[The memories give Firo a raft to cling to, and in his panic he sucks in every detail. It feels almost novel, safe, to focus on the everything of one story rather than the everything of the universe.
Steven. Alain and Cuthbert. Roland.
The shadow's mind pulls him towards blackness, while the memory of the truth whispers more and more awareness, knowledge into his ears. He can't stand it. Yes, it's easier to faint.
He lets go--
--And wakes up, curled up on his side with a rock poking into his hip. The sharp smell of the grass mingles with the earth; this place is new to him. He knows that even before he opens his eyes.
He pushes himself up on his hands and looks around. The clearing is almost dark, and Firo realizes when he turns his eyes upward that the dimness is due mostly to the tightly woven vegetation around him.]
Where is this? ...Roland?
[Strange to say it, but that had been the name in his head.]
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Steven. Alain and Cuthbert. Roland.
The shadow's mind pulls him towards blackness, while the memory of the truth whispers more and more awareness, knowledge into his ears. He can't stand it. Yes, it's easier to faint.
He lets go--
--And wakes up, curled up on his side with a rock poking into his hip. The sharp smell of the grass mingles with the earth; this place is new to him. He knows that even before he opens his eyes.
He pushes himself up on his hands and looks around. The clearing is almost dark, and Firo realizes when he turns his eyes upward that the dimness is due mostly to the tightly woven vegetation around him.]
Where is this? ...Roland?
[Strange to say it, but that had been the name in his head.]