Chapter 5: Mutually Unrequited Desire
"Feyera?" Sanaria softly said to Edge as she slowly backed away from his body, still mildly trembling.
"Yeah Sana?" Feyera responded to her gentle voice. The tone he used completely reflected his own uncertainty. What had he done? Why had he done it?
She brushed her mint green bangs out of her eyes. "If things are this way now, are they going to stay like this?" she asked with a raising pitch.
"Umm…" Feyera hesitated, wholesomely unsure of what awaited him no matter what response he provided. He enjoyed his time with Sana for various reasons; things had changed ever since her presence in his life. She gave him a newfound purpose and identity. Her information proved insightful for his own quest. For once, he knew what he was dealing with concerning his peculiarities. And what a harsh truth it was. He was in a complicated mess involving a Gardevoir. Two Gardevoir in fact. Ironically knowing the truth made it harder to swallow such terms. Despite the natural draw his mind had to truth, he was strangely paralyzed by implications.
But "truth" did not stop with him discovering Gardevoir attributes remained anchored to his body as a consequence of Semblance. Sana was methodical enough to make his mind come to terms with it on his own. Feyera was accustomed to having knowledge and truth release him from doubt and uncertainty, elegantly replacing them with fortitude and conviction. The discovery did not set him free however; it only served to bind him further to the Pokemon he'd killed—accomplishing the very antithesis of his original intent to be liberated.
Because of this, Feyera felt the urge to break out from the inhibiting shackles locking his life in a vice grip. In particular, her vice grip. He wasn't entirely sure of what exactly she wanted, but practical wisdom told him that he wouldn't be able to offer it in the long term.
"We'll see," he said motioning to his arms as he pushed off the ground and brushed some dirt off his shoulders. He noticed that despite his short black bomber jacket being relatively cheap, it still retained its crispness. It was a pleasant surprise to find it was holding up nearly as well as the Alterieno boots he adored.
"What do you mean 'we'll see'?" She was already ahead of him, sitting up by now. Her figure shone in the peak sunlight, causing light to reflect in dazzling ways. "What does that mean?"
"I told you, we'll see," he said irritated. Edge wasn't about to make any promises he couldn't keep. He didn't even know what all of this meant for himself or for her.
She backed off and rose off the ground effortlessly, signaling to Edge that the feedback fall had ended. "I want things to be like they have been, but—" she beckoned at him to get up, but he refused. The denial remained, rearing its ugly head whenever their bizarre infatuation lulled.
Deep down Feyera wanted it to continue. At least under his terms. The infatuation was too great to dismiss. Even if he wanted to dispel it as a passing phase or an instance of spiritual weakness, the fact remained that he had kissed her. But what was the part of him that had made the plunge? Chris? Seph's shard? A blend of the two? Could that part even be defined? The questions of responsibility and blame racked his brain.
He wanted the best of both worlds. And unfortunately, Sana and he—Chris—were not in the same equation. By sheer fundamental facts they couldn't be. He was a human and she was a Pokemon. One would eventually need to be sacrificed. Until the time came when the Mercury Relic allowed for a reversal, he assumed that he could fill both margins.
And that meant figuring out how to save whatever was left of himself. Or rather whatever he identified himself as. For the entire series of events starting after his seemingly innocent Pokemon journey appeared to be forcing him to recount who he was and establish an identity. The trial in this was none other than its own simplicity; he was exactly who he considered himself to be. He was Mister Chris Feyera who used the pseudonym "Edge" to protect his identity. The nickname stuck innocently enough; Feyera was used to things sticking to him. But a simple name did not actually change him, did it?
He clenched a fist and pulled on some of the nearby grass, which had fully regained its rich green color. If his original identity were to be preserved, it mandated that he determine how to undo the Mercury Relic's curse. Was it even a curse? Of course it was, he told himself as he yanked on the plants reveling their shallow roots. However, the creeping anxiety came from the fact that such a curse had allowed for whatever happened between himself and Sanaria to take place. Few people would call a sensation like that a curse. Yet Feyera would; he had to for his own sanity's sake.
"—I don't know veh Feyera." Sana made a soft growl as she watched him play with the earth.
"—It's—" he started to say, but soon closed his mouth. Whilst streamlining his response, he observed the retreating Gardevoir with yearning eyes. She backed off, gliding on her rail thin legs sheathed in tight fabric of purest white. The way she floated from step to step, uninhibited by gravity made each bound look like she were about to take flight. Every movement was beyond graceful; she was overflowing with elegance. Such elegance could never be his.
He was happy to see the feedback fall's pressure had worn off on her. Feyera was feeling better too. The air felt less dense. All the colors had returned to normal. He knew a priori that he could actually support himself should he decide to get up. For without even budging a muscle, seeing Sana effortlessly raise herself up meant the feedback fall was over. Even with all of the negative repercussions of the emotion-filled feedback fall, Edge had a side that was thankful for that kiss they shared because of falling. It had made him happy. It was pleasurable. Such affection had never occurred before in his life.
His life had been unwillingly divided into two sections: before and after Semblance. Both were lacking in any physical contact with a member of the other sex. Pre Semblance, he'd always been busy with research with Evercrest and university work, and after the Sanctum Robbery, he had occupied himself with attempting to remember who he was rather than try and pursue a relationship. How would he have even gone about trying to start a relationship?
The thought of the endeavor was preposterous. He was a broken man. A shell completely stripped of his research knowledge, drained of what made him important by amnesia. Vacated of whatever lead him to write "Concerning the Paranormal" he was just an average man. Devoid of all professional intellect and needlessly frightened of being attacked by Pokemon, he had to work at Alex Prevoy's Coffeehouse.
Of course, he could fool people he hadn't known long, like Lorelei and Oak, into thinking he remembered his Pokemon research, but it never lasted very long. Eventually it would become apparent that what little memory he had left did not grant anyone the necessary confidence in his own ability to recollect data he supposedly wrote. In fact, it made it appear as if he had stolen Chris Feyera's dissertation and assumed the hardworking researcher's identity. It was awful to have so much taken away from you when you considered yourself an esteemed academic. It castrated him. Insecurity imprisoned him. He blamed Sana for doing it, she should have known better. But then again, he should have never joined the Evercrest program.
Edge shook his head and gazed over at the pale seashell buds to the left of where he sat. There had never been a moment like this one in Feyera's life before. Whether she was a Pokemon or not became secondary to the fact that she was his first kiss.
It was a desire filled kiss too. All the times he had wanted to be with a woman, or lusted over a woman, culminated in the few seconds of ephemeral bliss. That spur of the moment decision made his world become lighter for a few moments. And it served as a vent for all of his newly emerging emotion which he so desperately sought to be rid of. To be perfectly accurate, it was a pure outlet of impure intention. Sanaria became his outlet, fulfilling that role flawlessly simply by receiving.
"I'm bearing emotion," he said dryly and as apathetically as he could muster.
She gave a lighthearted laugh. "That's obvious. Anyone can see that."
"Humph." Feyera rocked on his bottom by bringing his knees to his chest.
The truth of it was whether he liked it or not, Feyera had emotions. He hated them, but they were here and very possessive until he could undo whatever the Reilken Mercurius had done to him: initially and over time. If he did not do something with them, they would eat at him from the inside. Meltdowns, loss of control, even feedback falls were not out of the question. This naturally occurring self-destruction fed into his own self-doubt as a person. Ironically, it showed him just how powerless he was with power. Only when highly emotional did he ever ask the questions, "How can I undo this? When will I be able to become normal again?" or worse, "Is it even possible to undo?" For emotions forced him to question himself and his abilities, much to his self-assured side's displeasure. They carried him on a chariot to lofty, emotional, angst-ridden heights.
The other facet to the cause for such affection was Sana's own availability. She had made it very clear to him that she liked him. Or at least what he had to offer. Since he did have a Gardevoir shard embedded into his torso, it was obviously his most valuable asset when dealing with her. It saved him from her wrath after Semblance and provided ways for her to communicate with him through LDT.
Scratching his head, he wondered if Gardevoir shards even varied from Gardevoir to Gardevoir. They couldn't all be the same. Maybe they were like human fingerprints. Although how they could be with such polished exteriors puzzled him greatly. It wasn't like there were discernible details or etchings on their surface. He had spent enough hours of his own time looking at his own piece of "shrapnel" to figure that out. Maybe the individual details were microscopic.
He brought his eyes to her chest and stared at the piece, something he wouldn't be caught dead doing to a human woman. He told himself that he didn't see her that way so it didn't matter. It wasn't like she had large breasts either. The two small mounds split by the protrusion made him think of a rather poorly endowed woman. Definitely feminine, just not over the top by any means with that flat of a chest. Still at this point, comparisons were completely subjective; Edge knew nothing about what made Gardevoir attractive. Their society remained an enigma. Yet they had some human elements to them, or at least Sanaria did. His burrowing thoughts paused for a moment. Why was he even trying to make such connections? It shocked him. He made a face and Sanaria tilted her head in response to seeing him grimace.
Feyera told himself that he was only trying to figure out the similarities to rationalize why he felt comfortable kissing her. She raised her hand slightly blocking his view of the red metal and melodically stroked her hair back, tucking it behind her ear; arching her narrow neck back as she did so. Sana's and his own horn were exactly alike. Same color, same texture, same shape. It was like looking into a mirror and the longer he stared, the more mystified he became. She turned slightly, perhaps disturbed by his seemingly vacant face ogling her, and Feyera managed to avoid a disapproving glare in response to staring.
If he could manage to juggle the commandeering emotions with Sana's obvious interest in his own offerings—being derived from Seph—for a little while then why not give it a shot? They canceled each other out. And besides, it wasn't like anyone knew what went on between the two of them here on this relatively uninhabited island. Once again Edge was mildly fantasizing, the prospect of being somehow able to actually kiss someone else made his mind drive in far too many directions for him to possibly count. Doors had opened and light shone in through every orifice.
He shook his head as she crossed her legs and placed a hand against her hip. She gazed past him at the mountains in the distance. He didn't care about the mountains though, or anything else on this island. There was obsession and then there was this. He just had to figure it out; dissect it.
Throughout his adolescence and young adulthood, Feyera imagined doing what he did with her, women such as Lorelei unquestionably attracted him, but never before actually had enough emotion to "pull the trigger" as they say. Or perhaps he never had enough emotion to allow himself to even get to that stage. Sana was different though. And not only because she was a Gardevoir. It was seemingly so easy for him to do in the moment's passion. Impulsively he allowed desire to manifest in the way that it did. It was all a blur from the first time they had shared a kiss to now where he had to actually step back and face what happened. Little did he know, but Sana was also undergoing a very similar form of introspection. Tragically, neither of them could bring it up though.
Fighting off the gratuitous embarrassment that came with realizing his first kiss was with a Pokemon—and that he hadn't had a kiss in twenty years of life—he told himself once more that it was because of the circumstances he had been put into. The shard on his chest gave him a lot of unusual quirks, this was one of them for sure. There wasn't a chance that he would have done this—that he could have done any of this—if Reilken Mercurius hadn't seamlessly grafted over one or two of Sephiteos' features. Did desire transfer over as well? That didn't make sense, he still had his mind. But then what about the addition of psyonics? Feyera felt dizzy.
"Like I said, we'll see what the future holds, why don't we just—" he made a face like he had just eaten a tart lemon "—keep this between us?"
In a way, what they shared was a darker secret than his psyonics. Or how he got them. Or what he did with them. Or anything he had ever experienced really.
"I'm not going to promise you anything unless you tell me it will be like it was. The way I had wished for," she sighed. "I need permanency. More than you can imagine."
"Fine, look why did you have to get up like that?" he asked her in confusion. Just her moving away from him seemed like an insult in his amplified emotional state. For even though he had less than a fraction of what most Gardevoir had for emotional perception, it was still far greater than any amount a human. At times, it was unbearable enough to force him to collapse, such as the times when he became sentimental.
The feelings, the sensations, even the insight could probably trump an artist's emotion. He felt as if no person would be able to ward off a Gardevoir's frivolous ambitions indefinably. Especially a science-minded man. They were too numerable, too influential. And as far as Feyera knew, Gardevoir emotions were expansionists by nature. Ever growing, they were like a runaway train. They had conquered him in more ways than one. Their most recent procurement was making him actually kiss her. It was an action like any other, and Edge predictably refused to take responsibility for its consequences.
"I don't know any more. Veh Feyera, I just don't—can't know. I can't know with you," her restrained voice said. Was she also trying to come to terms what he had done? He wondered why she was so distraught. It was worse for him to have been kissing a Pokemon than for her to be kissing a human after all. He could be thrown in jail or worse. His mind quickly shifted gears before recounting the horror stories of Pokemon abuse. It was nerve racking and he'd rather be dead than caught for the charges of 'molesting Pokemon'.
"Yeah well get off your high horse and join the club. Does it look like I know?" Feyera retorted in anguish. Confused, his rational side wished he could take kissing back nearly as much as his impulsive side had wished for it to have happened in the heat of the moment. But time had made the action infamous, engraved in both their minds.
And now that it was written into their individual histories in permanent ink, it had done exactly what happens to all things, specifically it—the sensations, the uncontrollable desires, the irrationality—had passed leaving room for reflection. Everything that had happened became much more real and pronounced in the absence of a distraction. In essence, by removing their contact with one another they were forced to come to terms with why there was even such an encounter in the first place. This was especially troublesome for Feyera, who could not seem to be able to wrap his head around the occurrences. He wasn't who she thought he was. And yet he shamelessly used that to deceive her. Why? Was his desire for a kiss worth such deception? What did that say about him? He hated the introspection.
"You should know. I trusted you. I trusted—trusted your intentions."
"You trusted me?" he asked pretending to be shocked. Of course, she trusted him. She trusted him enough to kiss the lips of a man who murdered her mate. Feyera tortured, tormented, and eventually slaughtered Sephiteos. Sana was trusting enough to kiss him back. If that wasn't crazy what was?
"I did. Didn't you feel my trust?" she asked childishly.
Feyera nodded his head. "Yeah it's not a big secret Sana."
"In your heart I meant."
Edge rolled his eyes, "Here you go again with hearts. It's anatomy Sana, an organ relays to the brain."
But she dismissed his rebuke by ignoring it altogether. She seemed to be in deep concentration. "I don't know if you are what I wished for."
"It wasn't a wish, will you please cut that out?" he said through closed teeth.
She rocked her head back and forth wondering if he was getting used to being in permanent denial. It seemed like he was making so much progress to her, and now for him to have finally shown affection made her squirm with anticipation. With whom was she sharing contact? He eyes fastened onto his face, then traveled down to his chest. "It was…what it was."
Edge straightened his posture. "If it was a wish then—" but he trailed off. What was he trying to say? He didn't believe in genies, djinn, or even 'Jynx' for that matter.
"Then what?" Sanaria asked him. "It wouldn't make sense?" she asked sarcastically. He of all people should know that what happened to him didn't make any sense.
"Nothing makes sense." Feyera was talking about more than just the Gardevoir's 'wish'. The whole coming into affectionate contact with a Pokemon defied everything he knew as normal. It just felt so wrong and right, pulling at two parts of him.
"I told you that you'd acclimate," she said, once again trying to allude to a dormant being within him. "Believe that you can and you will."
Edge thought about her words. Maybe there was some truth in mind over matter. That was exactly the problem though. As a painter or poet could possibly acclimate to the heightened emotional constitution due to coming from walks in life where such emotion made itself present. Having emotion for Chris Feyera was like giving him another set of limbs. A set of very uncooperative limbs.
"Acclimate? You want me to acclimate?" Feyera asked. "How in God's name can I acclimate?"
"God?" she asked puzzled.
He felt silly saying 'God'; God was a man Edge had lost faith in long ago, but that was a different issue entirely. How he hated how her words brought out the strangest things. "What do you even mean by acclimate?" Of course, Edge was referring to her forcing something down his throat that he didn't want, rather than her attempting to address Sephiteos.
"Acclimate to your new bod—I mean life. Seph—"
"New life?" It simply was not true. There was no Sephiteos inside of him other than the Gardevoir horn. He knew better than she did in this regard. The shard didn't talk to him. It didn't command what he did. He didn't have two identities as far as he knew. He had one life that took another's and seemingly absorbed its physical qualities.
"I thought that what happened between us would have helped you," she said swallowing.
"Yeah so why did you stop?" Feyera asked in curiosity.
"Because I'm tired of this. It isn't working," she said flustered.
Sanaria was behaving strangely. Ever since she had shared her first kiss with Edge, it was a matter of trying to make things as they once were. For a while, it seemed to be working gradually in her favor, but she had recently come across a wall. Chris Feyera's wall. He was the wall. Needless to say, she wanted to dismantle it swiftly and proceed to further 'uncover' Sephiteos. What led her to believe this was possible in the first place occurred immediately after she discovered Feyera on the beach below this Island's cliff. That was the first sign that Seph was trapped inside of a different body. Then once Feyera began employing Seph's psyonics and she felt it through latent LDT, it became obvious. For her it was a game of cat and mouse. Alluring at first, for the charm was the challenge, but at this point, she was unsure of just how deeply embedded Seph was in the man who had killed and assimilated him.
"Why Sana?" he asked, trying to pry out the real reason for her hesitation to be close with him. It was almost as if she'd grown tired of being with him suddenly. Something was definitely on her mind. "Were you trying to deceiving me? Again! Why is this happening? What is not working?"
"Everything," she replied, still locked in contemplation.
"It was for a little while," Feyera felt the cold chill of potentially losing this newly found vent for his emotions. "Why won't you—?"
She cut him off, "Because I'm not going just allow you to try and take advantage of the—situation."
"What 'situation' am I taking advantage of?" he asked in confusion. His situation seemed to be hardly exploitable. She was coming onto him after all. Not that he ever had any actual experience with women before. Nevertheless, he knew how to tell. There were behavioral patterns. Dependency in the most elementary of forms of attraction, observable through anxiety and desire. At least this was true for humans. But then again he had been duped by Lorelei's flirtation with him back in Pallet.
"It isn't a situation you've found yourself in before?" the Gardevoir asked him, referring to their kiss.
Stupid, he thought reminiscing how he had fallen for the wine red haired woman. She made him feel like she wanted him. How could he have been so shallow minded? Was it a lack of experience? There was something that she did to him while they were talking that gave him the 'sparks and fireworks' as they say. It could have been simply something she said giving him praise. Or it could have been her sustained interest in whatever stupid nonsense he was spewing out. He didn't care, her body reflected something. Moreover, he wanted her body to have reflected interest in him. And yet he'd been fooled; played like a fiddle. Feyera was always being manipulated. Even with everything he knew about principle psychology and he couldn't use it to harm a fly. Whatever he knew about women or people in general neglected to give him any field experience. It was just academic psychology after all. He had no clue what actually went on in their heads, and his psyonics could only penetrate so deep before he himself became invested into the other entity's emotional state.
"A situation? This?" Edge asked motioning to his chest.
"Everything," she said with conviction.
"Everything?" he repeated slowly.
Sana nodded.
"Well if that is the case then you'll need to be a nice Gardevoir and explain it to me." He nodded gradually. "Piece by piece," Edge said for good measure.
She twisted her lips, unwilling to answer the invisible taunt. "You know what it is you're trying to do."
"What? Replace Seph?" he volleyed at her upright body. She gave a perplexing glare that just reeked of being forced. Bingo! he thought. Hit the nail on the head. "That's what you are trying to do. Isn't it?"
"Don't make me laugh." Sana coiled her arms around her shoulders and twirled slightly, making her short skirt billow. As far as he could tell, she had a similar concept of clothing to people. The way it adhered to form fit to her slim body made it appear as if it were attached to her. But when she spun even a little or shifted her posture, the white silken fabric would waft, expanding in the breeze, contradicting the preconceived notion of it being a part of her anatomy.
"I'm not trying to," Feyera languidly said, "I'm stating the things I know to be true based on what I study; I'm awfully good at it—you should try it sometime."
"I—I don't need your empirical methods." She straightened her back. "You have to experience things for them to be true."
"Wrong! Knowledge begins with experience, it does not follow that it arises from experience," Feyera said smiling at his own wit.
She grappled against a nearby tree's crusty bark as she backed off from Edge who was still resting on the ground. He was so obstinate. That was the problem. She didn't know how to fully fix the problem of his intransigent nature. The young Gardevoir sighed; she would have to be creative to a degree. "You're doing it wrong then."
He sat up, happy to find how simplistic it was to respond to her. "What am I doing wrong exactly Sana?"
She rocked her head and played with her hand, rotating the slender wrist in a semi-circle.
"I don't have everything figured out, but the things I do know are valid," he said to her.
"You are still looking at things through eyes that should have closed years ago," she said tapping her fingers on the small palm tree's bark.
"Are you calling me childish again?"
"No." She wasn't trying to refer to him as a Ralts or even a human child for that matter. She was talking about to the aftereffects of Semblance and Seph's essence. "I'm calling you stubborn and unwilling to change."
He sighed. "Listen, I'm not going to change just because I have a few temporary additions spouting out of my chest."
"Doesn't it make you change though?" the Gardevoir asked quietly. "Hasn't it made you change over time?"
"I—not like—"
"I know your life has changed since it happened. You know it too. The way you see things…the ways that you see things. Colors, emotions, desires…"
Feyera shook his head. He knew that it had. If he denied that then he would have to admit that he would have kissed Sana regardless of having a Gardevoir horn of his own. Once again, her unsharpened tongue was filled with unprecedented cleverness. She was the opposite of him in that regard; Edge always sought to display his sense of truth blaring trumpets at its presence, whereas Sana seemingly slipped it into delicate words akin to a Trojan Horse. The stark contrast was always building tension between them. Like an active volcano, such tension perpetually searched for an escape.
"I never got a rulebook along with my extended life membership," Edge said expressing discouragement.
"Do you really see life that way? As a membership?" she tried to pronounce 'membership' but it came out sounding just wrong. Like 'meanbarship'.
Feyera stated to laugh. "Hahaha!"
"What's so funny?" she asked with concern.
He decided not to tell her about the butchered pronunciation. He still saw it as cute. "Think about it. What on earth do you ever sign up for? No one asks to be born. Life's a process Sana. You have to understand that we're only here temporarily."
"So you learn to cherish it. Since usually you only have one chance."
"We all die sooner or later though. People sometimes say about life: 'No one gets out alive!' Ha ha. That means you gotta take what you can get to a certain degree."
Sana's eyes widened, "Take what you can? From who?"
"I don't know. Just in general. Take out of life. It's a messed up world." Edge looked at her garment's frilled edges and remembered how she was trying to salvage her relationship with Sephiteos through him. He raised a brow, "What you aren't an opportunist?"
"N—no it isn't that." She stammered, "W—What you are saying and what you are implying are two very different things."
"I'll tell you what you don't sign up for: a filthy frickin' metal horn sticking out of your chest."
"Don't call it that," she sternly ordered.
"What would you call it? 'Veh Feyera'?" he asked her.
"No. It's not bad." Sana clutched her own shard with both her hands. "It isn't filthy…it's—it's beautiful."
"Well maybe to your species as a Gardevoir, but for a human, it's awfully inconvenient. Do you know how many times I've gotten caught in my clothes because of it?" Edge said in irritation. "Far too often. I have to ruin fabric by cuttin' holes in my clothes and wear button ups so it can stick out."
"How it looks is not how it wor—"
"Oh wait, I'm not even there yet, hold on just a minute now Sanaria, don't get ahead now!" Edge said raising a hand signaling 'stop'.
"First, let's talk about all the people who think I'm a nutter for wearing it, you know how many sob stories I have to tell a day? I get creative: sometimes it's a battle scar, other times an amulet, and I've even tried to once say that it was a new type of fashionable tie! Haha!"
Sana shook her head, when he got like this nothing was nice. His emotions were far too concentrated since he kept them under lock and key for such long periods of time. "You need to not vent so viole—"
"Hold on! Oh wait there is so much more, being on the run for possessing psyonics, creating gravity wells left and right that slowly destroy my body, oh even siphoning my Pokemon slowly into a state of helplessness!"
"That's your fault not your heart's—" she stopped suddenly, realizing what she had said. The Gardevoir gasped and put both her hands over her tiny mouth. "Eep."
Smiling at the delicate cord he'd inadvertently struck, Edge grinned manically, "But it's here. It's mine isn't it? My 'heart'; all mine." He brought a hand up to where the piece joined with his pale flesh, first touching the metal, then slipping a finger beneath his shirt's buttoned lip where a tie would normally rest. A delicate stroke gracing both human and Gardevoir anatomy made his mind quiver. The way it seamlessly adjoined to his body—not as an invader, but from within—caused a maddening tingle to rocket throughout him. It had never felt this way before.
Sanaria, seeing him do this to himself, became extremely irritated. "It wasn't yours to take—" Sana clenched two fists "—it never was!"
Hearing his own words come from her petite mouth satisfied him. Here she was confirming that Feyera was in fact different from her mate. So long as she knew he was Chris Feyera, he could live with the rebuke. But maybe not that sudden rush of pleasure he had just felt.
Pausing, he lowered his hand, grimacing. How was he able to do that? Why did he feel that way when he touched it? The sensation really frightened him. He felt like what he was doing was very off. His hands still shook from an unprecedented rush of blood to his extremities. "I—I know."
"Stop trying to pretend you have a right to things you don't, give it back over to who it belongs to."
"Who? You? You want this back? Take it; I'd love to be rid of it Sana! That's what I want; we're on the same page!"
But that is not what Sana had meant by 'giving it back'. "You—you can't be rid of it," she said as if it were some kind of disease. "It doesn't work like that."
"Oh but I will be. Don't you worry. I will undo it," he motioned to his black armlet. The glowing green pattern on it had dissipated over time. Was it running out of power? Did the ancient artifact even use power? Was it sapping his own power?
"You are uncertain; I can tell." She said, trying to force back a smile. "I've been uncertain too. I know the signs."
"Not uncertain, just planning my next move." Edge craggily said, "I have so many options."
He didn't. The only option would be Fredrick.
"How do you plan for something that gives you no recourse? It would be like me trying to say that I don't want to have my green hair."
"You can always change attributes about yourself," Feyera retorted. "You can dye your hair if you really wanted to. It isn't stuck like that."
"Dye hair?" Her eyes widened.
"Yeah, change its color. It isn't a transplant so it would still be—" Edge paused to remember what it felt like against his nose. The aroma and the texture all came flooding back to him just by this tiny exercise of recollection. "—still be yours."
"What color would I make it?"
"Well you can make it any color really," Feyera said uncertain of whether or not Gardevoir hair was like human hair. He'd never been close enough to a girl's hair to find out what he found out about Sana's, however it seemed close enough to his own hair. "You bleach the hair with a peroxide and then use dye to impose a new color on it."
"You can force a new color onto it? Onto the hair?" she asked mystified.
"Mhmm. It's an easy procedure. You take the original color out then put a new one onto it."
"What is it called in between?" Sana asked.
"What do you mean?" he grumbled.
"Like before it is the new color but after it is no longer the old color."
"Nothing, there is no name for the transition period. It is just not complete."
The Gardevoir smiled. "Incomplete?" she said aloud this time nailing the correct word.
Whenever she spoke aloud like that, he would recoil. It was her same telepathic voice, just her lips would move and it would echo in his ears rather than be relayed once. "Yeah…not finished. It would be white and able to absorb what you put onto it."
"But white is a color."
"Yeah but it is light enough to absorb other colors. Besides white hair means you're old!" he said thinking about his aunt's silvery aging hair.
She padded her milky green hair. "How do you change the colors, can emotions change them?"
"Ha, emotions changing colors?" He shook his head. Sure Gardevoir could see emotion, and it usually came across as a color. But it wasn't ever permanent. The longest emotional colors remained for him was during the feedback fall they shared.
"Yeah like if you are angry would you have bright crimson hair?"
"The colors we see are simply a degree of how much of this color present in light is reflected," Edge muttered. "To be completely accurate, a color reflects the wavelengths in the nanometer range that retinal cones in the eye respond to. The medium is the process of reflection of the wavelength of the color. The receiver is our eyes which receive the wavelength of the color and tell the brain what the wavelength of reflected light is."
She didn't seem to care much for his explanation, and instead focused on implications, comparing Feyera to a blank slate of sorts just like bleached hair. "So you can actually pick the color that you want to see?"
He had no clue why this was so important for her, but rationalized it as just interest in human culture. Edge knew the anthropological inquiry of their different cultures was not mutual; he could care less what Gardevoir society valued. Still, he saw there was little harm in exposing his own culture to her.
"Sure, you could even have the same color hair as me if you really wanted to!" Feyera said brushing his auburn hair and twirling it about his index finger. He imagined Sana with a similar shade of hair to his own and chuckled at the thought. What a silly musing, a Gardevoir with light golden-brown hair.
"So that means humans can change their body?"
Feyera shrugged. "I guess. People undergo cosmetic changes. Sometimes even surgery in order to get the right look. It just becomes exponentially difficult the larger the desired result is."
"Well maybe—"
Assuming what she would suggest, Feyera interjected, "Tried getting this thing removed before. They wouldn't do it." He'd been tempted to have surgery remove the Gardevoir horn before, it was just not feasible for whatever reason. Possibly due to the deep conjoinment or the strangeness of his case.
"Stuck?" she murmured aloud.
"For now," he answered, not flinching as much this time.
"You understand what it is like to have it as a part of you though."
"That's not completely true. I shouldn't have to understand this. I wasn't meant to."
"What if it is forever? Will you continue to try and remove it?"
"Nothing is forever Sana. There isn't a single thing on this planet that is forever," Edge said with a scowl.
"But if it is then—"
"Trust me. I know best, there's never a dull moment in my life. Ah well…as they say, 'No rest for the wicked.'"
"You are okay with that?" she asked. Her jaw dropped. "You're fine with being 'wicked'?"
Feyera thought about the few Pokemon and people he had grown to care for. Was it all about utility? "It is a saying, but it contains a degree of truth. I might not be wicked—"
"Not anymore," she whispered.
"—but I'm a human being first and foremost."
"…no…" the Gardevoir said mutely to herself.
"A persistent one too!" Edge rolled his shoulder. "And I don't know how it works for Gardevoir but 'kissing' gives humans various degrees of pleasure."
"You say you know about pleasure? What is pleasure for a human? What you did?" Sana really didn't need to ask him any of those questions since she knew all of their answers. He kissed her because he found it pleasurable. His pleasure made it pleasurable for her. She was riding on his surge of emotion. She believed that acute bursts of emotion would serve to somehow further unleash Sephiteos from assumed imprisonment. Edge's explanation of the way hair dye worked seemed to further her theory.
"Pleasure," Feyera said with a dry smile, eager to define it. "To be pleased by the circumstances. Activation of chemicals known as endorphins. Why do you think certain things give us states of euphoria? The body likes it."
"Likes it?" she asked.
"Yeah, quit acting like this is weird. I know you like how the Gardevoir horn feels for instance," Edge said. "You've made that obvious! Heck, even me—'an unperceptive person'—felt its surge of endorphin."
Sana shook her head and her hair wobbled back and forth. "You don't know love. You proved that to me when you said that nothing lasts forever. Love is forever."
"Ha, love?" he said with a scoff. "It's a pleasure principle. Things feel good, motivating the organism to recreate similar future situations. Gardevoir can have pleasure; your species' horn is proof of it!"
"That—" she gasped "—is the furthest thing from love."
"How can you be sure," he said jaggedly, "you repeated what you—your body—had just found pleasurable didn't you?"
"I—" she gasped.
"Now I might not be a neuroscientist, but you definitely were not opposed to the idea. You didn't stop me. Hell, you pretty much initiated."
"What you're doing wrong—," she paused and looked left and right at the rich jade tropical scenery, "—is you are trying to fill a void…with the wrong things."
"That's what you wanted isn't it? I don't get you." Edge shook his head, "One minute you're snoggling and the next you're trying to say I'm wrong because I found that enjoyable? Pleasure is pleasure, Sana."
"It is not! Chris veh Feyera, you shouldn't be finding it enjoyable. You're not Seph."
"Of course I'm not Sephiteos. I'll never be Seph. You're wrong to think in those terms; it makes you sound desperate." Edge let out a groan, still very uncomfortable with himself in general. He ached all over at times, and his muscles frequently grew sore. At least his eyes were not in pain. Although thinking about his eyes made them sting. Must have been mind over matter.
"I'm not desperate," she said unconvincingly.
"He's gone," Feyera said. To be honest, he was unsure of how true such a statement was. The memories were there. Seph's memories were awakened somehow. Maybe it was a part of the instancing's aftereffects, but it seemed to be more probable that by bearing a few of the Gardevoir's traits, Feyera was somehow able to absorb memories. He wasn't sure which was worse: the haloed eyes or knowing where they came from. Sadly, the similarities didn't even end with Progenitor, nor did they begin with the grafted Dark type virus. First the initial emergence of the creature's shard, then the eyes after using psyonics, shortly after the memories became apparent through Hypnosis, what was next for him?
She closed her eyes tightly. "Do you think even for a split second you can empathize with how hard it's been for me to track you down, get you to come back to this awful island, and find that you hate Seph? Yourself—hating yourself?"
"You should know better, I'm not him. No matter what I'll never be him. I appreciate you saving my life, but you only saved me, Chris Feyera."
"I—you have his heart. You have to be—deep down—" Sana said stammering.
"You don't get it. It's not your body playing host to this foreign piece," he said looking down. Maybe it was the reason why he had kissed her. Did Gardevoir even kiss one another? "Rather it is a collection of events that brought me here and now I'm only doing the best with what I got."
"So now I'm just, 'what you got' Mister Feyera?"
"Well you seemed to be open enough to the idea of kissing. I never thought you'd be so good at something so distinctively human."
"I don't believe you! You're nothing more than a pig!"
"Hey easy now, I'm a pig with feeeeeeeeeelings now right?" Edge snidely said.
"Y—you're disgusting me! Feelings aren't given to pigs. Not even Grumpigs. They shouldn't have feelings."
Feyera gave her a leer, "Aw think about all the lil' piggies out there that you are demeaning Sana. They wouldn't take kindly to your insults."
"You cannot demean something if it doesn't have feelings to hurt. They wouldn't care, their ugly, stinky, fat snouts are always buried in the dirt, sloshing around for grubby worm-infested filth. Euuuudghh!" she made a face like she had just smelled a nose bending odor. "I hate it."
"So that would be your worst nightmare? Haha," Edge chuckled to himself. He took mental notes, was her distaste due to being unable to command their emotions since they had none? It made sense. "No feelings; not a chance for an emotion dependant Gardevoir."
"I—I'm not afraid of them. They make me sick," she said twisting her mouth and making a pout.
Feyera laughed at her childish response. No reason, no logic, pure unadulterated emotion. He had no clue why she hated pigs. Perhaps it was a simple as an aversion to ugliness. There was no use trying to flesh out why she despised the creatures. Edge could not unearth a deep philosophical reason as far as he could tell. Feyera did like it when he found gems like these buried in her language, it gave him the upper hand since he could play off her irrationality. "You'd be powerless I'd imagine."
"It wouldn't be as bad as facing a Dark Type Pokemon," she said shivering.
Edge ignored the baggage of her past completely; a trait that came in handy at times but also could be beyond debilitating. "A Gardevoir fighting a pig, or a Grumpig for that matter!" He mused the thought over and over in his mind, "What would you do anyway? Try and make the pig feel bad about being a pig? What would you say: 'You are a filthy earthly creature, unable to use its hind legs, stargaze, and have emotions!'? That's just mean; they're pigs. Chubby little suidaes without anything else to do in their lives but be a pig!"
"They're repulsive veh Feyera, I don't understand your obsession over them. I wasn't meaning to compliment you by calling you a pig."
"You had me fooled," Feyera said rolling his eyes sarcastically. "Speaking of pigs though… Have you ever had bacon?"
"Ba—bacon?" she asked aloud. "What is that exactly?"
"Oh it's cured pig meat! Delicious in the morning with some eggs," Feyera said smiling. He hadn't had a good breakfast in such a long time. He missed out on the complimentary hotel one before challenging the Fuschia City Pokemon Gym since he was sick. Come to think of it, Seph's shard had been the one to make him nauseous. Of all the rotten luck. He didn't even know when he'd find a decent place to eat again. Ever since Chris' Pokemon journey began, it had been only granola bars and protein blends for sustenance. Flavorless yes, but all a body needed. At least they went down easy. Although swallowing the same thing over and over became a bit of a chore as of recently.
Sana's small jaw dropped, "You eat pigs?" She shrieked in disgust.
He swallowed and his saliva coated his esophagus. Come to think of it, swallowing in general hurt more than he was used to. "Yup! The juuuuuuicy—mmmmm—succulent fatty parts toooooooo!" Feyera said trying to make it sound as disturbing as he possibly could, exaggerating every vowel beyond measure. She may have tried to attach him to Gardevoir culture, but by hell, he was going to try to make it seem like his world came along no matter what endeavors she took to stomp it out of him.
"Ewww. Stop talking veh Feyera. That's vile."
"Delicious." He even attempted to make a slurping noise but to little avail with a dry mouth. It wasn't necessary, he was already going overboard. With a wink, he looked over at the Gardevoir.
Sana looked like she was going to faint. The expression of horror she wore on her face was absolutely unrivaled. She frantically shifted her eyes under her light mint green bangs. They darted about in a multitude of directions. Eventually she pulled her hands to her mouth and gasped. Were those lips she'd touched, Chris Feyera's, were they also the same lips that relished in eating pig's flesh?
"I think—I think I'm going to be ill…" she said holding her tummy.
"Speaking of such FINE delicacies, I'm hungry. I—" he felt his flat stomach below his shard, "—I haven't eaten in a while."
She gazed at him from a few paces away and turned her head on the side, "Oh you're hungry? After talking about something that morbid?"
"Ummm…yeah. I really am. Not going to lie. It was really appetizing." A half truth. Chris never gorged himself, he just enjoyed a hearty meal every once in a while. It showed in his figure. Or maybe that was just Sephiteos. He wasn't positive but based on pictures of his younger self he'd always been on the leaner side. Now however it was slightly exaggerated. He was just bones and narrow undefined muscle.
"Well then, why don't you go fetch some food and be useful?" Sana said tightening her gaze on his face. "You'll be pleasantly surprised to find how much fun foraging for real food is."
"Real food? On this island?" Feyera thought about how difficult that might be. Then again, Sana had stayed here for God knows how long. She could probably tell him exactly what he needed to get. "Where do I go to do that?"
"Use that head of yours and figure it out."
"I'm not going to go around trying toadstools and leaves if that's what you think. I don't want to be poisoned."
"Yes, it would be like a growi—I mean learning experience," she said teasingly. "You might even find a wild boar if you're lucky."
"What are you going to do, just stay here? What happened to 'whatever you're a part of I'll be a part of too?'" he asked mocking her.
She blushed to his pleasure, "I—I got caught up in the moment. I was thinking of you as someone—I remember—someone you happen to vehemently deny."
"Whatever, ugh," he said getting up, "God that was difficult." As he rose up, everything slowly wobbled in his visual range, making him feel dizzy. His body had very little stability whenever he first stood up. Edge wondered if he were still under the influence of the feedback fall's awful repercussions. He outstretched both his arms in an effort to maintain balance. "I got this though," he said assuredly.
Sana continued to stare at him, uncertain of what to make of the situation. Then she rolled her heavy lidded eyes in distaste. At times he was full of charm and brimming potential and at other times he was base overflowing with conceit. How she wished pulling out the attributes of Sephiteos would be easier. A little affectionate interaction here and there did not seem to be doing any favors. She laughed to herself. It was probably a remarkable experience for Feyera, but he had no idea. To her, he was just the unwilling host her beloved was trapped within. To stir the emotions and further push Seph outwards would be difficult now that Feyera had constructed a wall of sorts by proclaiming he would not accept assimilation.
"What's so funny?" Edge asked.
"You," she said gritting her teeth.
"Me?" Edge wondered. Maybe he had gone a little over the top with pigs.
"Yes. You're funny sometimes."
"Well I think you're acting funny."
She shook her head. "I think you should stop playing little Ralts feedback games and go fetch us some food Mister Feyera."
"Ralts feedback games?"
"Child's play." She said rather unenthusiastically. "Where one child says, 'you're silly' and then the other one says 'no you're silly'. While a game, it does serve a purpose by teaching them the dangers of feedback falls."
"That sounds like children to me," Feyera said. He never really liked children. It sounded mean but it was true. They were always yelling, screaming, and crazy. An absolute nightmare for anyone serious about scholarly work. Truly disruptive. "God help the people who take care of those rascals."
"He he. Yes, children seem to be very similar in both our cultures. That's a good point of transitioning, wouldn't you say?"
"I don't want you treating me like a child though Sana!" Feyera exclaimed, unaware of what she meant exactly by 'transitioning'.
"Why would I do that? You are such a big adult," she lampooned. "Now prove it by showing me you can go out and get your own food."
"Humph fine. You coming with?" Feyera asked somewhat longing for her.
Sana stretched her arms towards the afternoon sky. The colors of the environment had returned to normal, and were brilliant. "I think you should go on your own."
"Alright fine then. If that's what you want," despite his façade of tolerance, Feyera did feel a little vacant now that she was pulling away from him. "How about you tell me what you want to eat?"
"Feyera, does this look like a human city to you? We're in the wilderness; try and be resourceful. Think like a G—"
"Forget it; I don't want your help." Edge angrily retorted. If she didn't want to come with him she didn't have to, he told himself. He wasn't desperate. He wasn't like her. He refused to be like her. "Listen, I'll be back no later than sunset."
"You don't want to stay out later than that," she smirked.
"Why? Ghosts gonna come after me?" he asked feeling sort of adamant in the same way Jill used to be when confronting all things supernatural. Poor Jill, he thought.
"No—" she pausedand looked over her shoulder at the dense tropical forest "—just don't."
"I told you, I don't need your help Sana. Sheesh, just wanted company. I lived out in the wilderness before."
"When?" she asked.
"On my Pokemon journey around Kanto. What did you think; I slept in the Delcatty Suites every night of the week?"
"Ha, Delcatty? That's a Pokemon veh Feyera, you can't sleep in a Pokemon—"
Feyera moaned, "It was a joke Sana; Delcatty like dainty things I was eluding to their high maintenance by naming a fictional hotel after them. Sheesh."
"I get it, you don't need to explain your human ways of expression to me like that," she replied quickly. Deep down she did like it when he did though. Especially when he did it with a smile. She liked seeing him try to attach to her. It was one of those things that reminded her of Seph. He had come from a very different part of the Gardevoir hierarchy after all. He was always explaining things to her, giving her witty expressions to use while they lived in the somewhat dysfunctional Pokemon community.
"Oh okay then…" Edge mumbled.
"I don't care where you slept when you were doing your little errands around on the mainland."
"Some of those errands involved finding you, princess."
She gawped. "I'm not a—"
"I was only cracking a joke," he hastily said.
Sana didn't like how he ceaselessly resorted to humor to deflect his feelings. It was charming at first, but the implications made it grow stale. Almost as stale as his dogmatic rationalist thinking. "This island is not large but it's easy to get lost on since the trees all look the same. The ones with the big bright green leaves with tiny diamond spots of hoary on their veins only grow on the northern side of the island."
"Yeah well then why don't you come along and be my navigator Sana?" she asked, hoping for her to oblige to another one of his offers.
"No. I—I'm tired from the feedback fall." Sana straight up lied to him. "That shouldn't have happened. Everything—"
"You're being weird now, whatever happened to everything we had going on?" he asked frustrated.
"Chris you're—ah forget it." She made a really sour face.
The trainer wobbled over to her, careful to maintain his balance. She flinched slightly as he approached. Once he was an arm's distance away, he stopped. Blowing some hair out of his eyes, he looked at hers again with desire. "What happened? Why won't you tell me?"
"Because!" she said flustered. Her head turned away.
Edge reached out to grab her hand but she shook him off and backed away. "Sana, what's gotten into you? I thought you were happy! I thought what happened made you happy."
"I—I was happy," she bowed her head and looked beyond the trees at the mountains in the background. "I could have been happy."
"Tell me," he asked affectionately, trying his hardest to make it seem genuine. He knew that deep down their existed a ravenous hunger to possess her. To be with her. It had to have something to do with the Gardevoir horn in his chest.
"N—No. Learn how to perceive no," she said to him as if he was a little boy.
"I'm a person Sana; I can't penetrate your emotional substratum to read your mind."
"You aren't doing any mind reading; you're supposed to be reading hearts. But you'll failing at even that simple task!"
"Pah…" he grumbled. His situation never gave him simplistic tasks. "Mind, hearts, brains. Semantics."
"I can't wait for you to learn…," she whispered.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Oh nothing, go off and find some food. You must be starving with all that heavy thinking you do."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
She crossed her arms and looked at a few of the light orange blanket flowers by her feet.
"Humph. You want to make me go off all on my own? Fine. Who's to say I'll come back though?"
She suddenly looked at him with both her eyes and he could perceive the worry instantly in their nebulous cherry glow. "You wouldn't do that."
"Oh? Better come with me and make sure right Sana?" At this point, it wasn't just a matter of keeping her in his clutches and gaining some control, Edge also wanted assurance that she would let him go. Everything was riding on this. He believed her naivety would let him go, but at the same time, he questioned just how deep her trust laid root. Did she honestly think he was an incarnation of Sephiteos? A pure incarnation? A wish? Some angelic life form?
"I told you I'm not going and that's final, veh Feyera."
"Daww. Will you at least please tell me why?" he begged sarcastically.
"No." She kicked the stem of a bleeding heartwine flower causing it to wiggle in an artificial breeze.
"Then how can I fix it?"
"I told you already. I need time alone. All this…it's starting to weigh on me."
"Like you're the only one it's weighing on! Always about you!" He threw his arms in the air. "What about me?"
"I don't know what you are sometimes. Just leave me alone and go find some food. I'll be waiting here," she said thinking about how difficult this fracture would have been if she could not discern his emotion. At least she knew he had emotion. That was the only consoling factor to her. The Rocket who had killed her mate could not have possibly had emotions. It was a crucial change. First the exposure of the Gardevoir shard, and now the introduction of emotion, he really was different she insisted. Becoming different. This whole occurrence was development. His metamorphosis. She had to direct it.
"It's always going to be about you right? What if I don't find enough food for the both of us?" he asked playing devil's advocate.
"Veh Feyera…just go…this isn't about the food anymore," she knew it wouldn't make a difference how much food he brought back. It didn't matter. "It's about as you eloquently put before: separation."
"Separation? You're the last one I'd expect to hear that from."
Why was he surprised? Sana took it to heart when he said that he wanted to split himself apart. She couldn't forget that. Now that she knew, no amount of affection would cover his exposed intentions. She just couldn't seem to win him over, make him remember. Nothing was working. The frustration ate away at her already broken spirit. "Why? You didn't want this if I recall correctly," Sana said referring to their limited physical encounter.
"So now I'm just a toy that gets put back on the shelf when you are finishing fondling my Gardevoir horn?"
"YOUR Gardevoir horn?" Sana shrieked in rage. "You don't understand the half of it. And what does that make me? Some human girl you could never get a hold of because of your own lack of emotion? You kissed me like you would a human girl."
He was taken aback by this, "I—a human girl?"
"Yes like 'Lorelei'. Lorelei, Lorelei, from your stupid dreams," the Gardevoir softly growled saying the Elite Four member's name loud and clear. "Both times. I was made into a replacement for what you never had—what you could never have without emotion."
"You went along with it," he said trying to force an innocent smile. Her words really did sting Edge more than he'd care to admit.
"I followed your lead, read your heart in the heat of the moment. Both times. You don't understand what affection is for a Gardevoir yet. You have no idea of the things Seph and I shared together, no memory of—" Sana caught her breath, her chest was rising up and down rather quickly from nostalgic pleasure, "—your human desires, the way you show affection, are nothing in comparison."
Edge wondered why she kept saying both times, but he dismissed it as a quirk of hers. "So you are telling me you didn't enjoy it? Because it sure as hell seemed like you did."
She contemplated. Perhaps she did like it. Especially when it was done suddenly and unexpectedly. An unprecedented nature made it worthwhile. Sana never expected it, and she did find it to be enticing despite its oddity. Sana wasn't completely one-hundred-percent sure though.
"Affection is typically much different amid Gardevoir. Kissing and pecking are not by any means uncommon, but in humans additional nerves on the lips and tongue make the action feel more…personable."
"You could feel it?" Feyera asked in rapture. How was that even possible? She made it sound like she didn't have the human nerves. Did she use his? This was all becoming very confusing.
"Of course," she said as if it were a secret. The extraordinary thing about it all was how much she was able to take out of his experience. Following the initial shock, she felt his pleasure activated and hers linked to fit seamlessly around the eudemonia like a glove.
"I don't believe you. You had me convinced otherwise. You seemed natural." Edge had no idea what a natural kisser even was.
"Well you are hardly perceptive enough yet to…"
"There's no goal. I'm not trying to become perceptive; I'm not trying to become a better Gardevoir. Because I'm not one."
"Exactly. What I don't enjoy is what you've been doing behind the scenes. You're sneaky. Snakelike. You have an agenda and I mean to expose it before I get hurt."
"Don't call me those names. I'm genuine. You saw me—" Feyera winced at the thought, "—show emotion."
"I don't know what you're trying to say," she said. Although she knew exactly what he was trying to do. Enter in through her compassionate side; reflect that he had good intentions paving his path, or rather, that good intentions could be utilized to pave his path. As sly as ever.
"I showed you emotion. What more do you want? Hell, I even cried in front of you. If that's not genuine enough I don't know what is!"
"It isn't that simple. Just because you have emotion doesn't mean that—" she paused again taking a deep breath, "—doesn't say anything about your identity."
"I thought you said that identity is determined by your heart? I thought you said for a Gardevoir to determine an identity—"
"Yes, 'for a Gardevoir'." She emphasized, referring to his earlier distancing from the species.
"Well I think I understand now," Edge replied stone-faced. He didn't want to understand. Instead, he insisted that it was Sana's fault. She was manipulative. She tried pulling him into her world, tried making him feel things in ways he never felt before only to have those sensations pulled out from underneath him like they were now. It was all done in order to manipulate him. To make him addicted to following her orders. To make his mind as vacant as a starlit sea.
"Do you? Can you?" she asked. She wondered if he could try and become more like her. More like Seph. More like who he was supposed to be. More like his horn wanted him to be.
"Yeah. I understand perfectly fine," Edge said with a touch of malice in his raspy tone. "You have double standards. Your kind's the worst."
"What are you saying? 'My kind'?" she huffed out straightening her posture. Was he insulting her species? Didn't he see the firebrick shard jutting out of his own body day and night testifying his own connection to the Gardevoir species?
"You are a hypocrite!" Edge yelled. "Things that are okay for you to do I have no business in doing. What? Do you want to be in charge or something?"
Secretly she did. She was very similar to Edge in this regard. Life had also dealt her a poor hand, and she found herself always seeking to command what she could. Where she differed though were in her methods. They were much more intricate than the brute force employed by most problem solvers such as Feyera. She saw no need to use such blunt methods with manipulation as a possible avenue. "I'm like you then," she offered in response. "Or rather, you are like me. Personally, I like saying the second one better."
"I'm not like you. I'm nothing like you! I don't use manipulation to mess with people's heads," Edge stammered. He thought about when he had used psyonics to try and read the minds of others. They were few and far between, growing less numerous as time went on. At least he hoped that was the case. What constituted as manipulation? Reading people's names like Allen Ross back at Celadon's Pokemon Gym? Determining people's emotions to see if they were threatening to him or his friends? Talking to his Pokemon when they had similar emotional frequencies to keep them company? Those weren't too bad, they were harmless.
"Sure you are. You think that 'psyonics' are a part of you right?" Sana said 'psyonics aloud startling him. The irony of it all. A Gardevoir using Psychic power to say a human word that referred to the last thing his own powers came from. His powers were not psyonics; they were stolen Psychic abilities from Sephiteos.
He clenched up. His haloed eyes sprung about in a dance of disarray as he came to terms with things. The manipulative mind reading, used on the late Agent Kelvin and Fredrick. But it did not stop there. He also had the manipulation over gravity, the manipulation over his Pokemon in the heat of combat. Those were the times where he felt most confident in his abilities. Or to a certain degree his psyonics fed back to him the sensation of cottony comfort. He could not deny that phenomenal comfort. The only matching sensation was how he felt whenever he was in Sana's embrace. He locked onto her own heart shard.
She stared at his eyes, now paralyzed. "A reeeeaaaaaaaaallll nice part. Dontcha think veh Feyera?"
"F—for now," he spat out.
She immediately spun around hearing this and began to walk off.
"Wait, where are you going?" Edge asked running up next to her. She made a grimace and turned her head away from him.
"Away!" she angrily shouted.
"You can't do that Sana."
"Veh Feyera, just understand that I need some time away from you. Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be!"
Edge, more distraught than ever at her difficulty or the fact that he wasn't getting his way, stumbled slightly. She refused express that she cared. "You are being overly emotional. What did I do wrong?" Things had been going well for him.
"Chris veh Feyera. Go. Now!" She ordered without even looking at him.
"And if I don't?"
But she kept walking away. "I know how to deal with that."
He was curious to find out. "Oh yeah? Just how are you going to 'deal with me'?" he exclaimed using his arms to make air quotes.
She stopped mid step and bowed her head to look down at her gown. "There are ways to shut you down for good." Sana knew she would have to use little more than pronged vocabulary to inhibit Edge. There was no point in even employing Psychic power other than their latent emotional tether to bend him to her will. The best thing was if done correctly, he would do most of the work for her. Her own security was assured no matter what.
"Oh? OH? But then what about this precious little heart you adore so much Sana?" he fondled it, gracing his narrow fingers over the glossy rim. The action, along with the level of emotion he was currently discharging gave him a momentary high. Something that felt incredible. His eyes rolled backwards instinctually and dilated. Sana felt it too, through the bond and she instinctually rubbed her heel on the soft ground in response. Using a great deal of energy, she fought off the urges it gave her. Coming to a full stop, she made it seem like she was thinking. It was exactly what Edge had hoped to see.
She believed the less he knew about it the better. What worried her was how much of a scientist at heart he was. If he wanted to learn about how Gardevoir hearts worked, he would have no problem. He had a sample embedded in him—as him already! Fortunately, his own denial of such aspects had worked in her favor by keeping his voracious search for knowledge at bay. She knew the potential outcomes, and she dared not think about it for too long. If Edge gained too much knowledge, he could even subjugate her to his own emotion. Much like in a feedback fall, he could pull at her own emotions. With a linked heart however, it was much more control oriented, and it was sweet control which she savored as an ace in the hole.
"I lived without it for two years. Now that I've had a taste of what ill wind is attached to it I must reconsider my options…"
"You'll reconsider nothing. You know it!" he yelled with swollen irises from the recent elation. The whole world seemed to be pulsating with his heartbeat. Each thump made his eyes madly swell. "You can't be without it."
She ran a delicate hand through her hair as she continued to walk south bound. "Aw, but neither can you though."
"Lies. I was fine without it before and I'm going to be fine without it again. I told you this is temporary. It's not a big deal for me. But for you, it's your everything!"
The Gardevoir stopped again, this time outstretching both her arms arching her back. "The typical thing for someone in denial to do is simply deny the fact all together. That's the conventional psychological defensive mechanism's path. However what you've done with your rationalization is resorted to minimisation."
"What?" he said surprised to hear such a deep explanation from her.
"It's not a big deal right?" she mocked. "Your—your predicament."
"Course not. I've got resources to fix it," Feyera lied. He had grown quite good at quipping back with deceit. The deceit came from himself. He had to keep convincing himself of what he wanted to believe in. In reality though, he had nothing but his self-fed lies. And a stupid hallowed out bracelet, the shell of the Mercury Relic. No amount of fluff could save his rational mind from the physical facts. All he had was a prayer and Fredrick's semi-intangible aid.
"I'm glad you do. Really. If you didn't that would be just awful, now wouldn't it?" she caricatured after an infallible read of his insecurity.
Edge looked down at himself. "You're sick. You want this for me? You want me to be stuck like this!"
"Hah!" she exclaimed gleefully. It was already working; he had given control up a while ago.
"You do don't you? You want me for yourself!" he exclaimed.
"I want YOU for myself?" she exclaimed. Then she dropped the big one, "What constitutes 'you' veh Feyera?"
"This," he said playing off his own Gardevoir attributes once more. "This is all that I am to you."
"Apparently it's not."
"Oh?" he asked in wonder. "What else could you possibly see in me besides this horn?"
"That attitude for starters. You also have some other nasty sides to you that could use some chaffing." She muttered, "Totally unacceptable for a budding Gardevoir."
"Who are you to judge me? What gives you the right to say anything about how I live my life?" Feyera said stomping his foot on the earth, feeling indignant.
"Why are you following me then? Why are you asking for my advice on how to forage for food? You should be moving on to go figure out how to use your resources and fix everything," she said purring.
"Fine. I'll go. And you'll never be sure whether or not I'll come back!"
As Edge Feyera stormed off in the opposite direction, he thought he heard her faint telepathic laugh.