Jewels from the Dark

Laoise slowed down and brought her focus to the rhythm of her heart and her breath. She reminded herself that in this moment, she was safe. She was in her home. The Void and the Waste Wind had never been able to penetrate these walls, this warmth, the soft glowing light.

But both still invaded her mind, often. There were times she could still feel the cold caress of the Wind on her face. Other moments when she was between sleep and awake, where the deep dark stole her breath away like the Void. As she remembered, she could feel the beat of her heart pound stronger…her breath quickening. Suddenly, she could not find her way back to the safety of her home, back to the light.

Laoise gasped as the silver scars on her face began to turn cold, so cold they burned. She was lost…lost in the cold…lost in the pain…lost in what her life had once been and what it was now. Tears began to form and cascade over the rims of her eyes, finding trails along her scars running down toward her heart.

Instead of fighting it, she allowed the moment to linger. She had learned that when she tried to pull herself out of these moments of memory, it only caused exhaustion and the darkness to linger. She drew in a stuttering breath and focused on the rhythm of the moment – the way it came like a wave. The moment it took her under. The moment it relented. Her breath and her heart still working. Still bringing life. Still existing.

She was still here. Even on days and moments when the call of the Wind and the heavy pull of the Void felt impossible to resist, she would resist. She would allow the disruptive moment, embrace it, and it would pass. Sometimes with difficulty, sometimes so painfully slowly she thought it would never leave, but it always passed.

Laoise placed a hand over her heart and continued to give space to the moment. As she did, she could feel the presence of someone move into this moment with her. She startled, unaccustomed to visitors in her home. Yet she felt a sense of peace and comfort with this presence; a familiarity that was safe. The presence moved closer, allowing her to still be alone, but also allowing her to relax into the moment of memory, knowing there was someone who would not let her fall into it completely.