For Isidora's purposes, night was the best time to try this. The temperature was bearable and her mind was at its sharpest. She didn't plan to stay long or go too far along the highway: this was for some light training, and nothing more.
The exacts of how her powers worked in this world was something she still wasn't fully clear on. It was similar, but it was different, and previous attempts to think too hard about what she was doing when using a move didn't always go well. She understood how to make a move
happen, but beyond that it felt like blind stumbling. However, when she began reading into the source of a pokemon's powers, referred to as her "Aura" in this world, she was hit with something of an epiphany. Maybe, to properly understand how her moves worked, she just needed to change her frame of mind a bit.
She couldn't access her soul to use magic with it. She didn't understand why, but she couldn't, that much she knew. But she
could access this “aura”. In her own world, "auras" and "souls" were the same thing: two concepts for the same idea that their origin cultures used to understand the world and their place in it. But here, they must've been two distinctly different things. So maybe…
Isidora stopped and looked behind her, Frontier Town far behind her now. She kept an ear out and scanned the area. Nothing but the dirt path and a few shrubs surrounded her. It was quiet.
Perfect.
Maybe it was just desperation. She hated what Betel took from her, even if it wasn't their fault. She’d place her claw on her shoulder and nothing was there, like her soul didn't even exist. The wound on her arm felt no pain but still stung, carrying the memory of how she tried to save herself and failed. She had never realized just how important, how
foundational her magic was to her until it was gone.
Isidora unsheathed her claws and placed one on her left shoulder again. She concentrated, tried to ground herself, put special attention to the sensation of cold bone digging through her pelt and poking her skin. A deep breath. She tried to feel her aura, imagined what it would feel like to pull it down her arm. But she couldn't pull something she couldn't grab.
Give me something. The sneasel’s claws dug into her skin.
Give me something. Her breath shook. It didn't feel like she was asking for much. She just needed
something to happen. Something to vindicate the work she put into getting stronger. She refused to be weaker than any of the humans, who had spent barely a month in bodies they had never truly lived in. The fear that her soul was cut off from her
on purpose, that she was made weaker so
they could be stronger, came to the forefront again. Her soul was
hers, she should be allowed to do whatever she wanted with it. This wasn't fair.
Give me something. Her ears flattened. It wasn't clicking; she could feel her aura but it felt rigid and unintuitive. It kept wanting to follow familiar paths, not listening to
her but some primal instinct. Resignation started to creep in, but she refused to give up. It took all of her self control not to pierce skin.
Give me something. Give me something. Give me something give me something gimme something gimme something give me SOMETHING!
Something budged.
Her eyes widened and on instinct she
tore her claws down her arm. It all happened in an instant, the feeling of
something following her motion until she effortlessly pulled it out.
The mental tax left Isidora panting and shivering. Her arm felt… cold. Unnaturally so, like something stole all of its heat from within. And she could feel the source of that cold stuck to her right claws.
Did I…?
She looked down at her paw. It was shrouded in something dark, some midway between purple and black. It made her paw numb. And the instant she realized something was wrong, it dissipated.
She gasped and clutched her paw. Feeling returned to it, but the small void she could feel in her chest remained.
“Wh… wha
t…?”
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