think Owen's parents are Hunters... with at least one being Eon. Maybe the other parent got upset and tried to run off with both kids, but only succeeded in getting Deca? But I suppose it's possible that his parents died at some point and he and Deca were split up, with Owen falling under the Hunters' care and Deca ending up somewhere else until he eventually becomes one of Amia's spirits. Considering Rhys seems to know Deca, I'm willing to bet it's got something to do with all of that. It's hard to say considering that this special episode has nothing to really tie it into the main story. Not even a brief scene to bridge things over.

And that is my primary thought about the special episode as a whole. Writing-wise, you did a fine job. The descriptions of the fire are pretty snappy. The dialogue from the Hearts(?) is suitably panicked. And I thought the little makeshift wildfire trench was a neat idea. It's just... outside of the end with Deca, I'm really not sure what the point of this was supposed to be. When I look at a bonus part or a "special episode" in a PMD fic, I'm generally looking for it to feature characters from the story who are aren't the main protagonists and/or bridge together with the main story, either by showing something that took place concurrently with events we've already seen or, for a flashback, using at least one scene to connect it to the present. If it's not going to do either one of those then my personal preference is that the part be used to further build up the world you've created. This part... doesn't really do any of those things. It stars Owen, just as the rest of the story has, and features Rhys. It's not adding to the worldbuilding since it's focused on an action set piece. And, as you noted when advertising it on Serebii, it's almost entirely self-contained. There are a couple of bits that reading the story will give a deeper meaning to, but it's not huge. I mean, you positioned this at a good time, since it's right before the part in the story where the different factions will hunt for other guardians. Still, I can't help but wonder if there was a better way to go about this?

I think the thing that rubbed me the wrong way about this is that we, the readers, have absolutely no idea if Owen even remembers these events. It's been pretty well-established that Owen's memories have been tampered with a lot. But, like, you'd think going through a raging wildfire with someone who looks like your identical twin and then disappears after a cryptic conversation would stick with Owen. But we're 11 chapters in and we've never seen mention of these events, leading me to believe Owen doesn't remember them. So, that really ups the degree of self-containment of this part. Do I think that Deca will eventually factor into the story proper? I'd say so, yeah. But given the lack of foreshadowing about this, I can't help but feel like this is very disjointed.

Sorry if that sounded negative. Like I said, as a standalone, one-off, I think it's a nice little action romp. I think what this ultimately is a good way to "promo" your fic, so to speak. You ever hear of Free Comic Book Day? Where comic publishers print free, one-off stories designed to entice new readers by showing off the world and characters? This is what the special feels like to me. Something that could get you more readers and, for those already following, extra content that doesn't add all that much, but is still fun to read. I hope that makes sense. <.<;

A squadron of Pokémon consisting of a Flareon, Delphox, Salazzle, and Rapidash stopped to avert their eyes.

Look at this furry bait team... oh, and Rapidsash.

“Spice! Pick it up!”

What is it with you and giving your ladies names that sound like prostitues? Star the Mew, Spice the Salazzle... good grief!

He tried to grab her again, but Spice whipped Leo with her tail, binding his arms against his body.

Kinky. How very in-character for a Salazzle. Hey, don't like at me, you're the guy who's writing this stuff.

Spice then shoved her mouth against the Bulbasaur’s, promptly stopping the rest of Leo’s retort. Spice forced the mashed berry into the Bulbasaur’s larger mouth and down his throat with an amount of practiced ease that unnerved Leo.

Oh come on, are we serious, here? e_e

“Ugh! Stubborn. Males are all the same,” Spice hissed. “Fine! Be a hero. But don’t cry to me when you wake up half-dead!”

Salazzle? More like... Sasslazzle, m i rite? :V

On their third advance, Spike remarked, “You know, you’re not too bad, Charm. Maybe I should invite you to my place.”

“E-excuse me?” Owen said.

Owen has his way with all the lizard ladies, apparently. What would his mother think about this?

“Hey, me… Am I dead? Are you my dark side?”

“Nice greeting,” the other Owen said. “No. Can you stand?” He pulled Owen to a sitting position.

"Ohhhh... Mom's gonna kill me when she finds out I got split in half by Dark Meta Knight."
Alternatively...

“Are you from the future?”

“No.”

GREAT SCOTT! ... oh, wait, he said no.

Owen stared. After a pause of disbelief, he blurted, “THAT WAS OUR OTHER WARP!”

"Damn it, me! You need to learn to consult me before making reckless decisions!"

“It’s okay. They’re just as good, and I never knew my real parents.”

Deca nodded, but then flashed a smile. “I’m sure they’re very proud of you.”

This line's gonna be hella harsh in hindsight if Owen turns out to be Eon's kid like I'm thinking.

Deca held Owen’s hand a bit harder, and he jerked away. Deca aggressively pulled Owen closer.

C'mon, Deca. A fire rescue is not the time for impromptu experimentation.

“Don’t be stupid, that wasn’t a feral! That was a guardian spirit, I just know it!” another native retorted.

Huh. Uh... we interrupt this interruption to our Pokémon Mystery Dungeon story to bring you the Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, apparently.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked. “L-look, if you’re gonna ask me out, I don’t know if I have the time for stuff like that. I’m training to be a Heart. I—I mean, you seem like a really nice ‘mon and all, but we barely know each other!”

Owen confirmed bi, I guess.

 

[namohysip]

outside of the end with Deca, I'm really not sure what the point of this was supposed to be. When I look at a bonus part or a "special episode" in a PMD fic, I'm generally looking for it to feature characters from the story who are aren't the main protagonists and/or bridge together with the main story, either by showing something that took place concurrently with events we've already seen or, for a flashback, using at least one scene to connect it to the present.

You've got a really strong point here. I discussed this with you (and my betas) a bit further privately, and as a direct reaction to this feedback, I've added an extra scene at the very end. At the very least, it does one of the things that you mentioned: a connection from the Special Episode into the present, particularly how it ties into the events of the first few chapters, just one year later.

You ever hear of Free Comic Book Day? Where comic publishers print free, one-off stories designed to entice new readers by showing off the world and characters?

You know, that's probably what's going on here. This Special Episode sorta counts as a one-off, and also a pre-prologue, with that new addition mentioned above.

Kinky. How very in-character for a Salazzle. Hey, don't like at me, you're the guy who's writing this stuff.

Oh come on, are we serious, here? e_e

Hey, it's very in-character for a Salazzle, as you said. But at least she's using her, uh, powers productively!

 

[canisaries]

A squadron of Pokémon consisting of a Flareon, Delphox, Salazzle, and Rapidash stopped to avert their eyes.

So two furries, a scaly and a brony walk into the woods...

Maybe you heard of me?!

Hmm, I mean, it probably sounded like it, but it kinda looks jarring to me written down. Talking about "you" in place of "you've".

guiding a Skiddoo

*Skiddo

On their third advance, Spice remarked, “You know, you’re not too bad, Charm. Maybe I should invite you to my place.”

This Salazzle's a bit of a Swedish-word-for-end.

“Better him than us.” Deca returned the now-useless Badge into Owen’s supply bag.

Deca's called Deca before his name is revealed. You can bet I was confused for a while there.

which was emitting a steady stream of steam

Try saying that ten times fast.

“No, it’s real! There have been sightings! A four-legged creature with a green and black body—exactly like I keep telling you! I’ve seen it!”

whoa which scp is this

I can see what you meant with people speculating a lot, as this awakens a whole lot of it. I'm gonna have to tell you that I don't have a lot, unfortunately, as not only am I generally trash at keeping track of lore but I also had like a six hour migraine today so my brain's not really cooperating at the current moment. But if I had to vomit my brain onto the keyboard right now it would look something like "Rhys definitely started that fire somehow and Deca's Rim before she got weird maybe idk".

Anyway I liked the creative usage of Light Screen / Reflect. I had some trouble keeping up with what was happening at some points but it's very likely to have been my brain so I won't go into detail on that (unless you want me to on, say, Discord, because I'm there like all the time).

 

[namohysip]

Thanks for the review, Canis--hope that migraine gets better soon! And despite everything, you still ended up giving some speculation that's different from everyone else's speculation, leading to four unique sets of theories that I've gotten from this chapter alone!

So two furries, a scaly and a brony walk into the woods...

I swear this was not what I was intending.

Deca's called Deca before his name is revealed.

Whoops! I'll patch that out.

I had some trouble keeping up with what was happening at some points but it's very likely to have been my brain so I won't go into detail on that

Hmm, I don't recall anybody else having that issue, but then again, it wasn't the most consequential piece of the chapter, either. The gist of it was pretty clear, but I think I'll take a double-check on it anyway in case some parts could've been better phrased.

Okay. Time to get ready -- either tonight or tomorrow, I'll be releasing the next chapter. We'll finally return to the main plot!

 

[namohysip]

Chapter 12 - Twisted Minds​

Anam, and only Anam, heard the deep boom of metal bells.

The Abandoned Temple—the original name lost to the ages—stood four stories high, despite only having a single story inside. The building was made out of marble with intricate designs along the walls in the shape of spirals, flowers, and all sorts of Pokémon. A broken, circular window of colored glass gazed from the top of the temple. Several rounded, tall windows sat along the walls. What the windows depicted, unfortunately, was difficult to decipher, as most of the glass was gone. But Anam remembered. He saw the windows as if they were still new, depicting the Pokémon of legends.

While the temple may have once been a pristine, white marble, it was now reddened with the dusty winds of dirt and time, sitting in the middle of an empty field of brown, dry dirt, like even the grass refused to grow there.

“What a loud bell,” Anam said, a serene grin spreading across his face.

The boom reverberated through Anam’s mind: a deep metallic echo that shook the ground beneath his feet and the goo in his chest. It rang slowly, once, twice, three times…

Zena and James exchanged glances. The Milotic eyed Anam with concern. “What?”

“Don’t you hear it?” Anam asked.

He listened to it chime three more times. His feelers twitched at the vibrations, and Anam pointed his head skyward, toward the topmost tower at the center of the temple. There was no bell there, but Anam could see it. Swinging with the wind and the rope of the bell ringer a room below. The bell ringer that was no longer there. But he used to be. A strong Tyranitar. Anam wondered, would he like to ring it again?

The temple was silent.

“No, Anam. This place is completely devoid of noise,” Zena said. “I think we’re the loudest thing on the property.”

Yet, the Goodra stared at the building for a while longer.

It rang three more times. Anam felt something well up from deep in his chest. A strange swelling of warmth. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes with a tranquil smile. And then, he breathed out.

The bell stopped after the ninth ring. Anam put a hand to his chest.

“Do you like it?” Anam asked to neither Zena nor James, holding a hand to his chest. “It’s okay. It might be fun.”

Confused, Zena slithered a few paces forward. “We should not waste much time. Shall we enter? The Normal Guardian is inside.”

“Yes. Come, Anam.”

Anam followed silently, but he walked at a slow, agonizing pace. His slimy hand brushed against the dusty walls of the entrance. There was no door, but it looked like there used to be.

The interior was like night and day, and Anam’s eyes shined so brightly that Zena almost had to avert her own. The marble walls on the interior were cleaned to a blinding shine; the open room was completely clear of debris. At the far end was some kind of altar. It looked like a Pokémon would stand there to address a crowd. Faded murals—so faded that the actual contents were unrecognizable—lined the high walls and broken windows.

“I’ve never seen a building like this before,” Zena said. “This is nothing like Kilo Village. Or even Hot Spot.”

“Hrm,” James hummed. “It is of a time long passed, Zena. A relic. This used to be a place of worship, back when Kilo had a significant interest in such things. While we still have a few ceremonies now and then, we’re quite secular. Kilo Village used to host congregations every moon, and this temple was one of those places of worship. It may be one of the few ones standing. For why the Normal Guardian would reside within…” James fluffed out his feathers. “I’m not quite sure. Star said he was quirky. Perhaps he’s spiritual.”

“Aren’t we all technically… spiritual?” Zena repeated, looking at one of her ribbons as it formed a small, aura ember.

“Hm. Good point.”

Anam advanced, and Zena and James followed until they all reached the middle of the room. With a smile on his face, he walked straight toward the altar at the back of the room with an eager spring in his step.

Click.

Anam’s foot sank into the tile and he stopped his advance. “…Was that bad?”

“Very,” Decidueye James replied, puffing out his feathers. “Anam, whatever you do, do not lif—”

Anam lifted his foot.

The fiery explosion that followed sent Anam, Zena, and James flying in completely opposite directions. The ground shifted instantly; the floors collapsed in patches and rose in others. Spikes skewered tiles from below, and strange, metal stalactites fell from above. A giant spike shot out from one wall and went straight for—

“Pfwoooh—!” It pinned Anam against the wall; the huge, stone thorn went right through his gooey chest, narrowly missing his heart—if he had one. He brought his slimy hands over it and tried to push it away, but it was jammed in too tight. His paw disintegrated into goo from the strain. “J-James!” Anam called in a gurgle, waving his handless, melting arm. “Help! I’m stuck!”

“Can’t quite help at the moment!” James replied, narrowly dodging a concentrated beam of light that carved the stone ground that it struck. Anam finally pushed the stone spire free and dropped to the ground with a loud splat, his lower half becoming a purple mush on the ground. He needed a few seconds to recreate himself—it seemed that as a Mystic, the goo half of his kind was very pronounced.

“Is this the Guardian’s doing?!” Zena called to James, emerging from the ground. She was hiding in cracks of the temple’s ruined foundation as water, hoping to avoid the Normal Guardian’s strikes. Another Hyper Beam spooked the Milotic enough for her to hide within the cracks again.

“I’m quite certain!” James vanished in a fine, black mist, dodging a second Hyper Beam. Something about these blasts felt dangerous even for his Ghostly nature. “He must feel threatened by this. Perhaps Rim already tried to defeat him. Clearly, she failed!”

Zena emerged halfway to speak. “We haven’t even seen him yet!” she said. “Where could he be coming from?” Another blast of concentrated light carved a line out of the ground, leaving molten marble in its place. “These beams are coming from every direction! Surely he can’t Teleport and use Hyper Beam at the same time!”

“I doubt that is the case,” James said, “but it is possible. But I’ve seen this strategy before… These might be a variant to Owen’s approach when he battles. Traps. Hyper Beam-traps, perhaps stored in empty Wonder Orbs, or—” James jumped to the right. A passing spike tore off a feather from his face. “Urf—the actual Guardian might be deeper insi—” Another line of hard light vaporized James where he stood, and he became nothing but an ember that returned to Anam’s body. Even a Ghost Type was not immune to these attacks.

“Oops,” Anam said, cupping James’ spirit in his good hand. He dipped him into his chest, where the ember vanished completely. “Um, Z-Zena! Let’s try to keep going!”

Thankfully, it seemed that the traps had exhausted themselves. Aside from the ambient sounds of rubble collapsing in small pieces against the walls, there were no further attacks.

Anam used his hands to piece his lower half back together. So far, he had most of his belly and tail reconstructed, but he couldn’t find any spare material for his legs. He puffed his cheeks and pushed—new little feet popped out from the base of his thighs, followed by the rest of his missing appendages. He sprung to his feet, and Zena marveled at the Guardian’s regenerative abilities. If any of that happened to her, she’d be nothing but a dead puddle.

“Of course,” Zena finally said. She returned to the cracks and advanced further into the temple. They passed the altar and entered a back room. The further they went, the more it appeared to be… less abandoned. The entrance was a crumbling stone palace—mostly due to the traps that had gone off—but further inside, the walls were back to their pristine polish, constantly maintained, like it was an eternal routine.

Anam panted, tiny arms on the ground. “Th-this is way too much running… Why is this temple so big on the inside? It’s not a Dungeon, is it?”

“You’re Mystic. Can you not just restore your own stamina?” Zena asked.

“Anam is… typically focused on other aspects of his Mysticism,” James said, summoned again by Anam. “He largely focuses on self-preservation and high defenses rather than… offensive prowess.”

Zena stared at Anam with a flash of a memory in her eyes. “That reminds me of an old friend,” she remarked. “Anam, do you happen to know an Emily?”

“Huh?” Anam said. “What did you say? Emily? That sounds…”

“Let’s not get distracted,” James said. He pointed a wing forward. There was a single Pokémon there, floating at the back of the smaller room. Twitching. Watching. “Are you the Guardian?”

It was a strange Pokémon with a smooth surface—one that Zena had never seen before. Anam and James, however, knew of its kind.

The Porygon-Z buzzed with anxiety. “You do not have permission to create a guest account!” he said. His voice was like a buzz in the air, as if he was speaking through the crackle of a Thunder Shock at all times. “403 - Forbidden! Access to the back rooms is not allowed! Those traps should have deleted you!”

“Deleted?” James said. “Strange terminology, Porygon-Z, but we mean you no harm. We have no intention of deleting you, either. Yes?”

“Authentication required.”

James sighed, glancing at Anam. “The Badge, if you may.”

“Oh!” The Goodra dug through the bag partially submerged in the right side of his chest and pulled out the circular emblem. “This! Yep! That’s my Thousand Heart Association Badge! I’m the leader, and our entire purpose is to make this place safe and peaceful for everyone! Including you!”

Porygon-Z buzzed with uncertainty. “Your data has not been verified and may be corrupt. Checksum required!”

James blinked. “…I do not know what that is,” he said, “but I imagine this has something to do with your species’ strange origins. I can assure you that we are not lying. Anam is a fellow Guardian, as is Zena. Meanwhile, I am a spirit, here solely because of the power of a very kind Mystic.” He pointed a wing at Anam, who blushed and giggled.

Porygon-Z stared at the two, and then looked at Zena. “Are you a Guardian?”

“Yes, of Water,” Zena replied. “I am Zena. This is James and Anam. What is your name?”

“Profile data corrupted. Fallback data in use: I was once designated as an Absolutely Deadly Autonomous Machine. Therefore, my name is ADAM.”

“ADAM, huh?” Anam said. “That’s close to my name! Except you spell yours out. And it’s a D instead of an N. Can we just call you Adam?”

“That is my primary PC title,” ADAM said. “Such a title is reserved only for users with administrative permissions.”

“Oh, okay,” Anam said. “Well, you can use my name whenever you want! I’m Goodra Anam.”

“It seems that the Porygon-Z still has a sense of culture,” James said. “How long have you been here?”

“The word ‘here’ must be further defined.”

“In this temple. How long has this been your home?”

“I have lived within this temple for approximately 1.5e10 seconds, base ten,” stated ADAM.

Anam counted on his gooey fingers.

“I see,” James said. “I imagine this is a very long time? How long does that compare to the lifetime of the average Pokémon?”

“Compared to my time in this temple, the average life of a Pokémon, is not negligible, but is significantly smaller.”

“So, a really long time,” Anam said, nodding. “Um, mister ADAM, does that mean maybe your… brain… head… has been damaged and corrupted?”

“My hardware is incapable of degrading due to Mysticism,” ADAM replied. “…But perhaps my software requires repairing, and my file system, defragmenting. The data may be corrupted. However, I cannot reinstall my own operating system. Those files may have also been corrupted.”

Anam nodded, noticing that ADAM was starting to become easier to understand. Perhaps when he wasn’t so frantic, his instincts didn’t in the way of his behavior.

“Well, would it help if you came with us to… rest… your software?” Anam asked. He leaned toward James, “What’s a software? That sounds like a Nev-Nev thing. Like those screens in the hospital, or those little beep-boops in the new buildings.”

James shook his head. “ADAM, we only request that you come with us,” he said. “Such a temple is not suitable to a Pokémon such as yourself.”

“Oh, yeah!” Anam said. “And if more Hunters come by, we can keep you safe!”

“Hunters are not a security threat,” ADAM said. “More persistent are Pokémon that do not appear in my database, but instead appear to be corrupted files.”

“Mutants,” James said. “If I am not mistaken, you are describing mutants. I imagine such a landmark would pique what semblance of curiosity they have.” He nodded. “We can protect you against those, too, ADAM.”

The Porygon-Z analyzed James carefully, then Zena, then Anam. He then scanned—for the umpteenth time—his polished temple. While Anam could not see an expression on the Pokémon’s face, he did feel his distinct lack of interest in the temple at large. “Very well,” ADAM said.

“Nice!” Anam pumped his fist in the air. A wad of slime flung from his hand and toward ADAM, who drifted to the side to avoid it. The Goodra pulled out their silver Badge, the communicator. “Hey, everyone! We have the first Guardian! He’s okay! He’ll come with us, and he’s super cool! …Guys? Hello?”

“They may be occupied,” James said. “Let’s return home.”

<><><>​

The World’s Wound.

That was the other title of the Great Crevice, among many lesser nicknames. Nature’s Scar. The War’s End. All sorts of titles and nicknames for the great fissure that carved out a large portion of the land’s eastern side. On the map—the only place one could truly see its full size without entering the outer atmosphere—its lower, tapered end kissed the southeastern beaches, while the upper end was much like an expanding fan, covering an entire portion of the map in the shape of a jagged, narrow triangle. While swaths of the northern portions of the fissure were clothed in forestry, the narrower portions were still steep and rocky.

Rhys and his terrible trio followed the subtle traces of Mystic aura that radiated from a cave near the northern side of the narrow portion of the fissure. Star knew that general detail, but nothing more. They had spent the better part of the afternoon simply finding the cave.

It might have taken less time, had it not been for the fact that Demitri took longer than anyone to go down the rocky trails of the fissure. His legs trembled with almost every step, hugging the wall despite the fact that the path itself was several feet wide. Eventually, Mispy wrapped him up and held him on her back, where he still trembled.

“Are you okay?” Mispy asked, squeezing her vines around his abdomen.

“Yeah. I’m… I’ll be okay.” He nuzzled the vines a bit.

“Feh, still scared o’ heights?” Gahi clicked at Demitri in a jeer. “Too bad yeh’ll never grow wings.”

“Good!” Demitri squeaked, hugging Mispy’s neck from behind.

They continued along until Rhys held out his paw. “There.” He pointed at a small alcove in the fissure. “I sense a Mystic aura coming from this general area, and there’s a small cave here. The Guardian of the Rock Orb is somewhere inside, certainly.”

“N-no more cliff-climbing?” Demitri asked. As if to provoke him, a howling gust wind blew over the rocks.

“No. Let’s go inside.” Rhys motioned for them to follow, taking the first step into the lightless cave. He held out an Aura Sphere and maintained it several feet in front of him, producing a soft light to lead the way.

“Finally.” Gahi wobbled next to Rhys.

With the cliffsides far enough away to forget, Demitri relaxed his muscles and flopped forward on Mispy’s back. Now, he was just cautious of the cave. Rocks wouldn’t fall on them, right? No, he had to distract himself from this. He stared at the Aura Sphere that lit the way, thinking about how if Owen had been with them, they wouldn’t have needed it. The blue color was more comforting, though. It reminded him of dragon fire.

“Rhys?” Demitri asked. “What’s wrong with having Owen with us for this, anyway? I feel like we’d work really well together.”

Mispy perked up, as did Gahi, for the answer.

“It’s simply not a good idea to have four non-Elites in one team for something such as this,” their mentor stated. “We need to have strong and competent members—both qualities in one Pokémon—on all teams. You three simply aren’t experienced enough yet. The same goes for Owen, who just entered the Thousand Hearts.”

Demitri frowned. “I guess…”

“Just feels like…” Gahi tilted his head left and right. “I’unno. Fighting with’m feels… right, y’know? The four of us as a team. Yeah…”

“Well, that simply cannot happen right now,” Rhys said simply. “Let’s focus on the task at hand. That is—the Guardian of the Great Crevice, home of the Rock Guardian.”

They turned another corner; they finally saw it. It was very faint, but it was a glow visible even to those who couldn’t see auras, like Demitri and Gahi. They continued to walk in total silence.

It only broke when Demitri spoke up. “Rhys?”

“Hm?”

“What’s a Divine Promise? Owen was talking about it with us. Something between you and Zena?”

“Hmm…” Rhys continued walking. “It is something that only Mystics can do—that is, those with powers related to the Orbs. Simply put… making a Divine Promise is keeping yourself to your word—or face the consequences. In the case of a Promise… breaking it would mean relinquishing your Mystic power to the Pokémon you made the promise with.”

“Y-you mean, if you broke your Promise with Zena, then…!”

“Then I would no longer have any form of Mysticism. I would not have enhanced power. I would be nothing but a simple, mortal Lucario.” Rhys turned to look back at Demitri. “That is why Zena was so surprised when I accepted the agreement. Even the cleverest Pokémon in the world cannot break a Divine Promise without also losing their power. I phrased my Promise in such a way that there is no loophole—or, if there is one, I hadn’t thought of it.”

“W-wow… so you really don’t want to be a Hunter any more, huh?”

“I do not,” Rhys said with a bit more firmness than before, making Demitri flinch. His voice softened after. “Long ago, I fought for Star. But some fought harder, I suppose. And Star became disillusioned with her own cause, and asked for us to stop. We thought she was simply losing heart, and we pressed on. But I later realized that some Hunters… simply wanted more power. It had nothing to do with Star.”

“O-oh, and… and Nevren is the same way?”

Rhys nodded. “It seems that Nevren has quietly distanced himself from the other Hunters, too,” he said. “I haven’t seen him with the others for quite some time, even if we chat with them now and then, in our own pocket of the spirit realm.”

“Wh—wait, when do you visit there?” Demitri asked.

“When I meditate,” Rhys said.

“Oh.”

More walking—the glow was getting abnormally bright, but there was still no sign of the actual Guardian. Demitri felt Mispy’s back tense and her pace stiffen; she must have been trying to formulate her question in the silence. Then, she spoke. “Did you kill… the Grass Guardian?”

Rhys’ steps lost their rhythm, but he regained it quickly. “I have many regrets regarding my past as a Hunter. But I was not the one who killed the Grass Guardian. In fact, I was largely unsuccessful in those efforts. Wholly, actually.”

“Y-you mean, even if you’re super strong…?” Demitri asked.

“It wasn’t necessarily strength that stopped me,” Rhys said, “but perhaps… willpower. Mystic power is largely tied to the will. If, so to speak, your ‘heart is not in it’ when you fight, that Mystic power will not help you. In fact, it could hinder you. Meanwhile, a Guardian is fighting to survive. Their willpower could be… significant. In the end,” he said, “My will to gain power was lesser than their will to live.”

“Didn’t stop yeh from beating Owen ter a pulp of Cheri dust,” Gahi clicked.

“D’you think the others might have trouble with that?” Demitri said. “If a Guardian is scared they’re being attacked…”

Rhys shook his head. “We can only hope things work out.”

Demitri frowned, rubbing at one of his axes awkwardly. “Too bad we didn’t bring Anam. He’d just convince them by being friendly.”

“Yes, well,” Rhys said. “I’m sure I can be friendly.”

None of his students looked convinced.

The light was growing stronger. Rhys held his arm out to stop the other three. Mispy stopped first; Gahi bumped into her rear, which made Demitri topple onto her neck again. They squabbled amongst one another, but Rhys shushed them firmly and they listened.

“The Guardian is just ahead.”

They walked uneasily forward. Rhys didn’t feel a particularly powerful aura ahead, but it was distinctly Mystic. And a lot brighter than usual. A bit abnormal, but considering the lack of light, perhaps it had to do with keeping things bright.

Demitri and Gahi were less informed. The Axew leaned to the side to see past Mispy’s leaf. “Wow! Cool statue!”

In the center of the end of the cave—in a cavern large enough to fly in for a short distance—there was the statue of a Shiftry, accurate to the last detail.

“Whoever made this must be pretty good at the whole chisel thing,” Gahi said.

The cavern rumbled softly.

Rhys, giving them all an incredulous look, said, “That is the Guardian.”

“Cease…”

The four stiffened. “Wh-uh—what was that?”

“Cease… your movements…”

The voice came from nowhere. It sounded masculine and deep, but nothing that they’d expect from a statue.

“What do you mean, cease our movements?” Rhys said.

“All movement must cease… spirits must know stillness…”

The four looked at one another. Their mission was to befriend the Guardian… Perhaps they could play his game for now. “Very well,” Rhys said. “May we get into a comfortable position before, er… tuning ourselves to the stone?”

The cavern rumbled angrily. “I will allow it.”

“Into your meditative positions, everyone,” Rhys said. “We must comply, as we are mere guests. We can converse later.”

“Meditate?” all three of them whined.

“CEASE.”

The three scrambled to separate spots. Mispy sat down with her rear down, but her front legs propping the rest of her up, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t very different from how she normally sat, but she kept her spine straighter than usual. Demitri sat down and tried to cross his legs, though they were too stubby for that, and it instead became a sort of position where the bottoms of his feet touched. It always tickled, but at least he could tune it out once he got in the zone. Gahi couldn’t do much of anything in terms of contorting his body. The Trapinch rested his head on the ground, splayed his stubs for legs outward, and remained still. Rhys sat, legs crossed, and closed his eyes.

Rhys watched the chaotic auras of the trio. They were warped things, those auras; the light that they radiated had strange, lopsided sparks now and then that spurt from the edges of their flares. When they meditated, this light stabilized—at least mostly—into the gentle flames that they should appear as. Demitri’s and Mispy’s, in particular, looked quite stable.

As the late morning bled into noon, Rhys realized that this would be their eternity if they did not try to speak with the Guardian. How could they convince him peacefully to come along? His aura was too weak to fight; if they hit him too hard, he could…

And then, suddenly, the silence broke.

Hey, everyone! We have the first Guardian! He’s okay! He’ll come with us, and he’s super cool! …Guys? Hello?

Anam’s voice echoed from Rhys’ bag. The Lucario didn’t even react.

Gahi mumbled aloud out of boredom. “What kind of luck is this?” Gahi muttered. “All this anticipating ter get here and the main Guardian’s as boring as Rhys.”

“I dunno about that,” Demitri said. “He’s probably even more boring.”

“ALL MOVEMENT SHALL STOP,” the Shiftry boomed. He didn’t move, yet he was clearly the one speaking—through the vibrations of the cave.

Rhys didn’t react. He kept meditating.

Gahi flinched and stayed put. Demitri softly said, “This test is to just not move? For how long…”

Mispy shifted where she sat, sighing.

The ground rumbled again and the Shiftry roared. “ALL MOVEMENT… SHALL STOP!”

The cave walls heaved, threatening to collapse around them. Mispy stiffened and shut her eyes, trying to meditate. Demitri and Gahi did the same. Rhys remained motionless.

A seemingly endless amount of time passed. Rhys watched, worriedly, as the auras of the three members of Team Alloy faded to the gentle undulations that indicated drowsiness. They weren’t meditating at all, now—they were about to fall asleep.

And then, without any sort of stimulation and the overwhelming feeling of boredom, Mispy’s head and leaf drooped slightly—and then, she fell over to her side, asleep.

The Shiftry roared through the mountain, screaming enough to startle Mispy awake. “YOU HAVE RUINED THE ATMOSPHERE OF STONE!” The ground heaved, stones already erupting from below, jostling everybody into a battle position.

Rhys cursed and stood up. Their chances of ending this without a fight evaporated completely.

“I wanted to do this peacefully!” He aimed his Aura Sphere at the Shiftry, but just then, he saw his paw glow with a strong, yellow light. Rhys flinched and stopped his attack, as if he’d seen his very soul nearly slip from his body. Was this Guardian so weak that a single blast would kill him? How was he supposed to subdue someone that his weakest techniques would annihilate?

Gahi hissed. “Rhys?! What’re you doing?!”

The Guardian wasn’t moving. In fact, the Shiftry in general hadn’t moved since they arrived, making it an easy target. It also made its attacks quite slow. There were a few seconds of dead air that they could think about how to approach and, for Rhys’ case, safely subdue this Guardian.

“I—I can’t fight him right now,” Rhys said. “My attacks could kill. I—I can’t do that.”

“Wh—nggh, fine!” Gahi said, rushing for the Shiftry. The ground heaved; rocks fell on top of Gahi, burying him.

“No, don’t fight! He’s too weak!” Rhys urged.

“G-Gahi!” Demitri and Mispy yelled. They rushed after him, helping him free of the Rock Slide, but Gahi was already growling from within.

“Guardian! Stop this!” Rhys said, but his words fell on deaf, rocky ears.

The Shiftry roared; more rocks fell from the ceiling. Rhys deftly avoided the attack with precise jumps, readying an Aura Sphere out of reflex. His paw lit up again—his Divine Promise in danger of breaking—and he held off, growling. He had to keep his students safe—but he couldn’t attack the Guardian too much. But he wasn’t going to listen to reason. His mind, like many Guardians who had become isolated for too long, had warped into something else thanks to their isolation.

Surely the spirits that resided within his mind had conformed in one way or another to the Guardian’s whims, and now he was focused on only one thing—stillness. Any violation of that angered him. Perhaps a friendlier voice like Amia or Anam—or even Star, in person—could help this broken mind. But they had to convince him otherwise—and fighting with their own techniques was too much.

Gahi would be fine; he was stronger than that to let a few rocks subdue him. What worried Rhys was what came after: A great, white light shined from the cracks—Demitri and Mispy stumbled back, covering their eyes.

“No!” Rhys hissed, watching Gahi’s aura flare and shift, crackling, black lightning coursing through the nearest rocks to the former Trapinch. One of the sparks zapped Mispy, and she was enveloped in that same evolutionary light—followed shortly by Demitri right next to her. Rhys watched anxiously, but then looked at the Shiftry.

The white light of evolution sparked black. Rhys glanced worriedly at them, but then it faded away. Emerging from this light was no longer a Trapinch, Chikorita, and Axew. The Vibrava, Bayleef, and Fraxure briefly paused to marvel at their new forms.

“That corrupted light…” Shiftry rumbled the caves again, too soft for the three to hear, though Rhys heard it. “What was that?” Whatever it was, Rhys noted that Shiftry was stunned enough to stop his attacks.

Gahi beat his new wings as if he’d had them his whole life. Demitri stared—and gasped in fear, slightly—at his new distance from the ground. Mispy struggled with her longer legs and neck, feeling awkward and lanky. But they adjusted quickly, and they let their instincts take over in the midst of battle. They jumped back into the fray.

“STOP!” Rhys suddenly roared, holding out his arms. Mispy, whose leafy buds glowed with gathering energy, dimmed. Gahi flipped a few times in the air to cut back on his speed. Demitri toppled over himself, landing flat on his face.

Shiftry rumbled again, but the rock slide stopped. Rhys feared that the ceiling would collapse on them if they upset the statue further, but they couldn’t take him on. “He’s too weak,” he said. “We don’t want to hurt him. We’re here to bring him with us, remember?”

The trio looked at one another incredulously, then at the statue.

“How dare you call me weak,” said the Shiftry. “You fear fighting me because I would smite you with my undeniable power.”

“Undeniable?” Gahi challenged. “I bet I c’n take yeh on!”

“You DARE—”

“N-now, let’s hold for a moment,” Rhys said, raising his paw. “We don’t know want to fight. Who is stronger than the other is irrelevant.” Even though Rhys was certain that this Guardian could probably fall to any of their unrestrained strikes, and his aura was barely present, it wouldn’t be worth it to bring such a thing up.

“Um, Mister Guardian, er,” Demitri waved at him, but that made the statue growl. He quickly stopped and straightened his spine. “We just want to bring you to our home. We are gathering the Guardians, you see, and it will be safer for you there.”

“Is there movement?”

“Er…”

“I mean, even Rock Types move, don’t you think?” Demitri reasoned, his voice stuttering now and then. “Geodude, Aerodactyl, they’re Rock Types and they move around all the same! And you’re a Shiftry! You can move, too, right?”

“No. I am Rock. I do not move.”

“…Literal statue,” Mispy said.

“I am… stillness.” Shiftry hesitated. “I… I won’t move. I refuse to move!”

“But it’s safe to move,” Demitri said. “How about we carry you instead? It’s better than the Hunters finding you, right? And then you’ll just, uh, stay still in our cave next. Stuff moves all the time in the world. In fact, the whole world spins! So you’re always moving!”

“AaaAAAAA!” The whole ground rumbled at that, toppling Demitri and Mispy off of their feet. Gahi beat his wings and Rhys stood his ground. “N-no! Don’t say that! How DARE you… say such horrible things. The spirit must be still. It must stop movement. Stop thinking. Tranquil.”

“You might be confusing meditation with a total lack of movement,” Rhys said, easing forward with gentle gestures. “You recognize that you are unsafe right? Are you familiar with the Hunters? What about Star?”

“Star approached me. I told her where I was. But her movement irritated me. I do not care for her philosophy of directly interfering with mortals.”

“Well, I suppose I don’t, either, but I imagine you also don’t care about Hunters disturbing your… movement further?”

“…Then I must choose between being killed, and living in a world of movement?”

“What, that’s a choice?” Gahi growled irritably. “C’mon, Rhys, let’s just carry thus nutcase back.”

“W-wait, not so violent,” Demitri urged.

“Funny comin’ from you!” Gahi said. “Yer the one with the hardest punches!”

“I—I know, but… but be gentle…”

Mispy frowned, nudging Demitri. “He’s right,” she agreed, then glared at Gahi.

“Feh…” The Vibrava looked back at Shiftry. “So you coming er what?”

“I… I don’t… I can’t…” The cavern shook. “I haven’t moved in so long. I can’t remember how I came here. And to suddenly leave this place—what if it’s all unfamiliar? What if—”

All the rumbling finally shook something loose. A stone fell from the ceiling and landed nearby; the statue made something akin to a scream, but then went completely silent. Demitri flinched. “Wh—what happened?” he said.

Rhys quickly stepped to Shiftry, barely able to sense his aura, but…

“He’s fine,” Rhys stated, releasing the breath he had been holding. “He must have panicked and passed out from shock. Let’s bring him back before he wakes up. Hopefully he will be… at least slightly more tolerant of it all with exposure; he seemed to just be worrying over the thought of it, even though we have been moving around him the whole time.”

Demitri nodded, sighing with relief. “Good…” Then, once Mispy and Gahi relaxed their stances, Demitri’s arms trembled from his excitement. “We evolved! We finally did it!”

The energy from Demitri spread to the other two of Team Alloy. Mispy beamed, awkwardly stumbling forward to headbutt Demitri in the chest. Gahi buzzed his wings and rammed into Demitri next. “Heheh, and I evolved first.”

“Barely,” Mispy countered.

“First is first,” Gahi said, flying above them.

“And how are you three feeling?” Rhys asked.

“Never better!” Gahi said. Demitri and Mispy nodded.

Rhys could sense the excitement from them, even though it was a bit subdued due to a combination of mental exhaustion from the meditating and physical exhaustion from the battle, easy as it may have been in the end. Rhys suspected, however, that their less than explosive celebration was due to the fact that Owen had already beaten them to it. There was nothing to celebrate in their competitive hearts—only a fire to beat Owen to evolving when it really counted.

Demitri shook his head and leaned down to get a hold of the statue. “Urgh—he’s solid rock!”

“Uh, duh,” Gahi said, descending.

Mispy smacked Gahi behind his head with a vine—as a Bayleef, they were much thicker, and the Vibrava slammed into the ground with a groan. Mispy flinched. “Um, sorry.”

Gahi just hissed and crawled away.

Demitri managed to balance the fallen Shiftry over his shoulder, using his massive tusk to keep the statue level. With his free hand, he pulled out their Badge—both the silver and gold ones. “Oh! That’s right!” He fumbled with the silver one, pressing a claw on the center button. “Hey, guys! We did fine! Our Guardian is just fine!”

Rhys nodded. “Let’s meet the others at the village.”

 

[Ambyssin]

And so the Guardian hunt beings and, predictably, hilarity ensues. That's all folks!

*musical fanfare*

... okay, fine, fine, I'll be serious. Serious about the lack of serious vibes I got from the chapter as a whole. It might just be a me thing, but it was really hard for me to take either team's situation seriously with the interactions they were having. I'm guessing that's what you were going for. But even when Anam's team is dodging the Indiana Jones-esque traps in the temple, I never got this sense of danger and urgency. Possibly because you were focusing on Anam who is just not someone who's meant to be taken seriously right about now. But that was also the case with the other team, even when they actually had to fight Shiftry. Again, the set-up to the battle was very slapsticky... which I was fine with. But I don't quite think you pivoted to high-stakes with Rhys' divine promise as well as you were hoping. Part of that may just be the fight's choreography. There wasn't too much dialogue, per se, but Rhys takes a lot of lines to think out all his actions when, presumably, he needs to be making split-second decisions. It also might have something to do with the fact that, compared to Owen, Team Alloy's evolutions were just kind of... there. No serious fanfare and they start joking about it after. ^^;

As far as the Guardians go, Shiftry is big angry rock guy who use Hulk-Speak, which is fine. ADAM was the star, so to speak. I'm no programmer, so I full on thought of the 1337 H4mm3r Br0s. from Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time when he showed up. Pairing him with Anam was the perfect comedic choice... though maybe Owen's nice guy schtick could've worked, too. I can't say much more than that. I've done something pretty similar with Magearna, after all, so this all felt very familiar. That's about all I've really got for this chapter. Blame the chemo-brain, cause it's definitely lingering.

The Abandoned Temple—the original name lost to the ages—

Let's be real, the original name was probably just as lame.

“Hrm,” James hummed. “It is of a time long passed, Zena. A relic.”

Makes you wonder if this world used to be something completely different than it currently is.

The ground shifted instantly; the floors collapsed in patches and rose in others. Spikes skewered tiles from below, and strange, metal stalactites fell from above.

Man, this Legends of the Hidden Temple reboot sure is weird.

“Pfwoooh—!” It pinned Anam against the wall; the huge, stone thorn went right through his gooey chest, narrowly missing his heart—if he had one.

Oh, fuck, I didn't take Anam to be an Organization member. DAMN IT, XEHANORT!

Anam used his hands to piece his lower half back together. So far, he had most of his belly and tail reconstructed, but he couldn’t find any spare material for his legs. He puffed his cheeks and pushed—new little feet popped out from the base of his thighs, followed by the rest of his missing appendages. He sprung to his feet, and Zena marveled at the Guardian’s regenerative abilities. If any of that happened to her, she’d be nothing but a dead puddle.

Okay, you can't get made at me for calling Owen Discount Goku when you've got Discount Majinn Buu sitting right in front of me. e_e

The Porygon-Z buzzed with anxiety. “You do not have permission to create a guest account!” he said. His voice was like a buzz in the air, as if he was speaking through the crackle of a Thundershock at all times. “403 - Forbidden! Access to the back rooms is not allowed! Those traps should have deleted you!”

James: "Damn it, which one of you assholes booted up Windows in Safe Mode?"
Anam: "Not me. Though I maaaay have taken out the USB Drive without clicking 'Safely Remove Hardware' first. <3"

“I have lived within this temple for approximately 1.5e10 seconds, base ten,” stated ADAM.

“My hardware is incapable of degrading due to Mysticism,” ADAM replied. “…But perhaps my software requires repairing, and my file system, defragmenting. The data may be corrupted. However, I cannot reinstall my own operating system. Those files may have also been corrupted.”

James: "We've got no choice, sir... we're going to have to factory reset him back to Vista."
Zena: "NO! NOT VISTA! YOU ANIMALS!"

“Jus’ feels like…” Gahi said. “I’unno. Fighting with’m feels… right, y’know? Th’ four o’ us as a team. Yeah….”

Everybody wants a piece of Owen... *insert Lenny face here*

“Long ago, I fought for Star. But some fought harder, I suppose. And Star became disillusioned with her own cause, and asked for us to stop. We thought she was simply losing heart, and we pressed on. But I later realized that some Hunters… simply wanted more power. It had nothing to do with Star.”

Unless Star is secretly STILL EVIIIIIIIL and just a giant bitch in sheep's clothing. Hey, anything's possible.

“Yes, well,” Rhys said. “I’m sure I can be friendly.”

I imagine Rhys is one of those characters who looks demonic when he attempts to smile. y'know, like zero-two...

“All movement must cease… to be one with the stone…”

Okay, try reading this sentence out of context and then tell me how I'm not supposed to interpret this as a drug reference.

The Vibrava, Bayleef, and Fraxure took only a few seconds to marvel at their new forms.

You get an evolution... and you get an evolution... and you get an evolution! EVERYONE GETS AN EVOLUTION!

 

[namohysip]

It might just be a me thing, but it was really hard for me to take either team's situation seriously with the interactions they were having. I'm guessing that's what you were going for.

Actually, you're right about this, and I feel like I accidentally made it a little too serious. Star intentionally sent these guys to the easiest Guardians in order to bolster their raw numbers--hence why it was so easy to recruit two of them (Uh, "recruit" in the Rock's case) after just a quick clash. ADAM was certainly powerful due to how much he rigged the temple, but that's all he had, and Zena was able to hide underground for most of the fight.

The Rock Guardian is the weakest of the bunch--the biggest danger was literally Rhys accidentally one-hit-killing him. I actually intended for this chapter and the next to be a bit of an emotional breather after the... tumultuous few chapters prior. I might add in a bit more--but not too much--levity to make it clear that this is the case.

But I don't quite think you pivoted to high-stakes with Rhys' divine promise as well as you were hoping. Part of that may just be the fight's choreography. There wasn't too much dialogue, per se, but Rhys takes a lot of lines to think out all his actions when, presumably, he needs to be making split-second decisions

See above, but regarding that split-second stuff. The Rock Guardian's attacks are actually pretty easy to predict, and there's more leeway than usual with his movements. I think I'll redo some of that choreography on my edit wave before the next chapter comes out, just to better outline it. The fight is a little meh.

Team Alloy's evolutions were just kind of... there. No serious fanfare and they start joking about it after. ^^;

Yeah, evolving mid-fight can kinda do that, but I feel like they definitely could celebrate a little more. Might add in an extended exchange after they announce that they got their Guardian, just so they can celebrate a little and it can sink in more.

Let's be real, the original name was probably just as lame.

You're probably right.

Okay, you can't get made at me for calling Owen Discount Goku when you've got Discount Majinn Buu sitting right in front of me. e_e

Let's just be happy his feeler-horns don't shoot candy-making light beams.

Okay, try reading this sentence out of context and then tell me how I'm not supposed to interpret this as a drug reference.

Frankly I'm just glad you didn't make the easy "Guardian of Rock 'n' Roll" joke.