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Elisabeth nodded; the distraught thoughts roiling beneath the stoic face of her companion went unseen. Hands entwined, they stepped forward into the ring of spectral revels, where countless Chandelure twirled about cackling Haunter and faintly glowing Litwick. Lavender, Elisabeth's Misdreavus, eagerly joined them in dance -- where at the centre of their performance stood a small assortment of white flowers.[break][break]
Peace lilies, Elisabeth thought with idle surprise. Had they ever bloomed here before? An old book's chapter on the flowers came to mind:
'The rebirth of the soul. Transcendence.' How many had she prepared for funerals in the past?[break][break]
Certainly none that had flourished here.[break][break]
As Elisabeth stepped closer to the lilies, however, one of the Haunter angrily stuck its tongue out at her, scowling in warning. An indignant Lavender soared in front of her mistress, sticking out her own tongue and howling in answer. The strange communion between the two Ghost-types finally resulted in uproarious laughter from both, leaving Elisabeth speechless as all the Pokemon looked upon her.[break][break]
A telepathic answer manifested in her mind, summoned into existence as if by another's words:
"All knowledge has a price. What will you pay for yours?"[break][break]
Elisabeth had once read a theory that Ghost-type Pokemon thrived on the despair and anguish of other living things, lingering in graveyards and abandoned houses. She had dismissed such notions, until her sobbing beckoned her Misdreavus to her boudoir so many moons ago, mirroring her muffled cries as if fascinated by the sorrow in their cadence. [break][break]
Perhaps they could sense those who had suffered, and delighted in the constant aura of that suffering.[break][break]
"I am sorry," Elisabeth said to the glaring light of curious eyes.
"But this flower must come with me." Thoughtlessly releasing Felix's hand, she reached for the silky white petals of the bloom... [break][break]
And in mere moments, her world became devoid of colour -- no mist this time, no throbbing pain, but still the same aching loneliness.[break][break]
This peace lily didn't bloom in the Petalburg Woods at all. It bloomed on a grave.[break][break]
The shared grave of Francis and Georgiana Fiorelli.[break][break]
"Or, does your lost love define who you are, Miss Fiorelli? Is it what you wish to be remembered for?"[break][break]
How recently
Martín del Mar had spoken those words to her, in the woods that had felt so real and been so present just moments ago. Elisabeth
knew, in her mind, that her feet did not stand on Kalosian soil. That these graves existed in a place far from her, and this flower likely no longer bloomed so beautifully in her absence, but only in her memory.[break][break]
Even so, the solemnity of this place stabbed at Elisabeth's heart more than the thunder of Bortiforte's voice, or the slap of his palm against her cheek. Shaking, her gloved hand reached for the tombstone, wiping away the dust with white fingertips that came back coated in black grime.
"Is this what you wanted from me?" Elisabeth whispered to the darkness, the words caught in her throat.
"Grief? Was the taste of my fear not enough?"[break][break]
How could she face this place again. How could she look upon them, the daughter they had poured so much love into, only for her to emerge as... as...[break][break]
Elisabeth fiddled with the golden ring on her left hand, shamed silent as she caught her cold reflection in the glossy marble of the tombstone.[break][break]
"It wasn't your fault. If I had listened to you both," she continued, her voice thick with regret,
"then perhaps..." No. This was a useless thought trod one too many times.[break][break]
A single doubt that had planted the first seed of hate in her, blossoming into thorns of spite. How red her hands had become, tangled in the blood of its nettles and briars.[break][break]
"I hope you can forgive me for what I've become."[break][break]
It was only when the bitter tears fell, one by one, that the memory released its hold on her: the greed of the ghosts sated by their salted taste of sorrow and regret. The flower that Elisabeth found in her hands before the spectral Pokemon was no peace lily at all; it was one that for all her knowledge she did not recognize, crystalline and pulsing with its own strange, latent power.[break][break]
And once more,
Felix Gallagher was nowhere to be found in the Petalburg Woods.