V2 C155
A lake.
A lake.
No?
Our home, Va’ren, Raka, our place of birth.
Our place of birth, our home, the only world that should have mattered to us.
Our home.
Our home?
The sight bestowed upon me now was one that elicited an ephemeral sense of peace. ‘Jormangandrs tail’, the bay that split the earth as if it were an inland ocean rejoined with the sea. It was evening, the sun casting it's shadow over the mountains to the west. The water glistened in the distance, some vestiges of light still clinging to the waters of Va'ren.
It is becoming tiresome, no?
It was always tiresome.
Always?
The voice that echoed my own, broke the chorus we'd maintained. Only then did I realize my own voice was that of earth, the one I felt I deserved, that of a dead man. The voice that accompanied mine as its partner, was sweet, light, with youth and expectation. It was like hearing a child speak English, but with all the heavy tones of a strangely Russian accent to give it weight. Looking back at myself, I realized I'd taken to the same huddled position I'd done in the waking world. Looking over, my movements were each mirrored by a girl, the one I'd lived as for nearly six years- no, seven? Nearly eight earth years now?
It isn't always.
It isn't always, I can accept that.
Then why place this upon yourself?
Would you not do the same?
We carry the same burden of morality in this—our sense of right, our sense of goodness.
Our sense of right, our sense of goodness.
Does one have the right to turn away a second chance laid before them?
Does one not have the right to choose to go on?
The questions battled my thoughts, both our thoughts. The questions felt like my own, both hers and mine as if they came from the same deep and suppressed reasoning.
I lost my battle the first time, I fought each successive attempt to help me.
We were both cowards then.
We are… are we?
…
…
Then, by that logic.
Should we not be happy?
We know what is on the other side, yes?
For us, infinite sleep.
Would it be the same for all?
How would it not?
Because we are as we have come to be.
…
…
Life is finite, and in our last moments, we each mewled to be saved.
And each of us were denied.
Not yet. That time has yet come to pass, and we have every opportunity from henceforth to amend such.
…
…
Open our diary.
Our diary?
You’ve come to understand everything thus far.
…
…
The first thing I did upon waking was lock my eyes on the bag that held both the file that Lorn had furnished and the Diary that both Godess and subconscious alike seemed to fixate on. The world slowly rushed in around me as I studied the leather bag, and my senses lit aflame.
“I’d like the wholeness of mind back, as shattered as that was in itself.”
The sound of the breakfast rush through the hall squeezing through the floor, carts and hooves doing their own part to prod at me through the balcony as well. The smell of fried eggs, and the burning fat of overcooked bacon wafted through the air.
It seems the family is well awake.
My mind wandered, albeit loosely, to my outburst at Callum. I was clouded by my own internal strife, and the turmoil of rising emotions that were undoubtedly overshadowing every other facet of my thoughts.
Like some teenage girl… of which I am.
—------------------
“Do you think she will greet us kindly when she wakes?”
Hatsumi’s voice split the accompanying noise in the home like a knife, the spoon she held at the moment of her question nearly falling from her grip into the rendered fat of the bacon she absentmindedly burnt. Callum, who was also present, looked up from the table, a wooden cup clasped between his hands. I let my eyes fall to the floor a moment as I watched him look at her, tired, more depressed than I’d ever seen. Each of them was silent past that, undoubtedly trying to find words to give freely without fear. The few days after my return, my chaotic mindset was not the best. Even with the few conversations held, it was clear they understood a greater range of what troubled me than our first reunion.
“She remembers everything, Callum… By the Gods, what I’ve done is unforgivable as a mother. Taking the choice of her few written memories from her.”
The spoon fell into the pan, the smell of burned pork growing as she took the pan and tossed it aside into the brass sink beside her with a loud enough clatter to make Callum and myself both flinch. I watched as the man, the one that I only just realized was taking the place of a well-meaning father, my father, rushed to Hatsumi’s side with his chair groaning against the wood underneath.
“You did your best. You said it yourself, she still said she loved you.”
Mother began to silently whimper.
“But I wrenched what we first promised each other away, the trust! The trust that I promised her!”
It hurts to hear this, but all the same I need to find this closure. True closure.
I looked away, hiding once more behind the wall from which I eavesdropped.
They have each other, for now, I can have peace of mind regarding them… And now I have to do this before I can move any further with my mind.
I looked back to the entrance of the home, Wyrmstooth and my bag were placed at the door, awaiting my departure.
Mother… Father… I’ll be back… or she will.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You remain ever the unpredictable girl, “Catan.”
“Why bother speaking like that?”
Like what?
Solah fielded the most pitiful attempt of feigning ignorance one could imagine. The walking goliath of a goddess stood over my shoulder, following me as I walked through the forest far from Brenton.
“Referring to me as the gender I now find myself, but proceeding to use the name of a dead man. It’s off-putting.”
Solah followed silently, as if taking a moment to think over her words.
I will continue to do so until your mind becomes settled on your course, of which I can sense is nearing.
“And here, your words still remain as confusing as ever.”
You intend to heed both my advice, and your own, soon. Especially given the panic you’ve created within your own household.
“Leaving the way I did?”
I stopped, Solah walking past a few feet before stopping to turn towards me.
Aye. Would you expect anything different from the love of a Mother and Father? Especially with the whirlwind of emotions you've hurled at them.
“Why should I not be surprised that even my dreams are torn at by your grating shit personality.”
Solah smirked uncharacteristically.
Would I not be doing you a disservice?
I didn't care to entertain a response; instead, I focused on the pack I now loosed from my back, tossing it to the ground as I took my seat in the crook of the tree’s roots.
“Which ones?”
This was the place, a small clearing at the side of a gentle river. It was peaceful, the frost of the early winter mornings already gone as the sun warmed the grass. It was here that I could see the dock once more, Traders River. I now stood before a tree I from a single memory that emblazoned itself years earlier. The same tree that I intended to spill my own blood.
Hmm?
I looked at the pack, placing Wyrmstooth aside.
“You said before that I was ‘just like my mother.”
I found myself smirking, albeit from the morbidity of the thoughts now crossing my mind. Solah’s expression settled once more as it tended to do.
Your thoughts seem to be calm now, but your subconscious pleading with your mind at the surface took its toll.
I nodded quietly.
“I’m tired of this, I want to know. I need to know. I’ve been feeling on edge all the while. Strangely irritable.”
It seems the tinderbox did not take long to burn up.
I looked up to Solah.
“You know, I hate you, but not knowing anymore– I–”
I found myself looking down at the binding of the diary.
“I think I understood what you were getting at. Hoping I would come to the conclusion earlier, weren't you?”
…
Solah remained silent as I held the book in hand, undoubtedly with bated breath.
“I wouldn't expect you to answer, useless goddess. You left me without answers even then, so what would change now?”
Another bout of silence, before she spoke once more.
That is why you’ve chosen this place?
She loosely eyed the ground around us, doing so out of show rather than washing the gesture aside.
“Where I first awoke… Or where I first forgot.”
I thumbed at the cover of the diary as I clenched my jaw.
“I’m taking the choice into my own hands, regardless of whether your manipulative harassment guided me here or not.”
I closed my eyes.
“Either I don’t wake up from this, or I simply persist. It doesn't matter anymore, not when my own sanity is in constant question because of it.”
So now you will read?
“Aye.”
I hesitated for a moment.
“Who am I really? Knowing what I supposedly do, why Mom– Elexis– and Juro both trusted you. Why would you just wipe over the soul of the daughter they both loved so much that they’d risk everything for her?”
Silence, and once more, the whim of sarcasm and humor possibly formed from the maelstrom of conflicting personalities that now inhabited this body pushed to the surface.
“I have a hard time believing the farce of a careless and cruel Goddess… well, at least the cruel part.”
Once more, a smirk crossed Solah’s face, one that was pained.
You really are Elexis’s daughter.
“I’d like to come to that conclusion myself, you ragged cunt. Don’t give me that look of sentimentality.”
I exaggerated the toothiness of my expression at the trailing edge of my sentence.
“I’ll give you yours eventually. How, I haven't a clue, but eventually.”
There was spite, still, anger at what she’d let come to pass, at what she’d done to me, as what I currently perceive that she’d done to me. I looked back down, to the book that I anticipated to tell me everything I needed to know, the book that would finalize whatever it was that she’d left planned for me, and beyond that, my wholeness of mind.
“If this is where my consciousness dies, it feels fitting. I couldn't do that to Mama and Papa– Hatsumi and Callum, or to Vaughn and Beryl… And If it doesn't, I will have the confidence to move on in my life without hesitation or regret… This is my fate, I choose it.”
The cover parted from the diary, revealing the first words written, the words left in it when it was given to me as a little girl.
“To our little girl, Kiyomi, happy eighth sun! This diary is for you and you alone, parchment to scribe your thoughts and feelings, even of us, when we undoubtedly make you upset as you grow.
With great love and care, Elexis and Juro.
P.s. Grier said he loves you too~.
P.p.s. Mom forgot me too, lil’goblin.~ Danae”
A simple birthday greeting, one of love, one from faces I could only remember in blurred clarity over time. As the words crossed my lips, the final line of distinction faded with a subtle wave of nostalgia, and with it a tear fell down my cheek.
It was me, from the start, I was just– me…
“I love you all–”
A shudder in my voice as the euphoria of realization settling one final time.
“—and miss you all– so much.”
