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InsertNameHere ID: 6Kf0yoWS/qst/6233926#6246435
5/23/2025, 12:05:22 AM
What am I trying to prove? Looking outside into the forest doesn't hold that same feeling of wonder anymore; someone died amongst those trees and came back as a soul-eating Risen. If Usha hadn't been the cause of such an intense obsession... Stop it, Rey.

Tossing and turning won't accomplish anything. Getting up from your increasingly sweaty bed despite the cold, you don a jacket with your nightgown, clutch your new heart patch, and bring Usha with you as you leave. You're half-tempted to get your weapons, but seeing your dad turn to investigate the little noise you make convinces you not to be paranoid. You and he exchange a soundless nod as you enter your home, he seems to be fiddling with a knife and a small wooden box.

''Rey?'' Your mother isn't sleeping, perhaps nobody is. Wearing her nightgown, she props herself on her elbows as you stand in the doorway.
Nothing about this room changed. The gentle light of Mother Earth's web cast a gentle golden luminescence that is just enough to illuminate the nearby furniture instead of creating ominous shadows like un-Stop. I'm of age, an adult. I should be stronger than this.

''Come here.'' There is no judgment, no pride in your mother's voice, only comfort. When you get closer, she gently puts Usha cup on the nightstand beside the bed and makes a place for you. Her arms gently wrap around you as she places your face above her heart.

You don't feel conscious of the tears that flow out, your shoulders shake with gentle tremors. I nearly died. I'm so sorry for scaring you two. Her arms wrap around you, finding that perfect medium between a tight hug and protective cocooning; your short outburst quiet to silence, and Father Sky's blessing of rest finally finds you.
Your soul and mind have recovered.

--

For the first time in years, you're the first person to awaken in your home (your father keeping guard all night doesn't count). Feeling neither refreshed nor rested, you extract yourself from your dear mother's hug and quietly step out of bed, knowing it'll take a while for this lethargy to rub off. I wish I could stop being such a nervous wreck and get some good sleep.

''Hey.'' Your father greeted you as he oversaw a handful of boiled eggs.
''Hey. Mind if I steal that?'' You greeted back, rubbing your eyes every minute. ''I think trying some new alchemical drink might be a good idea to wake up.'' Your sentence was interrupted by two yawns.
''You're far too young to start complaining about lacking energy. Boiled eggs dipped in honey again?'' Rikard makes a strange, polite grimace while asking. Your parents always gave you odd looks when you indulged that perfectly delicious and valid breakfast combination. Your father once called it a ''pregnant woman taste'' and you didn't eat breakfast for a month in retaliation. Punishing yourself to spite him didn't work out.