03-20-2022, 04:48 PM
Ryatah
WHEN I WAS SHIPWRECKED I THOUGHT OF YOU
IN THE CRACKS OF LIGHT I DREAMED OF YOU
They stand there, their own separate realities colliding, and somewhere in the dust there lies the truth. She thinks she can see it—thinks that this time, she knows what is real and not real. As far as she knows the void had done nothing to her actual memories; she remembers everything that has ever happened to her, remembers everyone she has loved and all the mistakes she has made. It’s a gut reaction, a bone-deep instinct that tells her the Pass that Lilliana speaks of does not exist, and never has existed, in Beqanna—this place where she has been reborn and remade so many times that she is sure its dust is now apart of her bones.
But how can she convince her friend of that when she isn’t sure of anything else?
How can she explain that to her when Ryatah isn’t even sure if this conversation is real?
“Tephra,” she repeats after the chestnut mare, still searching her familiar blue eyes, as if she might untangle the confusion if she looks hard enough. “You went from Tephra, to the Pass, and then the eclipse happened?” she says, trying to make sense of the things she says. Tephra and the eclipse, she knows—the relief at being able to remember an event and place it in the correct order of her own life was nearly overwhelming, and she can feel her own confidence surge. She remembers the eclipse; she remembers the beginning and the end of it, remembers keeping Este alive in between. And she knows, with complete certainty, that the eclipse had ended long before Gale killed her.
It also happened years ago, but Lilliana speaks as if it is much more recent.
She can feel her confidence begin to waver, can feel the darkness thread through the light that breaks through; that maybe this is all an elaborate illusion and that is why Lilli speaks of things that make sense tangled with the things that do not.
“I think we need to retrace your steps a bit more slowly,” she offers gently, hoping that perhaps by dissecting the situation more carefully she will keep herself from unraveling into a panic. “Were you at the Pass with anyone?” her tongue snags a little on the name of the place, seeming to stumble over the unfamiliarity of it, and she decides to take that as further sign that this is not a place she is supposed to know.
But how can she convince her friend of that when she isn’t sure of anything else?
How can she explain that to her when Ryatah isn’t even sure if this conversation is real?
“Tephra,” she repeats after the chestnut mare, still searching her familiar blue eyes, as if she might untangle the confusion if she looks hard enough. “You went from Tephra, to the Pass, and then the eclipse happened?” she says, trying to make sense of the things she says. Tephra and the eclipse, she knows—the relief at being able to remember an event and place it in the correct order of her own life was nearly overwhelming, and she can feel her own confidence surge. She remembers the eclipse; she remembers the beginning and the end of it, remembers keeping Este alive in between. And she knows, with complete certainty, that the eclipse had ended long before Gale killed her.
It also happened years ago, but Lilliana speaks as if it is much more recent.
She can feel her confidence begin to waver, can feel the darkness thread through the light that breaks through; that maybe this is all an elaborate illusion and that is why Lilli speaks of things that make sense tangled with the things that do not.
“I think we need to retrace your steps a bit more slowly,” she offers gently, hoping that perhaps by dissecting the situation more carefully she will keep herself from unraveling into a panic. “Were you at the Pass with anyone?” her tongue snags a little on the name of the place, seeming to stumble over the unfamiliarity of it, and she decides to take that as further sign that this is not a place she is supposed to know.
AND IT WAS REAL ENOUGH TO GET ME THROUGH —
BUT I SWEAR YOU WERE THERE
@lilliana