Hoenn nearly shattered under the oppressive weight of its own guardian. The people were shaken and the League competency questioned. In a time of such turmoil, Eva has remained mysteriously quiet, absent in some sense. Her work got done, but her office door remained closed and one could rarely find her at her listed residence. Rayquaza too had been quiet. The dragon retreated to the heavens to recover in peace amongst the stars.

Many expected her to be right there by his side for his recovery. Primal Intoxication was, after all, one of her specialties. Her science was sound and the instructions clear. No one needed her to oversee it.

Too much time alone with her own thoughts and reflections of the crisis has turned her against her coveted peace. Uncharacteristic tempests and gales that tore across the remote Southern cliffs of Ever Grande Island reflected the turmoil that raged inside.

She is angry. Very angry.

Eva felt it was best not to come with Rayquaza. She could still feel a whisper of the dragon’s insatiable appetite to tear him limb from limb. Instead, she uses the familiar Gallade to TELEPORT home so she can’t hesitate and turn back around.

Everyone has to face their demons, eventually.

She doesn’t greet him in the same way. She can’t say his name. It dies on her parted lips as if something snatched it right out of her throat. She had thought about this moment so many times and prepared herself for what it might feel like to see him alive. A part of her thought it would be joyful, but the storm of feelings raging through her chest is anything but.

Instead of speaking, she just stares at him with unmistakable confusion that she fails to hide in her emerald eyes.

---

MATIAS SILPH

What’s wrong?!

Fire flashes briefly in her eyes. The dam almost cracks, threatening to drown him in a torrent of guilt and fault. He knows what’s wrong. But the foundation of the dam holds strong, because Eva Morales is resilient. Really, it’s the way he looks at her that fortifies the weaknesses. It’s Matias that looks at her, not the shell of him that had been parading around Hoenn for the last two years.

The movement of the Arcanine catches her attention. For a moment, her gaze bounces over to the fire-type. No doubt, it’s a painful reminder of the sacrifice kyle lopez made that Matias chooses to keep close to him. Perhaps it keeps him tethered to reality. The loss of the Champion and the bitter memories of his crumpled form disappearing in flames brings a single tear to the edge of her glistening eyes. She hastily wipes it away. It could have just as easily been a tear shed for Matias at that moment.

Eva approaches the bench with a few cautious steps but doesn’t round the corner to sit as gently commanded. She remains standing in unconscious defiance, just behind the bench while keeping his gaze. Her fingers curl around the back of it, giving her something solid to hold on to.

“You seem . . . different,” is what she finally says, a tentative observation becuase she’s not convinced of it quite yet.

---

MATIAS SILPH

Dying. The idea of it washes over her like a gentle wave but leaves a strong frown of distaste that tugs the corner of her pink lips down. It wasn’t the first time she had watched him die, and it wasn’t any easier. None of this was easy. She doubts but hopes, is angry but grateful, cautious but fearless all at the same time. In all honesty, she doesn’t know where her place is in all this, what role she’s supposed to play.

She promised once she’d never lie to him, so she doesn’t, “I am,” she admits with a gentle shrug, “I’m all those things . . . and more.”

Her weight shifts forward, leaning more into the stability of the solid bench in front of her. A part of her wants to be gentle with him, show patience. Another part of her burns hot with the desire to be fierce, and forward. To chastise him and put him in his place for everything he had put them through. Put her through.

Despite it all she does allow a smile to seep through, “Let’s be honest, Matias, you’ve never been normal,” she says it with an easy, playful cadence. Familiar, but unpracticed.

---

MATIAS SILPH

A normal man would have caved under the oppression of Rocket in Kanto, he thrived. A normal man would never won the favor of a god, he reigned in the most Volatile. A normal man would have died in Groudon’s chokehold, Matias lived. Eva never wanted normal or ordinary, she wouldn’t have settled for it. It was that fact that he was extraordinary that caught her favor and she wouldn’t trade that for anything.

His question remains unanswered for a moment. In that silence she rounds the bench to finally sit beside him, “I guess that’s why I’m here. To talk about it,” to put it to bed, to wrap it up neatly and burn it to ash so it drifts away on the very winds she commands.

Being tired is not something out of the ordinary. She hasn’t gotten a good night's sleep in a long time. Being restless is what makes her so tired. Her mind never stops trying to parse through the overwhelming amount of data coming at her and the need for answers she doesn’t have.

Anger, though, is a new one. And, yes, Matias and Groudon were the source of that anger. She’s angry about how it all happened, all the things she could have done differently to keep it from escalating to that point. But she wasn’t the main character of that story so there was only so much she could have done without being invited into the narrative. That didn’t make it any less frustrating.

“I know you weren’t quite yourself, but it doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t change the fact that I still see your face in my nightmares. It’s the same face I see when I try to think about fond memories when it all becomes too much. I get angry when I think about all the things I could have done differently . . . How I failed,” Failed him, and how she continues to fail Hoenn.

---

MATIAS SILPH

Not matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to relax against the hard wood of the bench. There’s nothing comfortable about this situation, despite how happy this place used to make her. Sentiments could change quite dramatically.

Her gaze sweeps from over the lake to him at his challenge. She had grown accustomed to his defiance whether it stemmed from his ego or a rare, more playful corner of his psyche. This was sincere defiance, she could see it in his eyes and the way he took responsibility for his actions.

“Desire is a dangerous thing,” she agrees, a heavy sigh bringing her gaze back to the calm, rippling water of the lake in front of them, “And when tempted by power, it can corrupt wholly.”

She shifts to sit a little straighter, leaning an elbow on the backrest, “What’s done is done,” that is an absolute. She sits quietly in her curiosity, battling with herself on whether she needs to indulge it or not. She thinks she knows the answer. Some things are best left to the imagination, but Eva didn’t like to assume, “What was it you desired that was so tempting?”

---

MATIAS SILPH

Eva is expecting the answer ‘power’. He surprises her by being more specific. More vulnerable. She doesn’t quite believe it, but perhaps she overestimated Matias’ capacity of logic.

“Hmph,” is all she offers at first, not shifting her stance but turning her gaze back out at the lake, “Funny way to get people to understand you. Did it work? Do you feel understood now?” It’s a bit of a cruel question, rubbing salt in the wound. A test, perhaps.

She understood him once, a lifetime ago. Before they both changed and were caught up in the whirlwind of the games of gods.

---

MATIAS SILPH

She smiles, pleasantly surprised by the answer.The edges of it soften, along with the unease of her tense posture. She briefly tears her gaze away from the lake to idly pick at her fingernails, a nervous habit.

“That’s good,” to understand yourself is the greatest mystery and the most rewarding. Eva couldn’t even claim such a bold statement of herself, “It can’t happen again, Matias. The seduction of power. You’re too dangerous. How do we make sure it doesn’t happen again?”

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MATIAS SILPH