entry locked. release: trigger : phrase : “there’s something inside you” : condition : accept : voice : Sioned rch Bran.
I swore I would never do this again
Not after the last time I removed living memory from my mind. Last time it was careful, pieces picked specifically. It still makes things jarring in my mind when I think about Benedict, and I don’t fully understand what that has wrought.
I don’t know whether that makes it better or worse.
This time there is just a void. Between finally getting a good night’s sleep, and burying two items in the Grove of the Unicorn, there is nothing.
Luce is dead. Really dead. I don’t know if I was there, and the others are careful about what they say. They know. How could they not? I catch Hagan and Emil looking at me, concern mixed with pity. The former I understand, the latter infuriates me. I’m not a child. And this Despil? She looks at me as one might a
dissected animal. I do not know her, and I do not ask. Something tells me I will not like the answer to that question. Hagan is holding me at a distance….or am I doing that? I know there are probably good reasons for it. It still hurts.
Lara…..has a wall up. She fixed the pattern, and after I read the letter she sent, I understand what her purpose was, and am somewhat nervous about the part I have played. Luce and I were to walk the pattern together and Trump Lara through. Is that how Luce died? Did I somehow kill him in a pattern walk? Did he somehow kill himself? How did he die? I have not asked specifically. I’m not sure I want an answer.
Oberon. Why should it come as a surprise to me that he has co-opted someone else’s form? The concept seems familiar, but my mind won’t rest on why. I think Lara and I will need to do something about our friend. She does not look at me with concern or pity. With despair, yes, and a hint of knowing. Each of us has a piece missing….does she understand my reasons? I think she has far bigger things on her mind. She carries Luce’s sword. And Greyswandir
Honestly, I want to ask questions. I do.
|But when I get close to something||that peers in to the void, my||head explodes with|
fear and screaming. Ceaseless, uncontrolled, maddening, horrifying screaming.
- It is my own voice. It blankets my mind and I feel as if I stand on the verge of insanity.
Whatever the reason I have divested myself of these memories, whatever I have seen or done, it is….was…too much. I know where they are. Perhaps one day I can go back. Retrieve my thoughts one at a time. Perhaps.
I have that thought and feel so
that I disgorge my stomach.
Emil asks if I am well. I lie.
“Remnants of too much drinking.” I smile.
Keep up that smile, Sioned! Play to your role; head full of air, heart full of adventure, carefree and
delightfully forward, innocent, tactless, bright, flighty….……WHATEVER.
Don’t change, Sioned. And don’t let them see inside. Let them have their concern, their pity. Let them think they know what’s going on and what’s happening in your silly little head.
Don’t let them see, don’t let them see.
You aren’t ready.
I’m not sure you ever will be.