[002] Text

[brynkitten]

[Bryn has been extremely quiet since the trial, and has more or less kept to her room. After everything had calmed, she had forced herself to leave the training yard and back to her room, and left there only to get food and come back. Normally at a time when she was upset, she might have changed forms and gone for a run in the forest or out to the

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[miseducating]

Ah, Bryn, yes?

[You're more than just a hazy memory. He's got a face and a jumble of names. He's trying to match everyone with the right names.]

[brynkitten]

[HOLY FUCK.

That is Nick. Nick's handwriting. What is going on here? Is it Nick's ghost? Oh god is that a ghost writing to her?]

Yes, that's me.

...

Who are you?

[Because that can't be Nick, right? That would be crazy. Totally nuts. Nick is dead. She saw him die. In the stupid trial by combat with the crazy gigantic tiger lady's jaws around his neck.]

[miseducating]

I am not sure.

[brynkitten]

[...what?]

What do you mean?

[miseducating]

I do not remember. I am trying to sort it all out.

Can you tell me my name?

[brynkitten]

Yes it's Nick. Nickolas Santos. I think.

Do you know where you are right now?

[She feels strange to attach a name to a person who is supposed to be dead. Perhaps if she can track him down she can see for herself what's going on.]

[miseducating]

I was told I am in...Holloway's Keep?

[Ah she probably means exact location. Hold on.]

The chapel.

[brynkitten]

Stay there, I'm coming to see you.

[She doesn't know what she'll find. Bryn is already having visions of an open journal and Nick's quill writing, seemingly of its own power.

Minutes pass, and soon she passes the threshold into the chapel. Her eyes immediately scan for any sign of Nick, a journal, or some other ghostly presence.]

[miseducating]

[She will find him studying the stained glass windows curiously. He looks no worse for the wear. Any wounds he sustained before his death are gone. He turns when he senses the presence of another and when he spots Bryn, he seems to be looking at her critically. He doesn't quite recognize her.]

[brynkitten]

[The blood drains from her face. What on earth is going on here? That's Nick. Standing there. Breathing. Looking. Seemingly using all of his sense like a live person who wasn't killed in a trial by combat just days ago.

Bryn notices the lack of recognition in his eyes, and it's for that reason that she approaches slowly.]

Nick...is it really you?

[It sounds like such a stupid question to ask. So cliche. She averts her eyes immediately, silently berating herself in place of her Mother, who surely would have called her on it, had she been there.]

[miseducating]

I believe so. If that is truly my name.

[He's sure the name 'Nick' is in there somewhere. He's just not sure if that's his name.]

I did not remember anything when I woke up, not even what language I spoke. But, my memories are returning slowly, I think.

[brynkitten]

[This is so strange and surreal.

Don't mind Bryn, she's just going to...poke your arm to see if her finger goes through.]

[miseducating]

[And he smiles. It's faint, but there nonetheless.]

I do not understand how this is happening. Or why. But I am here.

[brynkitten]

[Feeling shocked enough to be moved to a more bold move, she lays an entire hand on his arm. Her fingertips curve around slightly as if to squeeze, before she snatches her hand back again with wide eyes.]

Per...perhaps this is why they're so cavalier about their trial by combat. The physical result are impermanent--

Oh my gosh, I'm just so glad that you're okay.

[It's been an emotional couple of days, and Bryn is so overwhelmed she starts to tear up again, despite her best efforts.]

[miseducating]

[D-don't cry, Bryn. Please don't cry. Nick is hesitant. He doesn't really know this woman. But it's clear they were friends before he died and forgot everything. So he's a little awkward about putting an arm around her shoulders. But he does it anyway.]

I am sorry, if I worried you.

[brynkitten]

[She's not going to cry, dammit. Crying in public is not allowed. It's something you're only supposed to do in the privacy of your own room if at all, and never where others can hear you. Shit, shit. Tears well up, and Bryn wipes at her eyes furiously and automatically responds with a broad smile.]

No, no, I'm fine. It's fine. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm really just glad you're okay.

[Still, she doesn't shrug away his arm. Bryn's shoulders stiffen, as if it's hard to relax, as if she doesn't know how to react to it. And really, she doesn't. She can't remember when anyone's ever done that before.]

You don't really know who I am, do you? That we're friends?