Chapter 3 ~ Ceremony of Advancement

With dinner finished and plates cleaned, Rhys dismissed the trio to their rooms. Gahi wobbled into the left, deeper room. Demitri and Mispy head into the left room closer to the kitchen. Owen noticed that Mispy was being quite pushy with Demitri, playfully prodding at his back with her vines. Demitri, meanwhile, meekly bumped against her with his tusks, flicking his tiny tail against her front legs, which earned a giggle in response.

“Bah, get a room,” Gahi muttered.

“We are,” Mispy countered.

Owen chuckled nostalgically at the three. He decided, for now, to ignore why he had felt like reminiscing on memories he did not have. Seeing the three head into two bedrooms answered the use of part of the house. Figuring one of the remaining two was Rhys’ quarters, which left one unaccounted for.

“Uh, Rhys?” Owen pointed down the hall. “What’s that room supposed to be? The one there?”

“The furthest, right room? That is for storage of our supplies,” Rhys said. “Extra items that aren’t supported as easily in the official Heart storage facilities. Spare furniture, and the like.”

“Oh, so the glowy room is yours?” Owen asked, leaving no question unasked.

“Yes,” Rhys said.

“So,” Owen said slowly, “why’s it glow?”

“I have a few items in my room that glow,” he said. “It is nothing else, really.”

“Oh, okay.” He wasn’t convinced. “Nothing about any ghosts, maybe? Spirits, little,” Owen paused, “pink clouds?”

“Pink,” Rhys repeated. “Are you sure it was pink?”

The right side of Owen’s lips twitched upward. He got him this time. “Yeah, definitely pink.”

“Hrmm.” Rhys’ ears twitched, the aura sensors accompanying them rising just slightly. “What was this pink cloud doing?”

“Kinda, well, bobbing around when I looked at it. And then it went into your room.”

“I see.” He spoke analytically, but it felt forced. “Thank you, Owen. I will investigate this later, but it’s far too late tonight. I will take you home.”

Owen relented. It was late, and he was tired, and Alex was going to blow up with worry. A fresh day could help him think straight.

<><><> 

“So, this is Hot Spot Road,” Owen said, walking down the road he’d taken to get to Kilo Village that morning. To the left was a rocky hill with boulders the size of Rhys. To the right was a great field of light green grass that went up to Owen’s chest. With the sun already down, it was hard to see much more than a sea of wavy blackness in the fields and jagged darkness in the mountains, though the tops still stood out against the barely-lit sky.

The walk felt so leisurely and casual despite Rhys being an Elite.

Should he say anything? No. He’d look like a complete lunatic. But if he didn’t ask, it’d bother him all night, and then the next night. He had to ask. So, he stopped walking.

Rhys stopped, too. Owen wondered if he’d expected that.

“Rhys…” Owen turned to face him. “Do I know you?”

For just a second, it was as if the very wind had stopped between them. For that instant, nothing else mattered but the two of them. The rustling, tall grass quieted. The sunset and twilight ruled the world, save the flame that lit Owen’s back.

The Lucario’s eyes, which glowed just barely in the darkness, held no expression; that, in itself, was abnormal to Owen. Why would someone not react to such an outlandish statement unless they were prepared for it?

But after that silence, Rhys replied. “Well, I imagine you would.” He shrugged noncommittally, though his evasion of eye contact said more. “As an Elite Heart, I’m known by many.”

Not good enough. “No, but… know you, know you,” Owen pressed. “Like I used to chat with you and stuff. Do you ever get the feeling that you know somebody for a lot longer than you actually do? That there’s more to it?”

Rhys blinked a few times. Owen’s heartbeat picked up in both frequency and intensity. He tried to get a read for Rhys and his tension, but it was too hard. He was too controlled this time. Owen had a knack for being aware of these bodily cues, but he couldn’t get anything from Rhys.

Finally, Rhys answered. “I do not believe in love at first sight.”

Simultaneously, Owen’s tail burned white and his heart skipped a beat. “N-not in that way!”

He turned around and walked again. He puffed into his hands, letting the flames escape between his fingers. How could he have said it in that way? As if he was trying to propose to Rhys some sort of—courting—Owen shook his head fiercely, imagining a scenario where Rhys would have blushed and said yes. He’d’ve had to let Rhys down nicely, say that wasn’t what he meant. And then, for all eternity, any interaction he’d ever have with his idol would be awkward.

Slowly, his flame returned to normal. “Sorry,” he finally said. “I guess I’m just a little tired after the day. I didn’t expect to get pelted by rocks in that forest, is all. And I’m pretty sure he broke the quick-call limit on his techniques. Maybe I’m just delirious.”

“Mm, that could be it. I’m glad that I can give off such a friendly aura, though. Thank you, Owen.” Rhys chuckled. At least one of them got to be happy…

“Ha! Totally,” Owen agreed. He was screaming inside.

He didn’t know what to make of it, so he just smiled and laughed. He saw no other opening to probing Rhys for those odd feelings of familiarity. He’d have to deal with tossing and turning at night anyway.

Rhys went on, “Being able to use many elemental techniques quickly, in rapid succession… Most Pokémon are limited to four at once. Anything else takes time and focus to summon forth. They say that rare Pokémon do not have this limit. It’s called Mew’s Blessing. Of course, Mew has not shown her face for a very long time.”

Owen held his skeptical tongue.

“But that could be an explanation if Aerodactyl inherited such a blessing from his ancestry.”

They walked for a while longer, the conversations transitioning to small talk again. Owen huffed a small sigh, a few sparks of irritability leaving his nostrils. He was home. “So, don’t tell anybody about this, okay? We’re going to Hot Spot Village—it’s a secret, underground town. That’s where I live. And, um, you can only get in if you say the passcode, and do the pose.” Owen said the last part in such a soft tone that Rhys only heard it thanks to his keen hearing.

 “…Pose.”

“Yeah. Okay, so, I’ll do it, but you have to turn away!”

Rhys squinted but humored him.

Owen, after verifying that Rhys wasn’t watching, turned toward what looked like an innocuous boulder next to the road. A motion accompanied each syllable. He whispered, albeit loudly, the words:

“Hot! Spot! Hot! Spot! Open up, Hotspot Cave!” Owen had raised his left arm, then his right arm, and then brought his left arm down, and then his right arm. This was followed by swaying to the left, and then the right, and then the left and right again; next, he stepped backward, and finally advanced.

Rhys was rubbing the top of his muzzle, cringing. He wasn’t the only one. Every time Owen did this dance, a tiny part of his Char heart withered away. The wind carried its remnants.

“There,” Owen said. He looked back and saw Rhys trying to hide from the world with his paw. “What? It’s not too bad. And nobody would dare do it, so it’s the perfect disguise!”

After a delay, the boulder rolled to the right, revealing a hidden passageway into the ground. It was dimly lit by blue mushrooms that gave off a soft, cyan glow.

“Thanks, Rhys!” Owen said. “That was a safe trip. You should get home now, huh?”

“Yes. Thank you for letting me guard you, Owen,” he said. “Stay safe. Be sure to keep up your meditation.”

“Oh, sure!” Owen pumped a fist. “Yeah, you make Team Alloy do the same thing, right?”

“Yes, I do, that’s right,” Rhys said. “It’s very important for everyone.”

“Yeah. Okay! See you, Rhys!”

Owen watched Rhys leave for a bit longer. No, it wasn’t just some delusion. Unless he completely lost it, Rhys was hiding something. And perhaps Nevren, too. But then again, he probably just heard and saw them a lot. Both of them. They were Elite Hearts, after all.

There was no use focusing on the negative. Every night ended like this, wondering if he’d done something, or everything, of that day before. A lot of this felt new, yet he still had that lingering doubt. Maybe he was just getting paranoid.

At some point, it got tiring. He just wanted this perceived monotony to end. But hey, he didn’t have another mental crisis, panicking because he couldn’t remember how old he was. Oh, no. The thoughts were coming back.

He refocused on the positive. “Oh, wow,” he said. “I met two Elites in one day! That’s so… cool!” He bounced slightly but then remembered the timer on the boulder. He ran into the cave; a few seconds later, the boulder rolled back onto the passageway.

He ran past a few other inhabitants in the cavern. There was Auntie Arcanine. She waved at Owen as he passed. There was also a Fennekin, Chimchar, and Flareon trio that often played near the entrance at night before their parents would tell them to pack it in for the night. If anything, he knew he had the townsfolk to see, even if he wasn’t particularly close to any of them. They were all good friends, the village as a whole, no matter the age.

Owen’s house was near the back of the village, where it was even hotter. The home itself was like a cave within a cave; it was a circular entrance—big enough for his father’s bulky, Magmortar frame to fit through—that led into larger, dome-like rooms. Owen then realized the parallel it had with Rhys’ home.

“I’m home, Mom! Dad!” Owen called, stepping into the first, largest room.

“Ohh, Owen!” Amia called back. The Gardevoir adjusted her blue hair; there was a bit of ash remnant on the right side, perhaps from one of the kids’ pranks. She greeted Owen with a scratch under his chin—something Owen always enjoyed. “How did your little exploration go? We heard about what happened. You got in a bit of a scare, didn’t you?”

“Just a little,” Owen said. Should he ask? He was going to ask. “Hey, how’d you find out, anyway? Nobody knows how to deliver letters here!”

“We checked the, er, the bulletin board at the crossroads,” Alex said, stepping inside from the bedroom to Owen’s left. “Someone in town must have put it there.” He tapped his cannon-arms together. “Y-you… you did fine, right? You aren’t hurt?”

“No!” Owen said. “And I already had dinner, too! Lucario Rhys treated me with his Entry Hearts. They were all nice. Sorry that I was a little late.”

Both his parents’ eyes widened with alarm when he mentioned them, but Owen was so mentally exhausted that he decided that this was one battle he’d also ignore. He didn’t even want to bring up his dream of Alex literally exploding. Too much. Later. Another day.

 “Oh, I heard of them,” Amia said. “It’s nice that you made some new friends, Owen! But you know what we also heard?” She rapidly clapped her hands together. “Tomorrow is another big day for you.”

“Oh, yeah!” Owen said. “I might become an Entry Heart, too!”

“Exactly! So, get some sleep, Owen!”

“Totally!” Owen nodded. He ran right to bed.

And lingered near the entryway, knowing they’d whisper.

“I trust Rhys,” Amia said quietly. “His students can interact with Owen. It… I don’t think it’ll result in… I mean…”

“It won’t happen all at once,” Alex said. “Let’s just be very careful. I’ll come up with some chores that will keep him here when we need him close.”

The cold anxiety that flowed through his body dimmed his flame. But he was so tired. And if he confronted them now… What would they do?

Later. Another day.

Owen wondered how many times he’d told himself that.

<><><> 

The next afternoon was cloudier, much like Owen’s mood. He’d slept for perhaps a blink or two. Aside from essential missions for lost Pokémon or dangerous outlaws, there weren’t any Hearts going out that day. Instead, the southern portion of Kilo Village’s roads was packed, waiting for a big announcement at the top of the stairs to the main Heart building.

The southern side of Kilo Village was usually only sparingly populated with bystander Pokémon entering the line of warp pads along the roadway. Now? It was a sea of all shapes and sizes. A Pachirisu was balanced atop a Rhydon’s head. A school of Magikarp hopped as high as they could to get precious glances at the stairs that led to the Heart. A pair of Girafarig chatted while their tails nipped at one another.

Alakazam Nevren stood at the top of the stairs, assisting with an Exploud holding two hooks. Exploud kept his mouth open while holding the hooks. Nevren held a strange, black, rod-like device, waiting for their speaker to arrive.

Owen admired the significance of this gathering. The sheer number—almost all of the thousand combatants of the Hearts were right there, in Kilo Village, at the same time, not to mention the countless others who assisted with supplies, management, communications…

He was trapped between a Tyranitar and a Hippowdon. He stood near the back, trying to get a look—but with all the bigger, stronger Pokémon in the way, this was impossible. “C’mon, c’mon—can I get a little room, please?” Owen begged, pressed between a rocky thigh and a sandy hide.

“Hey!”

Owen struggled to look back, finally slipping out from their crushing bodies.

Demitri waved at him from a little hill. His green, scaly body was barely noticeable—he was just so small! Mispy was next to him, waving her long vines for better visibility.

Owen thought it was a bit too far away, but he complied anyway, if only so he didn’t get stomped on. He rushed over, weaving between the crowd with a series of ‘sorry!’ and ‘excuse me!’ mumbles.

“Need help?” a kind Machamp asked.

“Yes, please! There!” Owen said, pointing at Demitri and Mispy.

The Machamp brought a hand over his eyes and squinted, then nodded. He plucked Owen off of the ground and threw him in a far, wide arc over the crowd.

Demitri, startled, held up his arms and prepared to catch him, constantly repositioning in a panic. Mispy watched calmly, wrapping a vine around Demitri and pulling him half a foot to the left.

Owen landed perfectly in Demitri’s arms.

“Oof!” Owen wheezed as Demitri placed him on the ground. “Thanks for finding a free spot,” he said.

“It’s a good vantage point,” Demitri said, pointing ahead. “Oh! Here, if you want to get a better look, Rhys brought a Zoom Lens.” Demitri handed Owen a bulky pair of white glasses.

“Wh-what? These are valuable, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, but there are better items to use in battle.”

“Where’s Rhys, anyway?” Owen asked, looking around.

“All Elite members are supposed to be up front to send off the retired Hearts,” Demitri said. “So, we’re standing here for now to watch. All the front seats are for the Elites, anyway.”

Owen nodded and put the Zoom Lens on. He saw a bird-like Pokémon with a green, grassy hood. “Oh! There’s Decidueye James!”

“The second-in-command?” asked Demitri.

“What’s there?” Gahi asked, grabbing the Zoom Lens and struggling to use it on his huge head. “Bahh, these tools ain’t good fer Pokémon like me. Where’s the Trapinch-friendly gear?”

“Probably the same place you left your vocabulary,” Demitri muttered. This earned a swat from Gahi’s head.

“Enough,” Mispy said, using her vines to pull the two apart. They were strong enough to hold Gahi in the air.

“Oi, oi, l-lemme go!” Gahi wiggled his tiny legs uselessly.

Demitri huffed and leaned against Mispy’s vines, rolling his eyes. He turned his attention back to the ceremony preparations.

Gahi eventually calmed down enough for Mispy to set him back on the ground.

“Oh, oh!” Owen said. “There he is!”

The Heart of Hearts, Goodra Anam, had finally exited the building. The leader of Kilo’s eyes were big, and his body was as slimy as ever. There was always an energetic glow about him. Owen knew the sight well.

Anam took the device attached to the Exploud and looked at the crowd. He gave off a big, happy smile to them all. Owen didn’t need a Zoom Lens to see a smile that big. Anam waved, and slime shook off from the arm; James respectfully backed up to avoid dirtying his feathers.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming!” Anam shouted from the top, his voice surprisingly high-pitched. “I’d like to first welcome our Elite Hearts to the front so that we can see the best of our Hearts—role models that I hope you all will aspire towards!”

Claps, stomps, and cheers echoed from the audience while the Elites all walked up. While there were several Elites, three were more distinguished than the rest—Nevren, Rhys, and that Decidueye, James. Owen spotted that Golem from before among the other Elites, or perhaps sub-Elites in practice.

“Hey, what’s that?” Owen asked. Rhys was holding onto a small bag. Nobody else had one—why did Rhys bring a bag with him for this event?

“Feh, he brought that weird glowing ball,” Gahi said.

“Glowing?” Owen asked, recalling the strange glow when he had dinner with them the night before. “What is that thing, anyway?”

“No idea,” Gahi said.

“It’s this weird, green, swirly thing, like a giant orb, y’know? But Rhys always says that we’re never, ever supposed to touch it,” Demitri said.

Mispy nodded. “Ever.”

“I think I touched it once,” Gahi said. “Bu’ then I blacked out befer I could. Dunno how that happened. I ain’t gonna risk tryin’ again.”

“He moved it with a thick cloth and then sealed the bag,” Demitri said. “Not even he wants to touch it.”

“I once made ‘m slip, though,” Gahi said. “He told me it’s really strong, heh. So, I guess he doesn’t wanna get too strong.”

“He keeps it on the highest shelf,” Demitri said. “Too tall for Mispy’s vines to reach, and Gahi’s too short.”

“And you hate heights,” Mispy mumbled.

“D-do not!” Demitri said.

Anam continued. “I would also like to take a moment of silence in acknowledgment of the hard work that our departed Hearts have done for Kilo Village, and indeed, the whole world.”

This was a lot more formal than usual. It must have been rehearsed extensively. Owen could only imagine James exasperatedly trying to get Anam to remember the words properly.

Anam lowered his head. He then listed off a set of names, some of which Owen caught as familiar. They were all very old Pokémon that had worked at the dojo. Owen also heard names of other Hearts and realized that all of these had, over the year, died one way or another due to a mishap or other fatality in the line of duty. His tail dimmed in solemn respect; as noble as the job was, it didn’t come without risks. That was the whole point of their line of work: doing what’s dangerous so civilians could live safely.

Owen scanned the crowd immediately near Anam with his Zoom Lens. There was a Granbull next to a Nidoking, shoulder to shoulder. The Granbull was trembling but remained stoic. The only sign of emotion she showed was when she leaned against the Nidoking. He, meanwhile, was staring intensely at nothing, tears streaming down his face.

Anam spoke up. “We would like to thank Granbull Jin for his line of work, and grant him the title of Eternal Heart.”

Owen remembered reading about this story moons ago, during the winter. A strange mutant that had been described as a Golduck by some and a Toucannon by others had gotten dangerously close to Kilo Village. Jin had gotten there first, and he fought it alone, buying time before the Elites had arrived. A freak accident where everything had gone just slightly wrong. Despite Owen’s foggy memory, a vague image crossed his mind of seeing Alakazam Nevren passing through the town the day after, visibly upset, yet silent.

“His sacrifice saved the lives of countless others. For that, we are eternally grateful, and we wish upon him eternal peace in the welcoming arms of Arceus.”

Owen shifted uncomfortably, keeping his head down.

“By His blessing,” Anam said, raising his arms slowly.

“By His blessing,” some of the audience echoed; Owen followed, slightly out of sync.

Owen glanced up, thinking that it was over, but then realized that nearly the entire crowd had their heads down in silence. Flame sparking, he quickly brought his head back down—but the corner of his eye caught something.

Anam was glowing. It was subtle, but under the dim light of the cloudy sky, the Goodra had a weak, blue glow. Rhys’ bag, too, had an ethereal radiance. The Lucario was trying to cover it up with small movements of his paws.

As soon as it came, it faded. Anam and Rhys looked normal again, and the moment of silence passed.

“Thank you,” Anam said.

I—I’m not the only one who saw that, right? No, everyone had their heads down. But someone else had to have—

He glanced at Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi. They were all looking down, too. He then looked to his right. He saw a pair of Pokémon murmuring to one another. He tried to listen in.

“Glowed? Did he glow?”

“I saw Goodra Anam glow!”

“Maybe the rumors are true. They say the Heart of Hearts used to be a priest…”

“Maybe he is holy? Oh, thank Arceus, the whole town is blessed!”

Excuse me? He dismissed the notion immediately. Glowing like that happened all the time! The Hot Spot mushrooms glowed in the same way! It was simple bio-luminescence. Perhaps Anam was just a rare variety of Goodra, or he had some glowing moss as part of his breakfast or last night’s dinner. Owen had that once. It was embarrassing.

“And now,” Anam said, “I’d like to have all sixteen Old Hearts come up.” He clapped at the incoming sixteen. “You all have done a great job for all of us, haven’t you? All of your work. None of it will be forgotten! The many Pokémon that you’ve rescued, the many outlaws that you’ve corrected… th-the fun times that we all shared, training, talking… all of that… a-all of…!” Anam sniffled. Rhys rubbed the top of his muzzle; James visibly sighed; Nevren’s left eye twitched.

The Goodra broke down in a wail, rubbing his eyes with his free arm, flinging off slime and gooey tears in many directions. The combination of paying his respects to the dead, and then saying goodbye to so many heroic Pokémon, was too much for the leader of Kilo Village.

James pried the audio amplifier from Anam’s grabbers and continued the speech—which he had memorized for just such an occasion. “All of your efforts will be forever remembered in our records, and we all look forward to your relaxed lives as mentors and tutors for the next generation of Hearts that will take your place. We thank you all, and wish you all happy lives for many years to come.”

The audience, nearly as a whole, sighed.

Gahi clicked his jaws and bumped against Demitri’s tusks. “Every time with this guy.”

The Axew picked at his tusks thoughtfully. “It’s hard to believe that the leader of the Thousand Hearts has such a… bleeding heart for all his members.”

“Not really,” Mispy said, pulling Demitri’s claws away so he stopped chipping at his tusks.

Demitri awkwardly lowered his claws. “Yeah, I guess when I say it that way, it makes perfect sense.”

It sounded like James was finishing up the speech that Anam was too scattered to finish. Instead, while James read out the retiring Hearts’ names, Anam shook the hands, paws, hooves, and wings of those retiring or—in the case of a Magcargo—giving a respectful, sniffling nod.

“Th-thank you, f-for all you’ve done!” Anam sniffed. “Nn… nggooh… mmbbbn…!”

A few of the Old Hearts were a bit misty-eyed, too. Perhaps it was contagious. Maybe he smelled like pungent glowing moss. Someone approached Nevren on the side. Whatever was said was enough for him to discretely descend the stairs to talk away from the crowd.

“Anam’s very compassionate,” Owen admitted. “I think that’s a good trait in a leader, even if he takes it a little far.” His fire brightened. “To think I might one day be standing in front of him, retiring after decades of hard work. And then I’d start teaching new Hearts how to fight in a dojo or something like that. Yeah. That’s what I want. Maybe not the whole Arceus thing, but I’d like to be remembered a little.”

“Ain’t you thinkin’ ahead,” Gahi said, an amused glint in his eyes.

“I would also like to announce,” James said, scanning the crowd, “that with these sixteen Old Hearts leaving, we now need sixteen new members. To all those, ngh, Heart-working individuals with Provisionary Badges, we will be holding preliminary tests throughout today in the many dojos in Kilo Village.”

“Heh,” Gahi said. “Well lookit that, Owen. Guess that means yer gonna—where’d he go?”

Owen was already sprinting to the dojo.

<><><> 

Stiff silence filled a wide room in the training district of Kilo Village. Owen sat on the floor with a tiny, lap-height desk in front of him, going just above his belly. His flame was dim with concentration and his claws glowed with residual fire. In front of him was a sheet of paper with thirty questions on it, each one more difficult than the last, though all of them were multiple choice. The dreaded five-option multiple choice, of course.

An irritable buzzing sounded on his left. He glanced over and saw a Voltorb staring very hard at his paper, which was on a similar desk, though at ground level. Then, with a pop, a bolt singed one of the bubbles

To his right was a Gyarados, mouth closed in intense concentration, staring at a supersized version of the paper below him. His huge, serpentine form was pressed against the corner of the building so he wasn’t in the way, and he was using his whiskers dipped in ink to answer the questions. He was on the fourth, it seemed.

The questions were changed around this year, so Owen couldn’t just blaze through it like last time. He sighed against his pointer claw, maintaining a small ember at the tip. He scorched his answer into the sixth question.

In the back of the room was a large tank of water that drained into a bucket like an hourglass. A traditional timekeeper for a traditional organization. It was meant to last a thousand seconds—for some reason, Anam had a bit of an obsession with a thousand—but that wasn’t nearly enough time to answer all the questions. Every single one was tricky in some way. Policies intermingling, rare situations, but they all mattered. Equipment management, dealing with ferals morally, an outlaw with a hostage, survival tactics with minimal gear…

Before Owen knew it, the Scyther at the front of the room clicked. “Time’s up!”

“Urgh…” Owen breathed, hissing inwardly, and churred at the four empty questions at the end. He turned his paper over and slid it forward for the assistant Grumpig to collect. Stealing a few glances around, he felt at least a bit more confident that he’d pass. The academics were always easy for him; it seemed that most of the other test-takers could only answer a little over half the questions in time.

Wait. Did he put his name on the—Yes. He did. He saw his name when Grumpig took his sheet.

Owen sighed, standing up. That was one test down. Time for the fighting. With a quick walk outside—pressing against the wall when Gyarados stormed through, barely able to keep his sobs from becoming wails—Owen went across the dirt road and into the next building, wiping his feet on the grass just by the entrance.

Something went flying past Owen; he ducked just in time, feeling the cool sting of water brush against his scales.

“S-sorry!” a Dewott said, but then shrieked when a Shadow Ball slammed against his back. It exploded, sending him toppling forward in a crumpled, groaning heap.

“Don’t get distracted.” A Decidueye straightened his wings out, looking down at Dewott. “That will be all for the test. Please allow the next in line to fight. Your results will be recorded and presented to you alongside your academic score.”

Dewott sniffled and stood up shakily. Off to the side, an Audino waved him down; once he was close enough, a healing wave of energy quickly patched up his small wounds.

Owen breathed slowly. He was going to be fighting James, was he? But he seemed a lot weaker than usual. As Anam’s second-in-command, he could probably beat all of the Heart candidates at the same time.

Just next door, Owen heard the faded voice of James speaking to another set of candidates. “Substitute…” Owen mumbled. Curse his foggy memory; it was all coming back to him, now.

James was one of the best Substitute users around. It wasn’t just some doll or some lookalike statue. It was the real deal, making an actual, weaker copy of himself with a part of his aura. That was how James had described it, at least. He wasn’t sure how he was able to do something so intricate that not even the books had records of it.

The fight after Dewott—it was a haughty Nidorino this time—didn’t last much longer. He staggered to Audino for healing, and Owen realized that he had left early compared to other groups. He was next.

“Charmander,” James said, giving a nod. “Ah. Owen. Welcome again.”

Owen grinned. “Hey, Decidueye James. Er—just like last year, right?”

“Yes. I hope you do well this time.”

Owen suppressed a wince. Last time, he had been so nervous that he tripped over his feet and busted his snout before the battle even started. There had been blood everywhere…

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Owen raised his hands in front of his chest, balling them into fists. Fire blazing, he stepped into the makeshift arena within the sparring room—surrounded by a few observers, and nothing else but sturdy walls to withstand particularly intense battles. This would not be one of them, Owen was sure—particularly because it seemed like even as a Substitute, James was holding back.

“Ready?” James asked.

Owen’s fire flashed a bright yellow. That was enough of an answer.

James brought his wings forward, forming a bow-like weave from his wing. An ethereal arrow appeared where his feathers touched the bow. James tugged backward; the string of light stretched; an arrow aimed for Owen’s chest.

Owen reacted with a bubble of fire, though James deftly sidestepped. Owen’s attack missed completely, not so much as a singe on his feathers, and James fired his feathery arrow. Owen knew what a Spirit Shackle felt like and he’d rather not repeat it. He dove out of the way, the feather grazing the flame of his tail, and then rolled to his side. James was already preparing another arrow.

Owen’s Fire Traps would be useless like this. James was too fast and too dangerous to get close to plant one nearby—that aside, he also had no time to set one up in the first place. He just had to wait for an opening. But how was he supposed to find an opening from the Thousand Hearts’ second-in—

Owen didn’t know his legs could send him so high into the air, but he almost made a flip over the ground to dodge another arrow. He landed on all fours, puffing. He had to get James off his guard. He only really knew one way to do that.

Bitter darkness welled up in Owen’s throat. While James prepared another arrow, he spat a black, cloudy sphere toward him. James sidestepped it again, but that wasn’t good enough. It burst into a thick cloud of smoke, enveloping James.

The Decidueye grunted, evaporating his arrow in favor of blowing away the smoke. Now was his chance! Owen rushed toward James, closing the gap, and stomped on the ground, channeling his Ember through his foot. Then, he jumped away, right when the smoke cleared.

Owen spewed a small plume of fire to taunt James. He couldn’t do much after spending his energy on the trap, but it had to be enough so James wasn’t suspicious.

The heat scorched a few of his feathers, but that was all. He wordlessly readied another arrow. Owen retaliated with another blast of fire, this time veering it slightly to James’ left. He sidestepped again—right onto the trap.

Fire erupted from below James, the Decidueye hooting once in surprise. Owen lunged with fire in his throat, spewing flames at the Substitute, but just then, a ball of darkness erupted from the fire.

Eyes wide, Owen cut his flames and crossed his arms. Echoes of a golden dome formed and then shattered—his Protect was too slow. Instead, the Shadow Ball came straight at his chest, exploding on impact. The force sent Owen flying across the room in a spectacular spiral, the ground and ceiling rapidly switching places. He hit the floor three times, bouncing twice, and skidded into the corner of the room.

Owen groaned, the world spinning around him. “I’m okay…”

But his fire burned happily. He landed a good hit on James, and historically, that was more than enough to pass. The Heal Pulse that washed over his body—he was starting to worry about how used to this he was getting—only added to his satisfaction.

By the time his senses returned, he saw a few Pokémon standing over him. James, a Delphox, and the uncannily familiar face of Axew Demitri.

“Oh, hey,” Owen greeted. “Did I win?”

James straightened out the last of his feathers. “You didn’t win, but you passed. You nearly broke this Substitute.” He hooted again, inspecting one of his burned feathers as if it mattered. “I’m quite impressed, but I’m going to have to return myself to James so I may be replaced. Excuse me.”

The Substitute dissolved in a cloud of black mist.

Delphox sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “You must have startled James for him to do an attack like that on you.” He pulled Owen up. “Still, you should’ve guarded that attack. That Protect was slow.”

“I was trying to follow up with my Trap!”

“You got greedy,” Delphox said. “Just remember that next time you fight someone who completely outmatches you.”

Owen grumbled, breathing flames into his hands. This was going to be at least another session or two of meditating. Still, Delphox had a point. “Oh—er, Demitri.” Speaking to someone more his level was better. “Guess I did pretty well here and in the exam portion, huh?”

The Axew nodded twice, clutching at his tusks excitedly. “Yeah, good job!” Demitri said. “So, you’re going to get into the preliminaries! That’s nice, right? That’s gonna happen later in the afternoon, y’know. And then, after that—uh, if it goes the same way as last time—you’ll find out in the evening if you’re in or not. Fast!”

“Yeah… Yeah!” Owen’s eyes were almost as luminous as his fire. “That’s right! This is my shot!”

“We don’t have any urgent missions to take care of,” Demitri said, “so we’ll be there to cheer you on when you take them!”

The Charmander nodded, his flame brighter than ever. Even if he was a bit careless in a fight against someone as strong as James, he would be able to prove himself in the mock mission. Then they’d see—after that, he’ll finally be a full-fledged Heart.

Owen took a short breath to gather his thoughts. As excited as he was about the exams, he still had some time to kill. The lingering thoughts of the orb in Rhys’ bag returned to him.

“Hey,” Owen said to Demitri. “Where’s Rhys? I want to talk to him again.”