ioduanlogs | How do You Solve a Problem like Meira?

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How do You Solve a Problem like Meira?

Characters: Valdis and some open
Date: August 2018 (ish)
Location: Around Aifaran
Situation: Various
Warnings/Rating: In Headers

Valdis was tired. Between the return of the Narrakra and the discovery she could return ruins to complete something would have been bad enough without the memory of the visions or what she had seen soul-walking inside that corpse. Aside from that, the knowledge that she could move the Void with more power than she believed had sparked a new determination to harness its power without fear. The events of the last week had been eventful, what with the short term Dreamfolk that had arrived only to vanish once the damage had been done. Admittedly most of them hadn’t left much of a mark, but some had. She hoped that things would calm down for a few weeks at least.

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Trahearne gave the sketchbook a shake to loosen some of the sand, then flipped through the pages, more out of curiosity than any desire to pry. That so many of the drawings were incomplete was a little bit eerie, all the moreso because of the few details that had made it into the drawings were right alongside the vague, incomplete sections.

"They're very good for not being finished," he said, holding the sketchbook back out to her. "But... those pages, many of them looked like they were similar figures. Are you having trouble with finding inspiration?" Trahearne admittedly wasn't too familiar with how artists worked. He had just never been very deeply involved with the work of the handful he'd known, mostly because he'd been busy with his own studies.

Valdis watched him, not sure if she cared about him going through the sketches or if her anxiety had more to do with the fact she couldn't put her memories together. She mostly felt curiosity from him, which helped her to relax some of the tension she'd felt since waking.

"I took up drawing after an incident several years ago," she explained as she took the book from him, "There is a large part of my life that I don't remember, and sometimes sketching helps put together the fragments I do have."

But not this time. This time, based off lack of facts and conversation, felt much harder to pin down.

Frowning, Trahearne sank down to sit next to her on the sand. He's trying to choose his words carefully, because he just can't claim to know very much about losing one's memories. Certainly some of his earlier memories had grown dim by now, but that didn't sound at all similar to having an entire gap of time gone missing.

"Is it some form of amnesia? I've heard stories about the damage that a blow to the head can cause. Warriors have lost track of their entire lives that way." Trahearne pauses and then adds, "I also know that age tends to wear away the details. I tried explaining that to a sapling once, and I unintentionally frightened her into thinking that time would 'steal' her experiences from her."

Valdis sighed, lifting one hand to brush her hair behind one ear, still staring at the sketchbook. She didn't look at him when he sat, opting to disappear into her own mind as she considered what to tell him and how.

"You could say that," she replied, "But it's not that I don't remember. You see, I once lived by another name, but something is blocking the memories of that person...I don't know why it keeps them."

A breath before opening the sketchbook and pointing at one of the faceless figures. She knew his face, knew his voice, knew that he couldn't have always been filled with sorrow and hatred; but she couldn't remember a single instance of his kindness or his love.

"This is my father...I only recently learned of the connection." Or at least, compared to her life, "In all my memory, he had been my enemy, and I killed him as one."

Trahearne's expression and mood sobers considerably when she elaborates on the problem. He just spends a moment looking over the drawing before turning his gaze back to her, his concern nearly palpable.

"I imagine that there's little chance that a spell or curse is involved. It... very well could be that there's a deep part of your mind that doesn't want to remember. That fears the pain involved from knowing it."

Trahearne reaches out to tap the edge of the paper. "None of the stories I read about parents loving their children unconditionally ever addressed the darker side of the issue. That people are people, and are capable of being terrible even to their own flesh and blood. If he was your enemy, then you did what you had to do."

Valdis laughed softly, "Well, at least I know my brother loves me. He wouldn't jeopardize himself so much if he didn't."

Her gaze shifts back to the sketchbook, deciding to turn a few pages back. Sketches of Pepper, Devin, Anani, scenes of the city, the ones connected to the visions, the vast darkness. All the way to the first sketch of those she had lost so long ago.

"I'm sure there is pain and fear involved with the memory loss." Valdis sighs, "And yet it is far more complicated than that. Still, it's frustrating to only have bits and pieces that vanish as if they were never there. Hence the sketching."

She wasn't sure of much about her father, but the time she had met him after regaining her soul, he hadn't been the most loving person in the world. She managed a smile.

"Being crazy doesn't really have many perks."

Trahearne watched her flip through the sketchbook, but he doesn't ask her to linger on anything in particular. There are only a couple of people there he recognizes, and the glimpses he sees of the other sketches include other things that might be considered disturbing.

"Do you think that makes you crazy? Or is there something else?" Trahearne asks, taking care to keep his tone a bit lighter. "You're free to not answer, but - whatever your struggles, I'm sure there are solutions, or ways to manage the burden. Nothing is so complicated that it can't be untangled, even if it's slow going to get there. Those bits and pieces will surely add up one day."

A low mew from the bushes announced Anani's arrival. The fluffy white cat stumbled through the sand to rub against Trahearne, purring loudly. Valdis looked at her cat, trying to not think about being crazy.

"I suppose not," she replied. It was more the fact that she carried a giant serpent within her, a being of death and chaos that delighted in destruction and kept secrets. "The sketching is the easiest way to manage it, the Dreaming likes to throw things at me from time to time. It left me a crystal unicorn this morning, which triggered memories of my father, but they are quickly fleeing."

Anani shoved his head against Trahearne's hand, demanding to be pet.

Trahearne looked back over his shoulder at hearing the mew, and despite the dreary topic, he couldn't help but look delighted as Anani approached them. "Why, hello," he greeted the cat, gladly scritching over his forehead and behind his ears. To his credit, Trahearne wasn't the type to baby-talk Anani, even though he happy to spoil the cat in every other fashion.

"That's too specific of an item to be a coincidence. Sometimes I wonder if the odd events the Dreaming springs on us are some sort of... reaction to our thoughts or feelings." He looked back over to Valdis, saying in a thoughtful tone, "It could be a sign that you should keep it. Having it close might help you hold onto those snatches of memory, if nothing else."

Anani arched his back, clearly pleased with the attention. Valdis didn't reach toward him, the cat would come over eventually and Trahearne seemed to appreciate having him around.

"The Dreaming is fluid, and it is known to act in such a manner." It wouldn't be the first time things had appeared based upon thoughts and feelings. "I'm sure those in the Aisling Tower knows more about how it functions, but I'm not inclined to engage in conversations regarding their experiments."

She would hang on to the unicorn though.

"How old are you, Trahearne?"

Trahearne did briefly run his hand down Anani's back before returning to petting his ears, considering what Valdis had told him. "That's quite alright. I can always take another visit to the Tower to ask about it. At times I'm tempted to think that the Dreaming might in some way be sentient, but I don't want to make assumptions like that without proof." This place wasn't like his own world, and that was what made it so difficult to keep from treating it that way. Trahearne was far more used to being in a place with stronger magic and different rules for how everything worked.

"I saw twenty-six years before I arrived here," he said next, "Which I realize sounds young. I'm still the oldest of my kind. Sylvari are quite new to my world in the scheme of things," he explained with a faint smile.

Her aversion to the tower might be mostly from paranoia, but the Dreaming had never really been kind.

"I'm not sure its so much sentient as it is a force," Valdis replied, considering the possibilities of Trahearne asking the questions. It could be more fruitful to have someone with less suspicion visiting the tower.

She glanced at him, surprise in her eyes when he stated his age. "You speak with far more wisdom than any twenty-six year old I've met. The races of my world are ancient. The youngest is still twenty-three hundred years old."

"Can forces not be sentient? There's a realm of sorts that exerts influence upon my own people. It's a bit of a long explanation, but I can at least say that the Dreaming here isn't very similar." He had yet to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He missed the touch of his world's Dream, of feeling the presence of his siblings.

To her other comments, Trahearne's smile turns a bit sheepish. "I suppose I'm what I needed to be. It's much the same on my world - every other race has been there for many, many years. We had a bit of a rough start, but since then sylvari have become widely accepted, despite a few bumps here and there. It's my hope that we'll be able to survive to the point of being as ancient as the other races are."

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How do You Solve a Problem like Meira?

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