'You never walk into the same forest twice,' or so her mother's old saying went. Elisabeth had never given that sentiment much weight, though, at least not after so many morning strolls through this woodland grove. The comfort of its predictability had centered her.[break][break]

Outside of her Petalburg cottage, the sight of each landmark had been welcome for its familiarity: the winding bend of each babbling brook, the knotted knolls of the same ancient trees, and the well-worn paths that all led to the same destinations without fail.[break][break]

But the Petalburg Woods had still changed, hadn't it, season by season? Like people did, little by little, their inner natures revealing themselves like the inevitable turn of the leaves. Such was the natural cycle of things.[break][break]

Nostalgia drew her here, she supposed, to wander this place that was no longer a home to her. And grief, perhaps.[break][break]

There was always too much for her to grieve.[break][break]

No springtime meadow could be seen here with rosebuds shyly unfurling into bloom by the riverside. No crystablooms shimmered here to bewitch passerby with their mysterious beauty, flourishing impossibly in the heat of summer. No rampaging beast yet terrorized the woods into the early advent of autumnal decay.[break][break]

The onset of winter was an erasure of what had been -- a merciful death to what was in order to pave the way for what had yet to be.[break][break]

So why was this scene still so familiar?[break][break]

She froze at the sight of the oblivious figure in the distance, a hand reaching to steady herself against a nearby tree as a breath caught in her throat.[break][break]

Yet this was not the same scene they'd shared almost two years ago, she knew. Time had withered that, killing it along with everything else.[break][break]

Reason urged her to flee him, but as she turned to depart, a branch treacherously crunched beneath her heel.

[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPH[break][break]

[attr="class","pkmn"]

Running came second nature to her. She'd fled Kalos for her crimes, and if it came to it, she would flee Hoenn for them, too.[break][break]

He was the sort of person who never backed down from a challenge, no matter the impossibility of victory. She on the other hand would turn tail at the first sign of true and present danger, regardless of her chances of success.[break][break]

Poison was the coward's weapon, after all.[break][break]

Mist blanketed their surroundings in a lulling, rosy cloud of pink, building an ephemeral labyrinth that denied her an exit. The architect of that barrier revealed herself silently and without warning, and Elisabeth found herself equally transfixed by the arrival of Tapu Fini after so many days and nights of the goddess's absence.[break][break]

Had the Guardian of the Seas changed her mind, then? Paranoia took hold of Elisabeth at this strange timing, and the woman turned to FERNANDO SILPH again, betrayal in her eyes.[break][break]

"Are you choosing him, then?" she asked the deity quietly under her breath, unable to think of any other reason for this forced meeting. "freya morningstar refused you, and ALEXANDER STONE didn't have the will for your needs. Are you returning to familiar waters?"[break][break]

She said nothing at all to him.[break][break]

It was impossible to know what to say.

[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPH[break][break]

[attr="class","pkmn"]

Silence greeted her accusations, uncaring and unfeeling in its vast sea of quietude.[break][break]

Better this than the demon that had hunted and haunted her, she supposed. Better this unknowable presence than the overwhelming influence of something intent on pressing its every thought and feeling on her own psyche.[break][break]

Ironic that two Avatarships had left her more alone than she'd ever felt.[break][break]

Tapu Fini's former Avatar said something across from them. Something faint and indiscernible. She couldn't make it out exactly, only that she didn't think it was aimed at her, but at the god situated between them both. Was he pleading with it, maybe? Bargaining to get it to change its allegiance?[break][break]

"If you won't make him your ally, then he's your enemy," she hissed to the deity, taking a slow step back. It wasn't a true escape, but a hinted request for one. "He holds no fondness for you still."[break][break]

That much, at least, she suspected she knew of FERNANDO SILPH.[break][break]

She knew how men like him viewed their discarded possessions.

[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPH[break][break]

[attr="class","pkmn"]

"Dying kills the soul."[break][break]

There were many kinds of deaths. Some were meant to be endured by the living, existing as empty husks of the people they were before the loss of whatever it was that made life worth living.[break][break]

A quiet part of Elisabeth believed Avatarship was one such death of humanity. To murder another human being, knowingly, was another death she'd known, too.[break][break]

Maybe that was what invited bitterness and regret to crawl up inside of the living and dead alike, like covetous tendrils of ivy staking claim to a grave.[break][break]

In this moment, it occurred to her that Fernando wasn't speaking to her. Or about her, really. Whatever it was he tried to bargain with Tapu Fini over, she didn't understand it, and an alarm sang through her at the realization she couldn't read her patron, either.[break][break]

Those large blue eyes seemed so empty, like an endless and unknowable sea.[break][break]

"Stop entertaining him," she demanded of the Guardian of the Seas, a silent panic building up inside of her. "He isn't worth either of our time."[break][break]

But surely the deity knew her fear, just as well as that of its former Avatar.

[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPH[break][break]

[attr="class","pkmn"]

Balance? Elisabeth couldn't help but scoff aloud at the notion, as much as she didn't intend to interfere in the conversation between her patron and its former Avatar.[break][break]

She'd never taken it for granted that the gods wanted balance. She assumed they were selfish, just like people. Gods served their own ends, and anyone who stood in their way would be damned for their hubris.[break][break]

Had Wo-chien not taught her that lesson? Had that not been the very definition of what it meant to be Vindictive?[break][break]

To assume any god cared about the world was to assume too much of their fondness for other living things.[break][break]

It shouldn't surprise her that the arrogance of men extended this far. The audacity of the question was striking to her nonetheless, and her expression showed this, bewildered and tinged with its own mocking amusement.

[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPH[break][break]

[attr="class","pkmn"]

She felt the brief glance of that single eye with all the intensity of a bolt of lightning, its quick dismissal of her presence a cruel judgment that cut into her like a knife.[break][break]

"Not the same." So she was 'lesser than,' again. As always.[break][break]

A lesser Avatar to a patron who deserved better. A lesser woman to a man who prided himself on never having regrets. A lesser human being for having aligned herself with humanity's most monstrous individuals.[break][break]

She bit back her desire to retort, furious that someone who mattered so little still had the ability to cut into her wounded pride. She hated that she'd given him that power over her for even a moment.[break][break]

But was it wrong?[break][break]

Hadn't Wo-chien, for an instant, entertained the idea of changing its alliance to freya morningstar? Didn't Tapu Fini, even now, flirt with returning to her former chosen one?[break][break]

"Not the same" meant "never enough."

[attr="class","ooc"] FERNANDO SILPH[break][break]

[attr="class","pkmn"]