I need that fire just to know that I'm awake
You’re beautiful like one!
A faint smile curves her lips at that. She isn’t, of course, but it is kind of him to say. And if nothing else, she could see that he is very kind. Sometimes she wonders if it is truly reality, or only a terrible nightmare that she will one day awaken from. It feels real though. Far too real. And dread tells her this is not a nightmare she can wake from.
But perhaps it doesn’t have to be a nightmare. She might never burst free, as he so eloquently suggested, but perhaps her life could have some meaning. Even if she cannot see it at this particular moment. Perhaps he could offer her that.
The plague is concerning though, she thinks. She has no memory of plague, but she knows the word is not good. Her memories, fractured as they are, had not caused her to lose her language. She remembers words. She knows things can be good or bad, even if she has no memory of such a thing. As though it is more that memory, more than thought. Rather a gut feeling, that tells things she truly ought to know. That much at least, she had not lost. She could still claim instinct, even if she could not claim memory.
He tells her of his home though, a place safe from plague. She has only his words to go on, but something in her tells her she can trust him. That he would not lead her purposefully astray. She only hopes her instinct is as accurate as it feels.
“I would like that, I think,” she replies, her brow furrowing faintly. A place safe from plague, but also with others. Others who had helped him. Who could possibly help her too. “Could they heal my mind?”
Joscelin
