Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

Chapter 137 - One Hour

It was more awkward than he'd wanted, but soon, he was nodding at guards and walking into the castle. Cipher City was behind him, and Qitlan was just ahead, like he knew he'd be back, smiling wryly.

"Good to see you. What wonderful timing," Qitlan said. "Your prize with Mhynt is ready. Would you like to redeem it now?"

"...Yes," Owen said, figuring any time overthinking this would lead Qitlan to getting even more information, somehow. "I'm guessing I'll be redeeming my servant prize last?"

"Of course. Whatever happens in there... I certainly won't pry." He chuckled. "Do at least have some decency. I know how primal you can get, and such a reunion would be very tempting."

Owen's flame sparked several times and he tried to steady himself. He was glad Qitlan's element was Water, because he may have been tempted to incinerate him otherwise.

His chest hurt a little.

"Show me the way," Owen finally said.

"Of course."

This time, Owen got to ascend this castle and take ornate, carpeted stairs to an upper floor. The stairs went up in a zig-zag pattern, and he idly wondered if this was inspired by something from the human world or an old Kiloan invention. Perhaps, in some ways, it was both.

The upper halls were lined with little bowls of candy that made Owen wonder how often they were secretly picked from, and why they were there. Was it for Aster? Probably for Aster, if his vague memories of the Mewtwo were anything to go by.

"Just this way, that door." Qitlan pointed. "She's waiting. Once the door shuts again, the timer will begin. Don't squander it... Make every moment count." He winked. "Of course, if you wind up asking her to be your servant, you'll have all the time in the world."

Owen suppressed an eyeroll and thanked him with a hum. He reached up to the door handle, briefly wondering how Mhynt did it when she was so much shorter, and turned.

The inside of the room was lined with colored stone and wood, appearing more like a cottage, and a red-and-brown carpet in a square-striped pattern. Brown rhombuses decorated a few of the squares. Standing on the opposite side of the room, which would take Owen a full thirty seconds to pace across, was Mhynt. She was reading a book, seated by a small table meant for her size, on a stool meant for someone a little larger.

He closed the door. To the right, there was a little timer that turned on, counting down from sixty minutes.

"So, you're here. You played his little game. How do you feel?"

Her words were icy. Owen couldn't keep the cold off of him; Step would be jealous.

"I feel, uh, confused and frustrated, I guess," Owen replied numbly. "But we have an hour to talk and he said that nobody's really watching us right now. He kept everything else as the truth, so maybe that's true here, too?"

"I suppose it is," Mhynt replied. "...But I have nothing that I want to say to you."

"I—I figured that might've been it," Owen lied, eyes searching for some hidden signal. But it seemed they were both in agreement that Qitlan was probably still listening to them. They couldn't afford the risk. "Then... if that's the case..." He sighed, sitting down. "Can I just be with you?"

"Hmph. You've already moved on to another."

"No, no," Owen said again, "I... I know that. I can already tell that no matter what we used to have, things are... different. For both of us."

Mhynt scoffed, but Owen noticed her hand tense against her arm. He'd said something that hurt her. He wanted to apologize, but couldn't find the words.

After a silence where Owen didn't follow up, Mhynt replied, "Then why would you bother asking to be with me? Why did you prioritize that over the others?"