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. Turning the scale changed its color somewhat, like staring into a prism. 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.

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."