If he would sift through her mind he would find the wounds she kept digging at - the ones that she picked and picked until they were deeper than they should have been. He’d see the damage she has wrought on herself - how she won’t allow herself to heal or move on. He would see that this is all her fault - that her wasted life was her own doing.
It has been so long since she has been in the company of another - and certainly a long time since she has been in the company of someone at all amicable. The inhabitant of the Chamber had been a surly, cold bunch. They fended for themselves and certainly didn’t care too much about one another's feelings. Osyva found that to be quite alright. She didn’t have to answer to herself or anyone about her past. She just had to stay out of the way.
So when Raed pushes further, Osyva is unsure how to react. “Sounds like more than a simple dream.” And he is right. It is. It is a lifetime of living in the past. It is a lifetime she sometimes wishes she could forget, because all that was good is now gone. But, she cannot admit that. Instead she looks to the ground again.
Then he says her name, and she looks up through the curtain of her pale forelock. It is strange to hear another speak it after so long - stranger to hear it on a kind tongue.
“It is nice to meet you, Raed.” She says, raising her head to regard him fully. He blends almost wholly into the moonless night - shades of blue against the twinkling of a starlit sky. The chill of the night trails its fingers against her tear streaked cheeks, leaving salt behind.
The warmth of his body next to hers is somehow soothing. And the brush of his lips across her neck startles a soft glow from beneath her skin (light that had been absorbed earlier escaping into the night). Her eyes widen in surprise as the glow dissipates almost as quickly as it had appeared.
“What was that?” she asks, thinking that the glow must have been something Raed had done and not her own magic manifesting after years of dormancy. Osyva gently brushes her lips against the crook of his neck in return, her heart pounding loud in her ears, but the glow does not return. She does not know this, but the night weakens her. She draws away, somewhat perplexed.
“Why are you alone?” he asks gently, and she doesn’t know the answer. For a moment she lets the silence weigh heavy between them before she says “I’ve been alone a long time, I think.” Her voice is as soft as dawn - a touch of warmth against the horizon. But there is sadness too. She has never been able to quite shake it. “Something doesn’t seem right here.” She says, motioning to the blood stained ground. “Do you know what has happened?” she asks, wondering if the Chamber has suffered the same blight that seems to be here. And what of the Falls and the Gates?
