Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

Chapter 8 - A Thousand-Heart Secret

"I'm a PLANT!" Owen screeched, grabbing his chest and tugging gently at the feather-like arrangement of leaves that covered his body. He yelped when he realized that it was a lot easier to pull them away than he had expected. One of the leaves fell to the ground; a tiny splotch of green blood remained where the leaf had been plucked.

"Ow." He at the small hole left behind. The bleeding stopped quickly. "N-not that there's anything wrong with being a plant," he said to Mispy, who was glaring at him. "J-just—I'm a Charmander! Charmander! Like fire! Not a—a—"

"Grassmander?" Demitri said.

Demitri's remark sent Gahi over the edge. The Trapinch laughed, rolling his huge head and round body on the ground. "GRASSMANDER!" he shouted to the heavens. "Oh, Arceus may's well kill me now; there ain't nothing gonna top this!"

"It's—it's not funny!" Owen's feathers fanned out, making him look much larger and puffier than before. "I'm not ready for this!" He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Gahi had a point to laugh at the situation, for one reason or another. And perhaps, in a few days, Owen would laugh, too. But for now, at the front of Owen's mind, the Grassmander was thinking about the most effective way to crack an exoskeleton.

"Now, Owen, close your eyes," Rhys said carefully. "Try to meditate, yes? Can you do that?"

"I...! I... I'll try." Owen felt the vine in the back of his throat well up. He was used to embers billowing from his mouth when he did that. Instead, he felt that same, horrible tendril prodding at the back of his throat. He gulped to keep it down. It writhed in his gut like a giant parasite. Owen clutched his belly. "I guess it's—is this permanent?"

"Likely not," Rhys said. "Owen... you absorbed the Grass Orb into your being. The Grass Type, in other words, is manifesting itself in you. But soon, your body will properly assimilate it, and you will return to your Fiery self—and, perhaps after a bit of training, you'll be able to transform from one form to the other at will. That can be quite useful."

"O-okay... okay, I think that makes sense..." His breathing steadied. "So, I just have to wait for now? Rhys—how do you know about all this?"

"I've studied it before," he said dismissively, "And, hrm... Owen, could you come with me? I would like to take you to town."

"H-hey, can we come, too?" Demitri said.

Gahi raised his head, finally calm enough to not chitter his laughs between words. "Yeah, I wanna hear what this is all about."

"Please?" Mispy asked.

"Ngh... I'm not sure," Rhys said. "We will see."

"We're gonna follow," Gahi said.

Rhys growled, "Are you going to disobey me?"

Mispy shrugged with her vines. "Owen will just tell us."

The Lucario growled. He knew they were right. "You will come," he said, "but you will be silent unless addressed. Understood?"

"Silent, eh?"

"Gahi." Rhys glared.

"Okay, okay." Gahi flicked his head in what was his species' equivalent of an eyeroll. "Silent."

Owen nervously shifted his stance. He thought Rhys would be extraordinarily upset at him for touching the Orb, and he remembered Star's words to behave conservatively for now. Perhaps she was right about convincing him; he didn't feel that tension from Rhys. At all. In fact, Owen sensed... relief. Rhys was relieved that Owen grabbed the Orb.