The Day My Dream Died

30 - Homebound

— 30 —

Homebound

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    Lise wipes the tears from her eyes as she stands up. She wants to chase after him, try to do anything to help him, but she can only foresee failure. If she falls again, she doesn't know if she can get back up, and Seli still needs her. It is the worst feeling, to accede to her limits. Knowing if she were only a bit better, a little stronger, she could have saved everyone this pain.

    I can still save Elineal. How? She can't say. She's never tried to mend a person's mind, it would normally just heal with time and care, but this is an extreme situation. It demands an extreme solution. What if I put her back together wrong? What if she's not 'Elineal'  anymore? Whatever comes of it, she thinks, it will be better than simply ceasing to be altogether. Or it won't.

    The truth is I don't know who Elineal was before the fiends. Even she doesn't know anymore, or it's distorted to the point that making the distinction is a barren endeavor. But there are still memories there... in pieces, but not gone. She takes a deep breath, preparing herself as she returns to where the woman kneels. This is going to be more complicated than I'd hoped...

    As she rests her hands on Elineal's head, she recalls tell of a memory, half-remembered from a memory not her own. Pelezel...

—13 Days Ago—

    The sun hovers over Kellean, beaming bright off the white city. Plain, near square buildings of bleached clay cluster the bustling streets. From the plateaus to the north the sprawling city looks like bone-shards spilt over the black-blue sands of the Bereun Expanse.

    Elineal peers over the city, trying to see her home. The streets themselves are winding, but they are still arrayed in a traceable pattern—a net tossed but not pulled taught. She gives up shortly; while they aren't uniform in shape, from a distance the houses are too hard to differentiate.

    "What are you looking at?" The boy asks.

    He has a manner of going about in a way she doesn't like. That is about as specific as her feelings are on the matter. There is a sense of him, that she perceives distantly, of not wanting to be wherever he is at any given moment. Probably looks out of place in his own room.

    "Just trying to see my house." She replies with composure.

    Fortunately, he leaves her alone after that, replying with barely a grunt. He is several years her junior and still he talks to her as if they are peers. Technically, they are—to be fair to him—but she thinks they shouldn't be. She has been among the top of her class for years, yet she gets paired with a malcontent slacker two years younger. He hadn't even graduated.

    Elineal sits, hanging her feet over the plateau's edge, feeling as unenthused as she's ever. She's been striving towards this for three years, to learn under The Kelle's finest, but now that she's here she just wants to go lay in her bed and sleep away the day. All the times she'd come so close to giving up, buckling under the sleepless cycles, the endless essays, the stress of writing and revising and rewriting, always grasping for perfection and never satisfied.

    And now that the weight is off her, now that she is here, she doesn't even care. That this is what she struggled for all this time, only to find out she could've accomplished the same without ever attending class. Pointless.

    She scrubs the tears from her eyes, she doesn't want to cry. But her throat is so tight. Her breath comes in shuddering gasps as she tries desperately to regain her composure. Desin would think me a child if he saw me now... The thought doesn't help the pain in her chest.

    Perhaps that's it... Without Desineal, she has no one to keep her honest, encourage her aspirations. But then, she should've faltered before now. She'd persevered, working harder than ever even after his death.

    "Good day!" Someone calls from behind. "You didn't wait too long, I pray—though you probably did."

    She takes a moment to turn, trying to rub the puffiness from her eyes. The woman who approaches is familiar, but only as a practitioner. Those green robes are instantly recognizable. So this is who's meant to teach us? She hardly looks older than we are. She has light brown hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her slender head. The robes look large on the bony frame poking past the folds. Her amber eyes appear clever, but no more—too much of her smile touches them for the sharpness of one truly gifted.

    "You brought enough water? I know it's a bit of a hike to get here, I promise it won't be too frequent." She shrugs, "But it makes for good practice!"

    "Who are you?" Elineal asks, impatient. The boy glances at her, surprised at her tone, but stays quiet.

    "Right! I've gotten ahead of myself! My name is Aleen. Though I've been told Ascrawny would be more apt." She pauses. "Well, that was a joke, but anyway we'll just move past that... I've been assigned to raise you two into full practitioners. I assume you're Elineal, and you're Pelezel, yes?"

    They nod but offer little more.

    "Alright, well, maybe we should start by sharing a bit about ourselves? I'll start. As I said, I'm Aleen of Harmony, my favorite food is spiced gobe with cream, and I have a pet nell called Freak."

    "I'm Pelezel." Says the boy, oddly pleasant. "I don't have a favorite food or pet, but I have six sisters and a father. I only like some of them."

    "It's good to meet you, Pelezel." She says and sounds genuine. "Do you have a favorite toy? Something you do that makes you happy?"

    He appears taken aback, "Um, I don't know... I like finding cool bugs. I like my friends. I like exploring. Does that count?"

    "Certainly!" She answers with a broad smile. "Well, how about you Elineal?"

    "No."