At first the images her mind conjured of the Isles were enough to fill her with soft nostalgia, shielding her from the truths her brain wasn’t built for.
But it couldn’t last forever. That shield had begun to crumble, forcing her to put an effort of will into holding the pieces together, not seeing past them.
She’d retreated into recent memories, at first. The inside of her house, spending time with her children. But those memories were filled with pitfalls of their own.
The uncertainty of her children’s safety, of her home still being there in real life. The image of the Titan’s skull crumbling at the mercy of something that could move the moon without a second thought. No, recent memories weren’t helping right now, let alone future ones.
She needed something earlier. Something safer. Something from when the universe still made sense.
Eda wasn’t quite sure when the scene actually changed. But the familiar voice calling her a riot was when she noticed where she was.
There was a twinge in her chest as she couldn’t help but worry about the actual Raine, wherever they were. But this was undeniably a good memory. One of her favourites. What could it hurt to let it play out? Maybe this would be the one to fully take her mind off everything else.
“Uh, no,” she began. What had she said back then, exactly?
“Clearly I excel at functions such as these. Didn’t you see how impressed everyone was when I faked my own death?” she quipped, grinning at the first kid here to make an effort to talk to her.
“I even love the horrible liquids they serve,” she added, holding up her cup of incredibly mediocre fruit punch.
It’s All Just Snakes and Ladders
At first the images her mind conjured of the Isles were enough to fill her with soft nostalgia, shielding her from the truths her brain wasn’t built for.
But it couldn’t last forever. That shield had begun to crumble, forcing her to put an effort of will into holding the pieces together, not seeing past them.
She’d retreated into recent memories, at first. The inside of her house, spending time with her children. But those memories were filled with pitfalls of their own.
The uncertainty of her children’s safety, of her home still being there in real life. The image of the Titan’s skull crumbling at the mercy of something that could move the moon without a second thought. No, recent memories weren’t helping right now, let alone future ones.
She needed something earlier. Something safer. Something from when the universe still made sense.
Eda wasn’t quite sure when the scene actually changed. But the familiar voice calling her a riot was when she noticed where she was.
There was a twinge in her chest as she couldn’t help but worry about the actual Raine, wherever they were. But this was undeniably a good memory. One of her favourites. What could it hurt to let it play out? Maybe this would be the one to fully take her mind off everything else.
“Uh, no,” she began. What had she said back then, exactly?
“Clearly I excel at functions such as these. Didn’t you see how impressed everyone was when I faked my own death?” she quipped, grinning at the first kid here to make an effort to talk to her.
“I even love the horrible liquids they serve,” she added, holding up her cup of incredibly mediocre fruit punch.