Chapter 7 – Not Quite Dead

"You're… you're Mew." He pointed an accusatory claw toward the pink god. "Mew!"

"Yep!"

"And—and you're… you're talking to me. You know my name."

"Uh-huh!"

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

"Aww, you're shy! I like the shy types." She gave Owen a little wink.

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

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

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

The Mew giggled. "Oh, call me Star. My name's Mew Star."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wh—uh—that—" Owen gulped. "D-don't do that."

"Don't do what?" Star asked, flicking her tail again.

"That."

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

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

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

"O-oh, so, you're—"

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

"That's…"

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

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

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

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

"…You told me to touch it!"

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

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

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

"So, it was intentional!"

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

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

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

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

Owen stiffened. "I'm an intruder?"

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

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

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

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

A blink's time passed in silence. Then, "I'm DEAD?!"

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

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

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

Owen nodded silently.

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

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

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

Someone spoke from behind them. "It's what happened to me."

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

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

"The Espurr?" Owen asked.

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

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

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

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

"Uhhhh—" Star fidgeted. Her tail twitched. "You have a lot of… potential! That's all."

Owen crossed his arms. "How come, for real?"

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

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

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

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

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

"I mean… Yes."

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

"Take… just take me to the Core."

This temptress had led him right into a divine trap.

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd hope so!" Owen said. "You made life!"

Star giggled. "I do my best."

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

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

"…Is it hard?"

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

The Mew's confident smile was enough to brighten his tail. "Thanks, Star."

He was going to die.

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

Star giggled, scratching her left ear. "…Owen."

"Yeah?"

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

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

It was uncharacteristically serious of her…

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

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

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

"If you took everything carefully," Star said with an amused smile, "you wouldn't be here."

Owen's face felt hot. "F-from here on out, I'll be more careful."

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

And with that, the Charmander passed through the distortion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

For some reason… Owen's heart ached. "Hi?" he asked, tail dimming. "Are you… alright?"

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

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

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

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

"Oh…"

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

"There it is," Star said.

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

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

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

"Might feel a little hot."

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

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

"Nice!" Star said.

"What now?" he asked.

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

"Hated it."

"Well, at least you weren't fighting spirits the whole way."

Owen snorted.

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

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

"Why?"

"I dunno. I'm bored. Maybe we can—"

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

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

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

"Eh. He'll be fine."

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

"Star," Klent said.

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

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

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

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

"And yet—"

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

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

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

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

Star bit her lower lip.

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

Star winced, looking down. She had no retort.

"I'm going to see Amelia."

"Yeah…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm home," Rhys said, entering the mouth of the cave.

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

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

Mispy and Gahi stepped out of the bedroom.

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

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

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

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

"H-he's… he's sleeping," Demitri said.

"Y-yeah, maybe we shouldn't bother'm," Gahi said.

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

Owen groaned from the bedroom. "Ugh, my head…"

"Th-there!" Demitri said. "He's awake!"

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

"W-wait," Demitri said, "I… Owen?"

Gahi stared. "How the…"

Rhys crossed his arms in resignation. "Hello, Owen."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"AAAAAUUUUUUUUGH!"