taair khalisa nasir 🕊️ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
historicals) wrote2025-02-08 04:09 pm
historicals) wrote2025-02-08 04:09 pmpc catchall | turboheaven | eupha
third eye.mp3
historicals) wrote2025-02-08 04:09 pm
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there's a beat. ]
...By all means, Miss Eupha. Your secrets are safe with me.
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In trying to reach Hell, we made an error in our trajectory, and instead found ourselves in an even worse place. A strange and sad village, where the people had all become mad and twisted. They attacked without warning, and their faces... were distorted in ways that were painful to even look upon.
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the more story she tells, the more taair's expression breaks into something soft and concerned, to aching in empathy and realization, and heartbreak. ]
... And that is where you saw Fidelio. [ the hand remains there as she talks, a quiet bastion of support. ] Oh, Miss Eupha...
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... It was Basilio I found first. But he was not affected. He helped me flee to safety, and fought against the monsters that pursued us. I had none of my true memories, and he was a stranger to me, but even in that world, we quickly became friends.
[ the smile fades. ]
Then we saw Fidelio.
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he closes his eyes, briefly, bracing himself against that mental image. awful. ]
...was he already... [ affected? ]
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It was difficult to see at first, and he even spoke, but... the words were nonsense, as if he was just repeating some things he had said in the distant past...
And when I saw his face, it was... terribly distorted. It hurt to look.
He attacked suddenly, and we worked together to bring him down. I thought that he would have died when his neck broke, but he kept moving...
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...How awful. [ he can almost picture it - and that's even worse, and he shakes his head briefly, trying to clear it, brows knit, mouth pulled into a soft frown. ] What a cruel thing to have to experience - and to do so without your memories, only to remember upon return...
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... I spoke to Basilio about some of my experience, but... not of this part. Only of the parts where we became friends, where he fought bravely, the parts that were amusing or inspiring...
I wished to remember only those parts.
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... I don't think anyone could blame you for that. [ softly: ] Yet... the trouble with our memory is that the longer we do not confront those things, the longer we hold onto them, the more that they fester. The more they find our way to us and haunt us.
But if we release them somehow, someway - in prayer, in writing, in confession to a friend, then... we can begin to let them heal, instead of let them rot. And then, perhaps those kind and warm parts will have room to root in our memories, and grow.
[ there's a gentle squeeze, and he tilts his head down to look at her properly, smiling soft. ]
Thank you for trusting me with your story, Miss Eupha.
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but there is a warm feeling here, and for the moment, she tries to focus just on that. ]
... I am grateful, too, that you are here to listen.