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+---- Thread: Tangled [M] [SOLO POST] (/showthread.php?tid=280)
Tangled [M] [SOLO POST] - T'lian - 29.Feb.12
So that was it then.
Talian finally blinked after Faranth knew how long, his eyes aching in dryness and strain as he let them fall shut. He felt like a tunnel snake without enough sun. His blood seemed to crawl through his veins, his movements lethargic and his mind numb. He couldn’t focus on anything. His mind raced, twisting and turning in every conceivable direction and yet going nowhere. Tonight, it seemed like no amount of drugs would calm it.
It was frustrating. He was a genius, wasn’t he? Shouldn’t he be able to keep his own mind under control? While normally it was his savior, tonight it was his persecutor. He blinked again, painfully aware of the dryness in his eyes. How long had he been staring at the ceiling, brows furrowed and jaw set, trying to make sense of the tangle of emotions knotted in his chest?
It was too much. On nights like this, where his mind wandered the winding labyrinth of what was, what was to be and what could not be, he found himself hopelessly lost with only one feasible method of escape. He tossed fitfully, reminding himself of the illogical nature of this truth.
It wasn’t new. It had been with him for a long time, lurking first beneath his bed when he started his apprenticeship at Healer Hall. It watched him like a faceless beast. It followed him up and down the halls, eyeing his every move. It typically wore his father’s face, but this time it was different. Here at Katila, there was no one to blame. It had no identity. That made it stronger.
Now it watched from every crack in the walls, every shadow flickering across the floor. Talian tried to ignore it, but in solitude, it grew strong. He felt its claws in him now. They numbed him to the world and drained his strength. He knew he needed to fight it, but how? They didn’t teach that in books.
Well, they did teach about drugs. But the drugs weren’t working.
He was over-thinking things again, tripping over his own thoughts and twisting himself into knots. He dwelled on the responses and behaviors of others, dismissing their kindness and delving into darker possible motives.
Had anyone ever actually loved him?
Was he just eye candy for some? A curiosity? An object of guilt? Something to be shown off and bragged about?
No, certainly not. That was foolish, and yet he could see the evidence everywhere. He’d argued with himself for hours by this point, clinging darkly to a few strands of hope. They wouldn’t abandon him, would they? They really cared, right? They had to. He saw the love in their eyes, and he was never wrong.
He was never wrong, right?
That was only one part of the puzzle, though. His friends were strings that contributed to the tangled knots, but so was the question of time. How did something like this happen? How could it have been different? How could it be different now? What would happen next?
It was disgusting how little influence he had over the tangle. His hands were useless, like a shaky apprentice trying to perform surgery. He could watch the knot with concern, he could even trace the strands and watch how they twisted together and influenced one another, but there was nothing he could do to unravel them. He wanted to straighten them out, to see the cords blend in a pleasing way…but the weave was spoiled.
There was only one solution: the knot had to be cut free. It was like a surgeon removing a growth. It was dirty work, but it wouldn’t be missed. All he was doing was removing an unwanted mess.
Talian rose to his feet.
He dressed himself first, selecting the outfit he’d been wearing the night B’jin snatched him up. He wrapped his headband around his neck and carefully placed his knots on his shoulder, wearing them with an unusual aura of pride. He took a moment to glance out his window, eyes lingering on the flashing stars for some minutes before he made his solemn, silent exit from his room.
He stopped by Erisi’s room first. There were several who deserved recognition, but Talian had few gifts to give. This would have to do. He removed his headband, still bloodstained from his last operation before his kidnapping, and wrapped it loosely around Erisi’s doorknob. Talian ran his fingers down the door, eyes half-open in a wistful dreamstate, before turning and walking away.
He enjoyed the walk to B’jin’s hut. The evening was cool without being unpleasant. He kept his eyes fixed on the sky overhead, recalling the many long nights he watched the stars with Fiora. He missed her so very much, but even so, he felt an odd hollowness as he tried to remember. Her scent had long faded from his clothes and her voice was starting to vanish from his mind, leaving him unable to recall it with accuracy. He missed her soft touch and looking into her eyes, dark blue like the Katilan sky late at night.
He remembered his first weeks at Katila, when passionate memories of her still burned within him. He could close his eyes at night and pretend she was still close, but not anymore. She was fading away like a ghost. That hollowness came with the realization that she was now, without those vivid memories still intact, completely and utterly removed from his life.
There was no substitute. The stars reminded him of her, though. They were a final link, but too distant and unknowable to satisfy him.
Upon reaching B’jin’s hut, the healer removed his knots. He looked down at them for a long moment, his face stoic and his mind unresponsive. These knots…he’d suffered much for them. They weren’t worth it. They were to some people, though, if only because they were bound to him. They were a symbol of everything he was – everything he was forced to be, and yet eventually embraced. They were a symbol of the one thing he had to be proud of. They were, when it came down to it, representative of everything he was.
B’jin deserved them.
Talian laid the knots down at B’jin’s doorstep. He froze for a few long moments as he stared at the door. Then, with a courteous nod of his head, he whispered “Goodbye, Dad,” before turning and walking back to the Weyr.
I lose. He was strangely at peace with the realization.