Strange Meditation

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

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

He was downing a simple sandwich and an apple smoothie. He spotted Lucario Rhys entering the café with the trio. Good, they got him.

"Hey!" Owen called, waving. His tail blazed a bit brighter with joy. There was something that warmed his heart about seeing those four, no matter the circumstance.

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

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

"I'm sure they'll be very proud," Rhys said, nodding.

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

"Well, go on," Rhys told the three. "Get your food. You skipped breakfast, after all."

"Meh," the Trapinch grumbled, wobbling forward first.

Owen watched them get in line, but then turned to Rhys. "You aren't eating?"

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

"How come they skipped breakfast?"

"They weren't going on a mission, so I used that as punishment." The Lucario grunted. "They would have a big lunch to compensate. They were trying to touch some of my treasures again."

"You mean that orb in your bag?"

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

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

"You simply shouldn't," Rhys said curtly. "It would be very bad if you touched it here."

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

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

"Can I at least see it?"

"You may not."

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

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

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

Rhys glanced at Nevren, but then at Owen. "Indeed, you're quite strong for a Charmander."

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

"Aw, I'll do fine." Owen waved his claws dismissively. "That Aerodactyl was a fluke."

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

"Just fine, Nevren."

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

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

"D'you like this café, Owen?" Demitri asked.

"It's good for something quick, and the smoothies! Perfect! I visit here all the time."

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

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

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

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

"Yes," Rhys said. "I think I will."

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

"If you pass."

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

Demitri jumped in surprise. "Wh-where're you going?!"

"Exams!"

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

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

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

"Talk about lucky." He leaned to the side to get a better look at what the exams were like. Last year, they were mock-Dungeon explorations. It seemed to be the same case this time around. Owen was first able to register his ID, and afterward, waited with the other Pokémon agonizingly for his name to be called—one way or the other—to go into testing. All the times before, he had been rejected. He wasn't sure why. He did well in the academic and sparring portions, to the best of his memory. But there were just so many other candidates that were better, he figured. But despite the pit in his stomach from the past days, he had a good feeling about today. This was going to be better. It had to be. Right?

It looked like candidates were heading into different Waypoints with established Hearts. Owen recognized most of the tiles as connections to weaker Dungeons that he'd be able to easily beat. If the test was to just get past those—this would be easy! He also noticed Anam standing in the back, watching every Heart get assigned. James was reading from a list, showing it to Anam every time. Every so often, Anam shook his head, and James seemingly skipped that line. How odd. Did Anam have final say? Once a name was given approval, James passed the word to the announcer. Owen's heart picked up the pace. Did his name just get skipped? Was that it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. For a Charmander, at least. You sure you didn't eat an Everstone or something?"

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

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

Eternal Whistler Cave was on the northern peaks, with ancient, black mountains carved by a constant, shredding wind. The cave itself was a structure that went in a winding path from one side of the mountain to the other; the cold air blew through this labyrinthine passageway constantly. The result was a noise of wind running through the cave, like a deep whistle or moan of some great titan. The easy way through the cave was to follow the wind, which blew from the south toward the north; the difficult way was against it. Apparently, a very small distortion existed here, leading to a small, junior-level Dungeon that was even less threatening than the one where he had encountered Aerodactyl.

Aside from the atmosphere itself, that is. The ocean was behind them; sheer cliffs threatened to plunge Owen to his death if he took a single misstep. And, in fact, he had nearly done so quite a few times. He imagined using his Badge as an emergency warp-away would be an automatic failure for this test. Still, it wasn't the fall that frightened him the most, or the constant wind. Even with his Fiery attributes, the combination of the altitude, the wind, and the cold made for a challenge that no wild Pokémon could pose.

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

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

"Y-you don't s-say?"

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

The black mountain's rocks were worn down from constant erosion. There were very few loose ones; only the biggest, densest boulders could withstand the constant force. Owen felt like one of the small rocks. He had to lean his body forward just to advance, and a single misstep—he'd tumble backwards and off the mountain for sure. His flame, half its usual size, cried for shelter.

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

"We're almost there!" Nevren said cheerfully.

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

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

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

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

Nevren nodded. "I'll give you an opportunity to do that before we have our true Dungeon exploration."

"Okay, sure!" Owen found a nice spot near the right side of the offshoot and sat down. There, he closed his eyes, trying his best to meditate. Now that the wind wasn't constantly battering him, the general cold was much more tolerable, the natural heat of his body more than making up for it. Breathe in, breathe out. In a strange way, the chill was calming.

"…Say, Nevren."

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

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

"Well, yes, though I would say the stereotype is a bit exaggerated."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the real world, Owen abruptly jumped to his right. "Ngh—what?" His body had moved on its own, as if he'd sensed something. He looked at where he once was; the rocks were severely warped into oblong shapes by a strange force. He stared ahead and saw Nevren, who was staring back with a blank, emotionless expression.

"A-Alakazam Nevr—"

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

"What're you doing?!"

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

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

Nevren stared at Owen. His eyes glowed.

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

Confusion washed into fear—and then—just as quickly, it washed into something primal. A roar of madness echoed in Owen's mind.

A burning flame in Owen's chest seared his insides; his vision felt red. The pain vanished. His body moved. It broke more from it, but without pain to stop him, he kept moving.

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

Nevren couldn't dodge this one. Owen wrapped his arms around Nevren, getting as strong a hold as he could; in a split-second, his teeth sank into Nevren's neck. Owen didn't hold back. His jaw clenched as hard as it could, until his jaws met—

"Ng—uff—!" Owen opened his eyes with a jolt.

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

"Hm?" Nevren asked. "Is something the matter? You weren't meditating for long."

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

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

Owen stood up, dusting himself off. Just in case, he checked his body for any possible injuries, but there weren't any. Perhaps he really was crazy.

It was easy. The Dungeon was filled with small Rock Pokémon like Geodude and Shieldon, yes, but Owen wasn't afraid of them. He could tell that they were weak. Unlike the Aerodactyl, which was hard to get close to, Owen could easily approach these slow-moving wilds and dispatch them with a single swipe of hardened claws. This Dungeon was in a rough area in terms of its environment, but the Pokémon themselves were less than formidable. For that, he was thankful—as the wind was still relentless. Nevren had a barrier up ahead of them to ward off most of the atmospheric onslaught.

The cave itself had the same general layout that Dungeons were known for. Corridors connected small rooms, this time made from the black rocks that had been carved by the cold winds. Within the cave, small pieces of sediment constantly chipped off of the walls, forcing Owen to walk with his eyes partially shut for fear of getting bits of mountain dust in them. Despite the barrier, Owen's body shivered at every step. It was like walking on frost, yet the dry winds from the south didn't allow for much ice to form.

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

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

"Hm? No, not that I'm aware," Nevren said. "Is that what happened? You seem quite shaken."

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

"Hmm. That's a very vivid dream."

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

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

"W-wait—really?!" Owen asked. A sneaky Geodude threw a rock at Owen, hitting him in the back. Between Nevren's barrier and how weak the Pokémon here were, he didn't feel the need to acknowledge it. Seeing this, the Geodude hastily crawled away.

"Of course!" Nevren said. "This is one of the designated testing Dungeons. If a recruit can pass it without assistance, and shows little signs of struggle, then it means you are ready to be part of the first tier of the Thousand Hearts. You may think of yourself as unskilled—" he shook his head, "—but in reality, few non-wild Pokémon get this strong or adept at fighting to handle such a task without trouble. Most only train themselves until they can reach the final stage of their species' evolutions."

It made sense to Owen. He didn't know how long he had been training for this moment. He had taken on more moderately difficult Dungeons in preparation for the exams. "So, I've just been training for so long, that my normal is most others' abnormal?" He carefully stepped over a small crevice; Nevren had barely noticed it, but Owen's shorter stature made it a conscious effort to avoid falling in.

"Yes, precisely!" Nevren said, chuckling. "You're quite abnormal indeed, Owen."

"Aw, shucks!" Owen laughed. A volley of rocks grazed the top of his scaly scalp.

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

"These guys are persistent," Owen said.

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

"Totally." But then, a thought occurred to him. "Abnormal…"

"Hm? What was that, Owen?"

"Uh, Nevren? I think I overheard someone after the Ceremony talking about some kind of… mutant Pokémon being spotted. You said you'd take care of it. What was that?"

"Ahh, that was nothing to be concerned with. Pokémon tend to be a bit jumpy about the wild Pokémon in abnormal places, thinking they're mutants. Sometimes they just happen to wander. I helped relocate the… creature to its proper place, and all was well."

"Oh! That's kinda cool. So, are those missions usually reserved for Elites?"

"Actually, Rhys and I reserve those sightings for ourselves, as we're specifically trained with 'abnormal Pokémon relocation,' so to speak."

"Oh, wow! That's so cool!" Owen said. Still, it was odd that there were strange Pokémon to begin with. Where did they come from?

"In any case," Nevren said, pointing at the final distortion of light, "let us return home."

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

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

"Sure."

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

"So," Owen said, "how'd those recruits do? The ones you handled?"

"Feh, they ain't ready." He clicked his jaws. "Figure yeh passed, though?"

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

"Heh." Gahi's eyes glinted with amusement. "Well ain't that something. Maybe we can form a team o' four, go exploring. Three's a good number that most recommend, but eh, four ain't beyond us and what a Badge can handle, even if we gotta rescue a few folks along the way."

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

" . . . Strange, isn't it?"

"Creepy, more like!"

"They should've investigated."

"No way! That wasn't part of the mission!"

Owen cleared his throat. "Um—what was creepy?"

"Y'didn't hear?" Gahi asked.

"What?"

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

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

Gahi shook his head. "Nope. Rhys handled some other team. They're gonna send someone in ter investigate. Pro'ly gonna see the mission go up soon." Gahi glanced at Owen. The Charmander didn't even have an opportunity to ask: Gahi asked for him. "Wanna go?"

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

"Sure. But we have to be back before sunset! Let's get Demitri and Mispy."

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