Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

Chapter 83 - Stew

If it wasn't for how thirsty he was, he would have been crying for a lot longer, but some part of Owen kept that from happening. He still couldn't accept it. Amia...

He couldn't remember what cave she had been left behind in. And he had no way to sense where she had gone, either. He was lucky enough to have the sense to bring the green crystal with him, but now that Amia was gone, he couldn't sense where she had been. It must have been tied to her aura.

Now, all Owen could do was follow that smell of stew. It was weaker than the day before—maybe because there was less of it—but that also meant there had been a lot before. Surely, they would have some to spare for him.

At this point, Owen had been more focused on one step after the other than anything else. He didn't want to think too much about what had happened, not until he had food in him. Otherwise... Perhaps he'd wind up seeing Amia a lot sooner than intended.

Another rumble shook the ground—they were becoming more frequent lately—and Owen dashed to one of the rocks, ducking behind each one now that the rumbles were so close.

He was starting to get reckless and desperate. The smell was so strong. He had to be close.

A booming shockwave cracked above him. Owen fell to the floor, covering the top of his head. Another one of those roars followed—the windy shriek of a giant. He whimpered loudly, trying to drown it out, until it finally passed. His chest felt like mush, yet his heart felt tight. He gasped for breath, not realizing that he had held it for so long. The very end of a dark blast, its faded particles shimmering like black-purple sparks, flew far above him.

They were different from the corrupted light that had been used to suppress his evolution, yet the colors still reminded him of that. And that, in turn, reminded him of his tiny, Charmander body.

At least it meant he wouldn't have to find as much food to support himself.

What was that blast? Owen looked up again, but the rumbles were becoming louder. He had to hurry if he wanted to avoid it. He continued to duck between larger rocks, using what little energy he had to sprint between the ones that were too far away, until he spotted a small cave.

He had to risk it. The smell was strongest from there.

He was mere steps away from the entrance when a shadow in the corner of his vision crawled across the ground. He stared at it, then looked up on reflex. His pupils narrowed in terror—something black was flying in the sky. He didn't have time to judge the size or whether it saw him—he only scampered into the cave, not looking back, and then tripped over a small, raised platform.

"Urf—" He didn't smash his face this time, at least. The ground shook again and a few loose rocks hit the dusty ground outside. Softer. It was going away. And he didn't see that flying creature's shadow, either.

With the immediate danger out of the way, he could finally focus on his surroundings. He brought his tail forward, holding it like a torch, and found nothing but a large, stone pot in the middle, over a dying fire made from wood that he recognized as being from the forest.

Without thinking, he ran toward the pot—which was twice his height—and tried to think of how to get inside. He scanned for any wraiths, but found none. There didn't seem to be any traps—but who else could make traps like him? He just had to climb up and get some.

Little bowls were scattered around nearby. Had this place been recently abandoned? Probably because of that huge titan. Could it smell the food? That would've gotten its attention...

Owen pressed his hand against the stone bowl, hoping it was light enough that he could at least roll it to get inside. The moment he did, he felt a jolt of energy rush through him. He yelped in surprise and pulled his hand back, shivering—it was warm, but it also felt like he had been hit by one of Enet's sparks. He poked it again and felt the same spark—so that was the trap.