Chapter 81 – Healing

Spice didn't take her eyes off of Leo for most of their walk, particularly focused on the bandages around his abdomen. She never realized how thin he was beneath all that fur. The Delphox moved delicately, trying not to aggravate his wounds, and he murmured little curses occasionally as he felt the bandages press against his wound.

"Maybe they put it on too tight," Spice said. "They didn't know their own strength. I can readjust it if you—"

"I'll be fine. It needs to be tight. It'll remind me if I'm moving too fast." Leo took step after careful step down a trail that no Pokémon had traveled in decades—and it showed.

Beyond the nonfunctional Waypoint, the early morning sun revealed an expansive, lumpy field of tall grass. The breeze was nice against her scales, and she hoped the morning sunlight would give Leo a bit of energy, too.

"We should have stayed for one more night," Spice said.

"The others might need us at Kilo Village. A day wasted is a day without our help."

"You won't be much help if you're dead."

Leo growled, but kept his eyes trained forward. "Have you slept yet?"

"Will you stop going on about that?!" Spice hissed, flicking her tail at him—but immediately stopped herself. She kept calm. The last thing she wanted was for her to be the one responsible for his first bandage replacement. She glanced at her bag; it had enough supplies for three replacements in case the wounds bled through.

That would be more than enough for when they got to the next village, right? They just had to find and follow the river along the way to Kilo.

"Spice."

"Eh? What?"

"You didn't actually answer my question."

"What was the question?"

"Did you sleep?"

"I'm not tired." Spice picked a stray scale and tossed it aside.

"How many days has it been, now? Four? What did you do while I was asleep?"

"Patrolled the village and watched Destiny Tower." Spice glanced back, and Leo followed her gaze, to the tower where the Spire of Trials had once been. "You can't see him from here, but Arceus is definitely at the top. Three times overnight, he fired off what I'm pretty sure was his Judgement attack on something up north."

She pointed in the vague direction of the northwest. "Guess whatever's there is a pretty big threat. Maybe when we get closer, we'll see what it is."

"Arceus," Leo breathed out. "And I mean that literally. He's actually real. Does that mean the Books were real all along, too?"

"Who knows?" Spice said, shrugging. "If you ask me, they're probably just stories because of how powerful they are. But you know what's also possible? Arceus coming down has everything to do with Orans and everything not working." She puffed a small cloud of poison, then dispelled it with a smaller plume of fire. "Let's take it easy for now. One step at a time, right? We'll get to the next village and see if we can restock on anything."

"And maybe we can get you some sleep. You're looking… agitated, Spice."

Spice's left eye twitched. "I've tried to sleep. Drop it. Okay? I'm sick and tired of hearing it, day in day out, get some sleep, get some sleep, I would if I could!" She raised her arms in the air, then crossed them over her chest. "Hope the rest of the team is doing alright."

"They should be back at Kilo Village," Leo said. "And I think—"

"Wait."

Leo stopped. Spice rose a bit higher, straining her spine to straighten her stance completely. She squinted and sniffed the air, then closed her eyes. "Hear that?"

"What?"

"Smells like wet dirt, and I think I hear a small waterfall."

The tall grass made it hard to see much; it went up to Spice's chest on her normal stance and tickled her scales. They had to be careful with their fire here unless they wanted to set off a Rain Dance from a feral.

Her scar was starting to itch again. "Hey, can we hang on for a second?" she mumbled to Leo.

"What? Oh. Sure." Leo spotted a small lump of grass nearby and inspected it, making sure it wasn't some sleeping Pokémon, and then sat down. "Is it bugging you again?"

"It's all this grass," Spice muttered. "My scales are more sensitive where the lightning struck. Just give me a second." She dug through her bag, little glass vials clinking against one another. She pulled out one with an odd, whitish substance, marked with a yellow dot on the top. She poked her claw on the cork and tugged it out. A bit of the powder puffed out with it, drifting to the ground.

She poured some of it in her palm and stuck the vial in the grass to keep it upright. From the back of her throat toxic liquid bubbled up; she spat a small drop on the powder, where it sizzled into a yellowish paste.

The numbing relief that followed upon slathering it over her chest was enough for her to breathe an audible sigh of relief. "Finally," she mumbled. She let the liquefied powder air out for a while, flaking off with the wind, and brushed aside the rest.

"Alright. Sorry for the wait." She recovered the vial, corked it shut, and slipped it back into her bag. "Let's find that river."

After some trial and error, they found a direction where the bubbling got louder, and it was no wonder why they couldn't see it at first. The tall grass had obscured it and leaned over the river, a mere few feet across. It was shallow, too. But a sudden dip in land made the water just loud enough to spot. "And now, we just follow it," Spice said.

"Right." Leo said, though Spice noticed a bit of breathlessness in his voice.

"Or," she said, "we can take a second to relax."

"No, I'm—"

"If you trip, that wound is gonna reopen. Besides, it's starting to bleed through. I think it's about time we changed them." Spice motioned for Leo to turn around, and he reluctantly complied, sitting down by the riverside.

Leo winced when Spice got to the last few layers of the bandage, sticky and red. His fur got caught in some of it, and she had to pull a bit delicately so it wasn't too uncomfortable. She looked through her supplies for a certain powder.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm gonna do something that'll help it heal faster, but it's gonna hurt. You fine with that?"

Leo's lip quivered.

"Oh, brush off your eggshell. It won't be that bad." She pulled out another vial, this one with a blue cap.

"Wait, wait," Leo said. "Your hand—isn't it still a little poisoned from your—"

"Oh, fine." Spice rolled her eyes and breathed a plume of fire onto her own fingers, then shoved it in the water. It sizzled, a small cloud of steam rising to Leo's face thanks to the wind. Spice winced at the cold. "Happy?"

"Yes."

"You know, being too sanitary can make you weak to filth down the line," Spice said.

"Says the Poison Type," Leo mumbled.

Without warning, Spice smeared the powder onto Leo's wound, making him yelp and nearly jerk away.

"Oh, quit it."

Leo stifled his whimpers, though his eyes were tightly shut, creases forming over his muzzle. Spice followed up by wrapping another bandage over his waist, making sure it was a little less tight this time, but still tight enough that it wouldn't slip or jostle around.

"There, that better? This shouldn't strain the wound all that much."

"A little… Did you have to be that rough?"

"You were bugging me." Spice huffed, flicking her tail. "Alright. That's done with. Let's just relax and let you gain your breath."

"Are you sure?" Leo said. "I'm good to go. I—"

"You're a liar is what you are. Just sit still, alright?"

Leo frowned, but he didn't protest further.

This far away from any town or Dungeon was a rare thing indeed. Spice remembered the old days when she was a child, before the southern annexation; no Waypoints to go so conveniently from place to place. Taking a trip to the nearby town meant navigating hills and paths often trotted. If there was an outlaw or some other unruly Pokémon in the way, she remembered her parents taking an alternate route, where the grass was similarly tall, just to avoid them.

Those were all hazy memories at this point. Vague visions of getting lost in a Dungeon crossed her mind; she remembered an intense, dark feeling, and her mother staring at her in fear. Everything was dark. And then what? Those Dungeons were always cursed; if Spice could credit anything to their insufferable leader, it'd be fixing those.

"This is a peaceful place, isn't it?:" Leo asked, breaking Spice out of her memories. "I wonder if civilians ever travel here."

Spice paused to remember what Leo had just said. "Doubt it. All this tall grass makes me surprised we haven't run into any wild Pokémon, actually."

Another gentle breeze ran across the field, kicking up loose blades of grass. A few got caught in the fur that stuck out of Leo's ears. Spice brushed some of them off for him, flinching when a few extra blades went right over her snout.

"Something wrong?" Leo taunted with a wry smile. "Look at that, a big, strong Salazzle scared of grass."

"Shove it." Spice feigned to jab him in the side, earning a preemptive yelp from Leo. She smirked; he pouted.

A few Magikarp fell from the higher levels of the river, following the flow. They kicked up dirt on the riverbed, revealing a Wooper that had been lounging in the mud the whole time. Despite the world showing signs of the beginning of the end, the ferals still behaved as they always had. They didn't care. As far as they were concerned, it was just a thunderstorm without rain.

"I'm glad it's still quiet," Leo said.

"What?" Spice said, losing her thoughts.

"All of this. I was worried that when I woke up, the world would be on fire, or a wasteland, or… well, simply not the same."

"It isn't." Spice looked in her bag. "Waypoints are gone, berries stopped working…"

"That isn't very different for you, is it?" Leo asked. "You grew up in the south before annexation."

"Not for long," Spice said. "I was only ten when that all happened."

"Old enough to remember." Leo gave her a little smile. "I don't really know what that sort of life is like. I was a little Fennekin that lived right next to Kilo Village, in one of the outskirt colonies."

"Oh, really? Which one? Maybe on our way, we can pay a visit."

"Oh, it is on this side, if we keep heading to the mountain this way…" Leo hummed. "It's called Yotta Outskirts. It's sort of a spread-out settlement, one of the biggest in terms of, you know, landmass. Mostly farmland for crops. I wonder if they're doing alright after, you know… How are they going to deliver all that food?"

"Well, they can always do it the old southern way," Spice said. "Get a big, winged Pokémon and fly it around to everyone who needs it. Simple, basic."

"And tiring. Those poor wing muscles." Leo rolled his shoulder. "I can't imagine."

Spice shrugged, but sensed that Leo was feeling livelier than before. "Think we're about ready to go?"

The Delphox adjusted his footing and tried to stand on his own, pausing when he felt a strain in his side. Spice held him and helped him up.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Let's get going."

He could still smell it, even after getting close to where Amia had been. It smelled a lot like soup back home, some kind of thick, hearty stew, maybe. But that came with risks, and he didn't want to have his berries stolen. Maybe when he had more energy, or if he was just more prepared in this strange place—or if he was actually evolved, that would've been nice—

Owen grunted, trying to keep his composure. There was no use fretting over that sort of thing. After all, he'd been through it countless times before. Now he just remembered them all.

"Mom?" Owen called, hoping she was still there. He didn't smell blood, and he didn't smell ash or anything burning. Had she been left alone? No rumbles had greeted him during the whole walk, thankfully, but that could change at a moment's notice. The sooner he got in, the better.

Amia was where she had been before, though she seemed a lot paler. Her eyes drifted toward Owen, and she motioned weakly at the ground where Owen had set the traps. Once he got closer, he saw the subtle glow of where they had been planted.

"Nobody came. Good." Owen sighed and walked over the traps—they didn't activate to him—and settled down next to Amia. "Hey, do you want to have something to drink first, or the berries? Wait—dumb question. How about I give you the berr—"

"Water…"

A chill ran down Owen's spine. Her voice was so weak. It was like an icy pit had replaced where his stomach had been. "Water. Right. Water." He pulled one of the tree taffy slices. "It's not the best, but it really helped me, and the berries will probably have some in it, too. See, that one's a Pecha. It's probably got a lot of juice in it."

Amia nodded weakly, and Owen handed the tree taffy over. She tried to use the hand clutching at her wound at first, but it was caked in blood. She shifted her weight and nearly fell over; Owen dropped the berry amalgamation and propped her up. "It's okay, here," he said, easing it into her mouth for her. She wasn't able to chew it well, but she got the juice out. When he saw her wince, he smiled nervously. "Sorry, I know it doesn't taste good, but it's water. I'll give you the berries next, okay? How about the Pecha first?"

Owen tugged a bit harder at the amalgamation, finally breaking loose the Pecha. At the very least, it looked mostly the same compared to a normal one, even if it was attached to a bunch of other berries. Maybe that's just how the berries grew in this part of the world.

He peeled off a segment of the Pecha, which broke apart in his claws, and fed it to Amia. Soft fruit. She was able to chew it easily. And then another, and another, and soon the whole Pecha was down, though Amia didn't look any better. But it was hydrating. It would take time. "Another?"

Amia seemed unsure, but then looked at the Oran.

"Right. Let's get you healed. It's a little tougher, so how about I break it open?"

"Okay."

Her voice didn't seem as dry this time, but it was still weak. She gave him a little smile, waiting for the Oran to be cut up. Owen remembered how to cut them into smaller pieces; trace the outside, use a claw to cut along the tougher outer portions, and then break along the segments. Easy enough. He could use the button at the top as a guide. Snap. Snap. Soon he had four pieces. A few more, and it was in eighths, the soft insides spilling juice out. It, too, was a bit… red. Unorthodox. But it was the same as everything else here.

"Okay, open up."

Owen watched Amia's wound after each Oran slice, but nothing seemed to be happening. He wasn't the only one with a bit of concern in his eyes. He looked at Amia again. Zena had mentioned that Orans used to not be blessed—that it would be harder to heal. Still, they healed a little. Maybe this place just wasn't blessed?

It certainly seemed that way.

"I'll get the next one ready," Owen said.

He wasn't sure where she put it all, but every piece of tree taffy, and every berry from the whole bunch, had gone to Amia, and Owen wouldn't have had it any other way. The taffy would last at least through the… He decided to call it night.

Amia winced, glancing at her wound again. Her eyes seemed grave, and Owen could understand why. After being a Mystic for so long, having to deal with an injury like that, where it simply didn't heal after enough time—he couldn't imagine how scary it must have been.

"I'll get more," Owen said. "I know what to look for now, so—"

"Stay."

Owen had already been halfway out the cave, but he spun on his heel. "St-stay?"

"I'm feeling better… You're tired."

"Yeah, but you still need more—"

"No."

Owen's flame twisted and crackled. He was supposed to be helping her, darn it. Not taking orders. But, his eyes were heavy. She probably saw that on him while he was cutting up the berries for her.

"Please, rest, dear. You've done so much…"

Every word brought a heavier fatigue over his shoulders. Rest sounded nice. "But you're sure you'll be okay?"

"Mm." Amia motioned at the part of her dress that was draped by her side, so invitingly asking for Owen to curl up over. Owen's legs carried him there without his input, and soon, he was curled up next to her in a cozy heap.

Amia's hand drifted over his back, stroking along his scales, over his head, his shoulders—she found the spot, after all this time. He arched his head back, stretched his legs, and let out a long, drawn out chirp, growl, and then curled back up. How did she always know where to scratch? Did he still have that as a Charizard? He hoped so. Maybe it migrated to between his wings, or…

Owen's eyelids fluttered again, then finally rolled to the back of his head. He was so tired. And even though he wasn't sleeping in his own bed this time, it was with Amia. Hopefully Alex was okay somewhere… They'd have to find him next. And then, maybe he could find everyone else, and find a way out of…

Careful fingers wrapped around Charmander's neck, squeezing at the extra skin and scales.

"You're a healthy one. Looks like your mother took great care of you, huh?" The human behind Charmander moved to his arm next, tapping it. He lifted it on reflex, and they inspected them next.

"Not just her," a Marowak growled nearby.

The one behind Charmander laughed. "Yes, you, too," she said.

Charmander's father growled again to emphasize his point.

The human rubbed Charmander under the chin. "Okay, little guy. Turn around; let's listen to your heart."

Charmander spun and chirped at the assistant. She had fair skin, dark hair, and a thick, flameproof lab coat on, as well as protective goggles. He knew that those were used because of his fire. With a hint of defiance, he puffed an ember in her face; it brushed against her cheek.

"Oh, you" she said, rubbing at where he'd hit.

Another chirp. Then, the human said, "Okay, shh. Don't chirp for a bit, okay?"

She brought out a funny device that was attached to her ears, with a little circle at the other end, which she placed on his chest. He didn't really know what she was saying, but he knew to be quiet when this happened.

After a little while, she pulled it away and smiled. "Good job, Charmander."

He chirped again and looked at Charizard. Her smile was part proud, part elated, and the human said to her, "You've got another wonderful child here, Miho. He's still a little too young to go on an adventure with a trainer, but do you think he'll be ready?"

"My son is always ready."

Charmander's flame dimmed. He didn't understand how Charizard knew what they were saying, but were they talking about the trainers? He looked down. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that… Or if he wanted to. Why couldn't he be like Redscale? He never went on an adventure. He just stayed home, and sure, he was getting older, but…

"Sounds like Amber's pretty confident," the human said.

Charmander chirped uncertainly. "Am I gonna go away soon?" he asked.

"Soon, little ember," Charizard replied.

"But I don't want to."

"Smallflame…" Charizard frowned, looking at the humans.

The other human, who had been writing things down on a large rectangle that he always carried, said, "Is something going on?"

"It sounds like Charmander isn't so sure yet," the human guessed. "Charizard, is that it?"

"No, he's ready," Charizard said.

"I'm not!" Smallflame protested.

"You're ready."

Marowak looked away wordlessly.

The two humans listened, but it was clear that they could only understand the emotions behind their words, and not the words themselves. But that was simple enough, wasn't it? Maybe Charmander just had to be a bit more assertive. He looked at the humans and growled. "I'm not going! Ever!"

"I—I think we upset him a little," the rectangle-wielding human said.

"Hmm, maybe he's just agitated from all the testing. We went on for a while. Let's just let them rest for now. Sorry, Amber. But he's wonderful! Perfect health!"

Charizard was more focused on Charmander, but she gave a little, irritable growl to the human. "Thank you."

"G-guh, that was a scary-sounding growl," the nervous human said.

The one with goggles grinned. "No, I think she was just saying thank you. She's just occupied with the little guy. What, you've never given an irritated thanks?"

"I—right. Sorry. I'm still new to all this…"

"Well, everyone learns. You'll eventually get a feel for what Pokémon are trying to tell you." They both walked away, leaving Charmander behind with the others. He didn't want to look at his mother.

He didn't need a stupid human to get stronger, and that was final.

Waking up hungry was a new feeling for Owen, and for a while, he wished he could just find a way to go back to sleep. So cozy. The wave of nothingness was soothing in hindsight. Though, the strange dreams were starting to freak him out. Was that what a human looked like? Where were those memories—those weren't memories, were they? What was…

But as soon as the dream had come, it faded. Owen spent a while trying to piece together some of them again, but they were slippery in his mind's fingers. Maybe if he meditated later, when he wasn't starving, he could find more of them. He'd thought he had all his memories, but maybe there were more that he had completely lost until now.

Owen exhaled through his nose and glanced down at his tail, and then at Amia's dress with a small smile. He tried to roll, but then felt Amia's hand still on his back, so he stopped. Now it was just awkward. How was he supposed to squeeze out while she was asleep? "M—" He almost called to her, but then figured she wouldn't appreciate being woken up like that.

The pain in his stomach reminded him that he still had to get up to find food. Perhaps he had given too much to Amia after all—he should have taken a berry or two. That taffy didn't give much for him after all…

Owen carefully crawled from under Amia's hand, making sure that his tail, even if it was just a dull warmth, didn't brush against her dress or her hand. Finally, he stood up, stretched his back—he heard a few satisfying pops—and sighed out a chirp. He glanced back to make sure Amia was still asleep.

She was still slumped over, hand resting where Owen had once been.

Something seemed off.

Owen wasn't sure what. But there seemed to be something bothering him about the image. She was… too still.

And for a while, so was Owen: still. His blinks were quick, when they happened, like he was searching for any sign of movement from her, his mind immediately snapping to the worst-case scenario. He took a hesitant step forward, like going closer would see the subtle movements of her breathing. He struggled to reach up to her nose to feel her breath, but that's when he realized that her eyes were half-open, a little smile on her face.

The surprise made him stumble, his hands instead slamming onto her side. He gasped—she was cold. As cold as the rocks behind her.

The only part of her that was warm was where he had been resting.

Thoughts didn't come to Owen immediately, only a blurry fuzz of muddled words, and even those he didn't completely understand. His head pounded with the beat of his heart, like it was trying to beat for the two of them. He reached toward Amia again, not thinking, just trying to feel for the cold again, like it wasn't real. His vision closed into a tunnel, and then a pinprick of light, and then nothing.

"I don't want to leave you," Charmander said, wiping tears from his eyes. "It's not fair!"

Charizard's frown deepened. Her strong tail brushed him until he was sitting up, but Charmander kept his face hidden. His body shook with sniffles.

"Little ember, do you really not want to go with a human? Think of how much stronger you'll become. The adventures you'll have, the places you'll see. You'll grow wings. And if the adventure doesn't work out, you'll still learn and see what the world has. And if, after all that, you still want to come home… Then I'll be here."

"I don't care what's out there," Charmander said. "I want to stay home."

"But you're almost ready to go," Charizard said. "The humans' rituals for starting an adventure… They told me a few will be coming soon. You won't be part of that?"

"No."

Charizard opened her mouth, but suddenly an otherworldly screech, followed by an explosion, filled the air.

Owen woke up with a start, springing to his feet, but then fell over. His nose smashed against the rocks and he smelled metal. With a groan, the Charmander rolled over and looked back—a wraith was staggering away from the cave, burned from one of the Fire Traps.

Once his heart rate went back to normal, Owen steadied his breath and inspected the floor for the missing glow. He glanced back to see if Amia was doing alright—

There she was, still motionless, eyes half-open, completely oblivious to the explosion that had protected them.

She was still cold, and she still wasn't breathing, and Owen refused to believe it. He stepped back, turned around, and then turned back again, but the sight didn't change. He felt her wrist for a pulse again, and felt nothing, and her body was stiff. The only sign of movement came from the fact that she had fallen to her side, earning a surprised yelp from Owen, and then a flood of hope. She'd come back to life, and she'd soon grunt from being woken up so rudely. Because the body had moved. Downward, sure, but it moved.

No movement followed, her limbs twisted unnaturally and uncomfortably, though it wasn't like she would feel it.

"Mom?" Owen finally said, barely above a whisper.

He didn't even know why he said it, and soon, he was in front of her again, feeling her cheek for some sign of life. And then her arms, and then her head, and her eyes. He couldn't look at her eyes, yet he had to. He tried to close them, running his hand over the top of her forehead, but they stuck back open. Trying again yielded the same result.

"C'mon," Owen said, but he couldn't bear to try again. He instead pushed her back to a sitting position, but she fell over again. He let out a loud, helpless whimper and rolled her onto her back instead. Her arms stayed rigidly in place. She had to be in a graceful position, he had to get them crossed, why didn't it work for her, why couldn't she just—

Owen tripped over her dress and yelped, sniffling. He could barely see. And his stomach was still twisted in knots. On his back again, he curled up, too lost to figure out if he was supposed to stand or stay there. Would another wraith come? It would just run into another Fire Trap. That didn't matter.

The ground rumbled again, but he didn't care. He wouldn't leave for a while. He should leave, and he knew he had to find a place to go, but not now. He… just couldn't. He couldn't.

Was she in the spirit world now? How would he get there? He wasn't even Mystic anymore. All of his friends were still looking for him. They were still fighting Anam. Or did the fight end? They would be looking for him.

But he couldn't leave! What about Amia? Or at least, what she left behind.

The isolated Charmander shook his head, taking deep, meditative breaths. It wasn't working. But he had to think rationally about this… He had no idea where he was, but he at least knew that Amia was probably more worried about him than he was of her. Maybe there was a bright spot to this after all; Amia could tell them where he was. Maybe they would set up a rescue party to find him.

They wouldn't be able to find him if he was hiding away in a cave in the middle of nowhere.

He curled up tighter when another pang of hunger hit him. He glanced at the gnarled vine that had once held those berries, then at Amia. Now that he thought about it, he still smelled… there was a hint of… berry rot. The smell of…

Owen stopped thinking about it, physically clenching his jaw and fists. He forced himself to his feet and paced left and right, angrily shaking his head. What if he burned her body? That was a proper way to… No, he didn't have the energy for it. The Fire Traps were too volatile; it wouldn't… burn it properly. Bury her? He was too small, too weak, and he didn't have the tools.

Would Amia understand if he just abandoned her body here? Or maybe he'd just tell her that he buried it, or burned it, because she was the Fire Guardian, and she wouldn't—no. He was a horrible liar. She'd know.

His stomach tied itself into knots again and he doubled over. The pain didn't go away; it was always there, dull and in slow, rhythmic spikes. He had to eat something soon, or…

Particles of purple dust bushed against Owen's back; the wind was picking up. It danced behind him in small waves of ruin before finally settling. Some of the dust collected on Amia's half-open eyes, further clouding them over. The rumbling was getting weaker; the large creature was going away.

Owen remained still for a while longer, his tail flame crackling once, then twice, and then it dimmed. He stared at Amia's body for longer than he'd ever admit.

A horrible thought crossed Owen's mind, and that's when he decided to leave.

"I'm sorry," Owen whispered, and before he could think twice about his decision, he used what energy he had to sprint out of the cave. He didn't look back.