the c h a n g e // zenethil [FIN]

[Lorina]

Lorina glanced upward at the sky, studying the shapes and forms of the clouds instead of doing what she was supposed to. Oooh, that one had the shape of a bunny! A smile crossed her pink lips, and she thought of the white rabbit that often was late to their tea parties while she dreamed. The young girl was meant to be paying attention to her father as he tutored her with magic, but there were so many more interesting sights to lose herself in! Being outside was always so nice and relaxing, distorting her already blurred lines of reality. Would he be frustrated with her again for her lack of attention? Lorina was just not as focused as her older sister, and she really did wish to appease the older man. Nairore had no penchant for magic, and her presence allowed Zenethil to impart his knowledge for magic on someone. It was not that she did not appreciate his effort to teach her, but her attention was so very easily swayed by everything around her.

Humming to herself idly, Lorina let her blue gaze fall from the slowly drifting clouds above her head. What was he trying to show her today? Offensive magic, yes? That was what her father had uttered, and the young woman strove to keep her focus on him. The glassy look still lingered within her gaze, and Lorina really wished she had the focus and dedication of her sister. It would be so much more easily to pay attention if she had something in her hand, but she was absolutely terrible with weapons. Daggers were okay for her small hands, but anything bigger had her stumbling around like a loose maiden trying to hold her drinks down. It was a shame that her father could not have both talents he held imparted a child that shared the same traits. Well, Nairore was wonderful with weapons, and her penchant for magic was above average when she actually paid attention to her lessons.

Should she just admit she had not been paying attention? Lorina gazed up at her father with oceanic eyes, the sheen of her daydreaming slowly flickering away. "I'm sorry, father. What were you going to teach me today? I just saw cloud that was shaped like a rabbit, and it was adorable," she explained with a wistful sigh. At least she was honest with her distractions, no? Lorina smiled sweetly up at the older male, at ease with her misgivings.

[Zenethil]

Some days, Zenethil really did feel he was cursed with something of a duality in his life. One one hand, his first adopted daughter, Nairore was masterful with the blade, inept with magic, and scathing of virtually anyone who trained her. On the other hand, Lorina, adoptive daughter because of her father's death, taken under his wing because of her being the complete opposite in many respects. She was talented with magic, but inept with the blade. And she, as demonstrated now, was possessed with a chronic inability to concentrate.

Lorina? Lorina?

He had been explaining how she had to bring herself further into her deeper mental state, in order to tap into her powers further. Just as the cloud altered her priorities for the moment. He did, however, acknowledge the honesty, and smiled, if a little exasperated at the fact. He loved her dearly, almost as much as Nairore. But she was always so... Distant...

What we were learning is how to unlock your true potential. But perhaps, first we should work on your concentration, as irrespective of how adorable the cloud is, this is a lesson.

He sighed slightly, looking at her, taking her by the shoulders gently, still smiling softly. In so many ways, he felt for her. As an orphan himself, he shared her pain at having no parents. But in her case, she'd known the joys of parents. And they had been snatched from her. He thought for a moment, remembering something that he had noticed, pulling out a small dagger from its holster, placing it in one of her tiny hands.

Shall we try again?

[Lorina]

Lorina desperately wished to please him as much as her elder sister did, but she could see the fond exasperation he often held toward her. Her mind simply wandered too far, too often for him to keep her attention for long. It was simply so much more fun to allow her thoughts to run rampant and free, because she could come up with so many interesting things! Hatter and rabbits and grinning cats! That glassy gaze was about to return, but Lorina shook herself from her musings. Focus, focus, focus. On offensive magic. Meditating to find the power that lingered within her--and was that floral scent the result of the roses still blooming? Her gaze continued to sweep each and every direction, appearing much like the rabbits she adored so much. Trying to take in everything at once, but the world was simply too vast to do so. Oh, if only magic was as fun as tea parties, then she would be able to listen to her father speak about it all day. Perhaps she could persuade him to teach her over a tea party? It could not hurt to try.

Wide blue eyes focused upon Zenethil as he spoke, and she was reminded of the fact of her apparent lack of concentration. Lorina smiled sweetly up at him once more, unfazed by his exasperated sigh. His hands upon her shoulders was a steadying weight that managed to pull her back into reality. Clarity began to fill her senses, and a sharper focus came into her wide eyes. "I promise to try and ignore the clouds, father," she replied. While to others this may have appeared to be a sarcastic remark, her words were spoken with complete honesty. If only her lessons could always be inside, because there was much less for her to distract herself with. Lorina fidgeted beneath the steady weight of his hands, clasping her hands together in an attempt to keep herself preoccupied. At least he was not angry at her, and that was always a nice thing to know.

Lorina glanced downward, unclasping her hands as her father pressed the hilt of one of his daggers into her palm. The slight weight was familiar to her, and she deftly twirled the hilt of the weapon between her fingers. It was so much easier to focus when her mind focused upon getting the motions right with the dagger, and allowing herself to deny all distracting thoughts. Her focus was best when her mind was preoccupied. An odd thing, no? Lorina stilled immediately from her fidgeting, gazing at Zenethil with clear eyes and a settled mind. "Yes, whenever you wish to begin again," she reassured with a bright smile.

[Zenethil]

How he loved her. He only wished that both she and Nairore were both his actual children. Of his blood. Not just those he had taken into his care. While the difference was relatively minor, it was something that he acknowledged did prey upon his mind a lot. He could never replace their fathers. Nairore never had parents, so he had been her father, to an extent, but the vast differences were evident. Lorina? Little Lorina? That was something else. He smiled as she settled, the blade twirling deftly in her hands. It seemed to calm her. He'd have to remember that next time.

Now, Lorina, the first thing to remember, is that to make the most of your own control over magic, you must let it flow within you. Allow it to fill you. So, before we start, breathe deeply a few times.

He did so as well, to illustrate the point, as well as simply telling her. His chest rose and fell with each deep inhalation and exhalation. He nodded once at Lorina, before continuing.

Then, you must clear your mind. Now, the trick to that, is not to remove all though. Focus only on one thing. Since the dagger seems to help you concentrate, focus only on the dagger. We call this channelling.

He nodded once, before pressing on to the next step. Letting that magic flow from her. That would be the difficult part. He wasn't sure whether she knew what she was capable of. But he had been told by Priests that she was a very capable pyromancer. The thought rent his heart apart. The very thing that ripped her family from her, and she controlled it. So, he focussed on trying to get her to tackle something that wouldn't terrify her. He gently cut open the palm of his hand, a light wound.

Now, place your hands over the cut. Don't touch the cut. Now move your focus from the dagger to the cut. Focus on stemming the bleeding first, then sealing the wound. Give it a try, don't worry if it doesn't work. This step is a very big one.

It was. Partly because he was getting her to force her inner-magician into doing something that was alien to it. Oh how he wished that she could simply allow her evident natural talent to flourish...

[Lorina]

Lorina really did wish to improve her magic, but the energy always seemed to slip through her fingers like water. It was also a way to defend herself, since she was so hopeless with weapons. Well, not entirely, because she was twirling the blade in her hand without much thought. A dangerous blade that could cut her porcelain skin so easily, kept at bay by the graceful twirling motion of her fingers. She listened as he explained to her the importance of controlling her breathing, and she watched quietly as her father inhaled and exhaled for example. Her mind was rather clear as she played with the dagger, her own chest rising and falling slowly with her calm, deep breaths. It was almost relaxing in a way, and Lorina could feel the energy of her magic fizzle beneath her skin. An ever present energy should she really concentrate, but that was she did not enjoy focusing too much. The heat of the energy within her made her uncomfortable, but she trusted that her father would not make her do anything that would frighten her.

Lorina tried not to shy away from the energy, and so she lowered her guard to the unfamiliar feeling slowly. Warm and eager to leap to her touch, but she focused on the dagger in her hand. The familiar weight of it was a comfort, and heat was easily conducted with metal. It was not too hard to focus on her energy, but something within her was resistant to it, fighting against the uncomfortable heat. Azure eyes widened at Zenethil cut the palm of his hand, and the ruby red of the blood had her stiffening slightly. Blood made her a little uncomfortable, but it was only a small cut. Lorina realized he was starting her off with healing magic, and the soothing warmth of healing magic was not scary for her. Smiling slightly, she stilled her twirling of the dagger. Keeping her breathing steady and deep, she lifted her hands to hover above his.

Her magic was eager to answer her once her concentration was focused into directing the energy to the dagger. Healing the wound, sealing the broken veins, and then mending the torn skin. It was not the first time, but the warmth of the magic was becoming very, very hot within the palm of her hand. Her brow crinkled as she closed her eyes. This did not feel right to her at all, and part of her fought to quickly staunch the energy. Her slim frame began to shake, and the metal of the dagger soon seared with a healing flame instead of her usual healing spell. A yelp of surprise escaped her at the sensation, and eyes widening in mild panic as Lorina quickly lost her focus in favor of her natural fear. The wound on her father's hand had been seared closed by the heat of the flame, and she jumped back, dropping the dagger as it had become a hot brand. "N-no! Don't make me, don't make me..." she trailed off, clasping her hands together, trying to control her shallow breaths before she broke into a panic.

[Zenethil]

For a brief, fleeting moment, Zenethil had thought she was breaking the barrier in her mind. Or at least channelling her energies in a way that didn't break her down into a sobbing ball. For a brief moment. Then something in her mind broke down, like it always did, an involuntary barrier, caused by, most likely, pain, and suffering. Something she shut out. Something that refused to allow her to use her wonderful gift. The healing light faded, before a sharp pain caused him to clench his teeth together, hissing breath in through them. That was unexpected. He strode over to her, getting down on her knees, taking her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking gently at her delicate cheeks.

Don't worry. Don't worry, I'm not going to make you do anything. It's alright. You're safe here. Look at me Lorina.

His eyes found Lorina's, the worry, and the caring look in his eyes coming across. He hated it when this happened. Partially through the fact that it meant no progress in her tutelage. But mostly, because it clearly hurt her dearly. Lorina's magic was the most painful of ironies. She who was terrified of fire, had a natural affinity to controlling it.

I'm proud of you Lori. Look at me. I won't let anything hurt you.

He took her into a warm, caring embrace, a slight guilt gnawing at his mind. Why had he expected any different? His own, stronger sense of confidence responded. Because without the attempt, there can be no relief for her. Unfortunately, his desire to prevent any harm from coming to her prevented him from doing what some would argue needed to be done. Pushing her while she was vulnerable like this. But he could perhaps begin to break down the barrier. Perhaps. He looked at his hand, pleasantly surprised, before holding it up for Lorina to see.

Lorina. Look at my hand. You did that. You and your magic did that. A clean heal.

He smiled at her, pride coming back into his expression. It had been an otherwise successful attempt. Save for the panic.

[Lorina]

Acrid smoke seemed to fill her senses, and a glassy sheen had appeared in her blue eyes once again. Falling, falling, falling... The rush of fear and anxiety protected her from what would only cause her the most harm in the end, but no one else could sense that but her. Lorina began to hum to herself idly, barely registering the touch of her father's palms against her cold cheeks. What had she been doing again? Oh, yes, practicing her magic like she had been asked to do. While her body had felt so overheated before, now a startling chill had settled over her. So much better than the warmth of fire, because the cold numbed everything in it's path, and why could she have not held an affinity for ice? She should be listening to her father right now, but his words sounded so muffled and distant--like her sister's had been that night...

Lorina suddenly found herself flung from that errant memory, forgetting it as her father's words soon registered within her mind. A small smile crossed her lips at his assurances, but he did not really mean them. Oh, no, she knew her father would do anything to keep her safe, but this would happen again. Practicing magic was not so hard, and it was fun when she really did concentrate, but he would always attempt to have her control the one thing she could not. The chill was a soothing feeling, lulling her away from those forgotten memories. It was so much easier to forget; although, her cat would not agree with her. What did he know? Nonsensical riddles and a floating grin that gave little comfort. "Oh, but you will, won't you, father? I have to learn, but you won't like what I'll become," she murmured, her voice distant and her words vague. Oh, but no one really heeded her warnings in the end, and Lorina was resigned to that simple truth.

She leaned into his embrace easily, azure eyes staring off into the distance wearily. Her body felt so heavy and numb, and a languid tiredness filled her. How she wanted to sleep like the cat, but outside was hardly the right place. Perhaps under a toadstool would be better, but there were none in sight to be found. Her humming dimmed, and Lorina turned thoughtful eyes onto her father's hand. Perhaps, but the skin was an angry red from the searing flame she had cast. If it made him happy, then she was content with the brief loss of control. "Yes, I suppose I did. If only the fire could heal me as well," she replied with a wistful sigh. Her usual airiness had returned, and a serene smile flitted upon her lips in response to his own.

[Zenethil]

There was something about the way she hummed, seemed to tune out of the world around her, that un-nerved Zenethil more than any horror of war ever could. The way that the glass-like sheen filled her eyes so suddenly, the way she just shut down. As though the fire she had summoned simply burned out her senses, and sealed her mind shut, just as she had cauterized his wound. The bright red stood out against his pale flesh, but he ignored this, as concern filled his eyes. There had to be something he could do to stop this from happening... He knew the simple answer. Leave her be. Allow her to never use her magic again. But he could not allow that. Would it truly solve the problem, considering natural fire had the exact same effect upon her?

Then she spoke. An almost ethereal, sinister quality to her tone shook him somewhat. He had never heard her speak like that. And the words she spoke... They chilled his soul. As a man of faith, he took great stock in prophecy and matters of the soul. Something dark within her mind had spoken. Not little Lori, the girl who was terrified of fire. This was a whole other entity. A whole different side. Or perhaps, the ravings of a catatonic girl. Either way, the words rocked him, as much as the way she snapped back from her cut-off state again, back to her almost-usual self.

He held on to her tightly as she quieted her humming, that almost disturbing humming, as though if he let go, she would evaporate. This had been possibly the worst episode he had personally witnessed. And yet, her next words gave him pause for thought. They reminded him of a man who had been brought into the cathedral when he was a child. Couldn't stand to be around women. They discovered afterwards that a Gerudo woman had captured him, brought him back, and he'd been enslaved. He never spoke of the matter, even after they made him confront his fears. But after the confrontation, and several days of recuperation following the ordeal, he was a functioning man again. He looked at her, his smile reassuring.

Perhaps it can, Lori. Perhaps it can. But not today. I think you've been through enough for now. Now Lorina. What would you like to do? I think it's time that you decided what we should do.

He smiled, the pangs of guilt biting into him. He'd caused her pain. Not intentionally, but nonetheless, he had caused them. The least he could do was try and make it up to her, in some small way, even as he thought on how best to break through her mental block.

[Lorina]

Lorina knew her own mind so very well, and that her fantasies were vast and intricate in a way that often had her father and sister worried. As wonderful as her dreams and dream-friends were, she knew how carefully she tread the line between her remaining sanity and what awaited her when she eventually fell. Already vague memories would plague her each time Zenethil had her attempt to face her one fear, but no one understood. Forgetting is so convenient, but she could not avoid her past forever, could she? In her mind she could see the cat's eerie grin, and his parting words from her last dream. "Forgetting pain is convenient. Remembering it is agonizing, but recovering the truth is worth the suffering," she murmured. She was hardly aware she had spoken her thoughts aloud, but she knew the advice to be true. She simply refused to follow it. It was her mind, no? Hers to rule and hers to command.

Lorina did not mind that her father was holding onto her more tightly, because he needed to believe that she would not disappear from his grasp. It had happened often enough, and the young woman knew that her fragile mentality often had him worried. Lorina thought her reaction this time had been much better than her last, because she had not fallen into a completely panicked and shrieking state. Was that not progress? Perhaps not, because she could see the worry and apprehension that lingered within his eyes and his tense form. "I'll be fine for today. I'm still myself," she reassured sweetly. No promised for tomorrow or the future, because she could only be certain of the present. Lying was a fool's game, and Lorina certainly was no fool.

Her head tilted to the side, curiosity flickering within her azure eyes. What did she want to do? Oh, if only there was enough time in the day to go over each and every thing. She eased away from his embrace, clasping her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth upon her heels. "Oh, I think I could go for a spot of tea. Hatter mentioned I should try camomile to calm my mind, but I think green is just as good for that," she answered, voice taking on her more dreamy quality. A distant smile formed upon her lips, and she glanced up at her father fondly. Oh, yes, she should not mention the friends of her dreams often. Giggling to herself, she continued to rock upon her heels as if she had said nothing out of the ordinary, which she had not in her mind.

[Zenethil]

Still, he worried about some of the things she seemed to say without her realising it. She seemed, inwardly, to recognise exactly what her soul, her mind, her sanity needed. And yet still, she fought against it. It frustrated him. Tormented and. And yet, at the same time, filled him with hope. It wasn't, as he had thought, he against Lorina. It was he against Lorina's fear. But it didn't allay his anxieties at her bizarre action. He said nothing, pretending he heard nothing, continuing to look into her eyes.

He was, however, relieved that she was 'herself'. In that she was lucid. But he hardly thought that she was 'herself'. Lorina's true self was a vivacious, bubbly and enthusiastic young girl, firmly grounded in reality. This? This mentally shattered wreck, that worried him so often? With her talk of invisible friends? This was not the Lorina he remembered her as. He smiled anyway, nodding once, before standing up once again, Lorina having slipped out from his embrace. He watched as she rocked on her heels. He smiled briefly. She looked so... Normal, when she did that.

Tea? That can be arranged. We'll head home first. The night's starting to turn cold.

He glazed over her mention of 'The Hatter'. Well, outwardly he did. Inwardly, he despaired. Her imagination so often crossed over into her reality. He guided her back towards his home. Their home. Inside, where it was considerably warmer, he began to boil water, contemplating her earlier words. Perhaps he ought to bring them up. He sat down upon his chair, across from her. He looked at her intently.

You keep mentioning... Other people when you speak. Who are they?

Perhaps getting her to talk about it would open up her mind a little bit. Perhaps. Or possibly just worry him more. At this point, he wasn't sure of anything concerning Lorina.

[Lorina]

Lorina was saddened that her usual persona was not the one her father wanted, but she was content with who she was. If only everyone around her could accept her for who she was, but she knew that her imperfections were too vast and too clear to ignore. At times she wished she could rid herself of her phobia of fire, but what would she become? The memories were so much easier forgotten, and she feared that she would cease to be once her mind was left raw to the hidden recollections. Her sister would allow her to remain as she was, but not her father. No matter how much she begged and plead with him, his mind would not change regarding her mental state. Nairore was the daughter to be proud of, and yet she allowed herself to remain as the insane daughter everyone was hesitant to be around for more than a few moments. A heaviness settled within her heart, but she still smiled serenely as she always did. Change was coming soon, and Lorina would simply have to bear through the suffering of what would eventually happen.

"Yes, father," she murmured in agreement. It was a little chilly, but so much better than the heat. Even in her usual white dress, Lorina did not shiver at the change in weather. Lorina followed after her father quietly, blue eyes taking in the open scenery before she was indoors for the night. The temperature contrast caused her to shiver for a moment as she stepped inside, which she only did when stepping into a warmer setting. The cold suited her better than the heat for some reason. Slipping into her usual seat, Lorina clasped her hands together and placed them upon her lap primly. The picture of a demure and polite maiden, but her eyes had glassed over as she slipped into her daydreams, waiting for her father to finish the tea. The scratch of the chair being pulled out startled her from her brief reverie, and she blinked as she took in her father's sudden question. Her slim frame tensed, unaccustomed to him asking about her imaginings and dreams.

Lorna was silent, and her startling lucid gaze slid onto her father. Did he truly wish to know? She studied him for a moment, almost as if searching through his eyes for any secrets of his own. The silence was stretching, and soon she was staring upward as if her uneasy gaze had meant nothing at all. "Friends from dreams that have been with me since before I can remember. Dreams I shared with my older sister from before the fire," she explained. A sadness filled her as she thought of her first sister, but she carefully steered clear of thinking too much upon Angelica. Memories lead to others, and she did not want to remember just yet. "Shards of who I am, have been, and will be. Or perhaps not at all? I cannot decide," she explained. Lorina smiled to herself, knowing her answer would not alleviate his worries at all.

[Zenethil]

The glassy-eyed look in her eyes stood as a sharp contrast to the picture of the perfect young Hylian woman, who sat so peacefully. While she likely was at peace with herself, the lack of focus in her eyes made her seem as distant as ever. As though she were lost in her own fictitious scenery. Fortunately, she seemed able to snap herself into reality when he spoke to her. At the very least, she still grasped where the imaginary ended, and the real began. She did, however, seem to choke up, if only slightly, at the mention of her deceased blood sister. Angelica. Another sweet girl. A tragedy, amongst tragedies. And Lorina was the worst tragedy of all. The survivor, who had not truly survived.

What she had said made some sense in his mind. When he had been a healer for the Knights, as part of his training he had dealt with those who had suffered great hardships. Frequently, they clung to memories of people they had lost. Or of events that had preceded them. One fully grown man had cast himself so deeply into the memory of his childhood, he had actually returned himself mentally to being an eight year old. Memories of people he knew had vanished. Including those of his three children. It had been a terrible thing to witness. But by helping him to remember these things, he had recovered, if slowly. He was now living life to the full, discharged from service, almost guaranteed to grow old. And on this, he thought. While she thought it would not help, inwardly, it gave him relief. At least they weren't complete figments, dragged out of nowhere. There was attachment.

I see. Do they speak to you often? Or is it mostly in your dreams?

He continued, trying to find out more of her curious ailment, standing up, before going to pour out the tea. Green for Lorina, as she had requested by 'The Hatter's' suggestion, as eerie as that sounded, and a regular brew for himself. He carried the two plain cups through, placing his down on the table next to his chair, passing the other to her gently, a smile on his lips, if not one with great conviction.

Here Lorina. You asked for green tea.

[Lorina]

Lorina was unsure if her answer had helped at all, and she felt a little nervous about what the outcome would be if her father went through with his plans. He was doing it in what he believed was her best interested, but what if he was wrong? She would lose so much more than just her remaining sanity, and it would be the world that had been her own for so many years. A world that contained who she was, and each and every facet of what her personality could be. What if she turned into someone that no one liked, or something so much worse than how she was now? No one understood at all, and Lorina longed to beside Nairore as the moment. Her quirks did not bother her elder sister, and she accepted all she was in stride. How could she fight it? Her words held no weight to anyone, and she knew of what would happen to her in the end. She unclasped her hands, carefully removing her sharpened nails that had been pressing into her delicate skin. Oh, at least she had not drawn blood, but she had not even realize she had been digging her nails into her palms.

"My dreams, or whenever they feel the need to leave me advice. They've been with me from even before the fire, and they do not cause me any harm," she explained, a pleading note in her voice. It was not the whole truth, because some did mean her harm. Such as the Queen that reflected all of the ugliness and cruelty in her past and heart. She knew he was trying to gain more answers from her, but it was not as easy as making her face her fears. Remembering would shatter her world, and Lorina would rather continue as she was. Walking a fine line, but one she knew and could control. If only she had not talent in magic, then this would not be a problem, but why did she had to use her magic? She was not a fighter, and her usual distant demeanor was shattered for the moment. She merely watched somberly as her father poured the tea from the whistling kettle.

Lorina grasped the mug he has passed to her with trembling hands. The tea would soothe her mind as Hatter had explained various times, and she had to keep calm and serene. Turmoil only made things worse for her. The liquid would be scalding, but Lorina drank the tea hastily. It burned her mouth and tongue, but she did not wince from the pain. It kept her on edge, and she did not take up as much space if she kept herself on edge. Burning, burning, burning. Lorina had finished half the contents of the mug, and she set it down quietly. Over the years she had desensitized herself to mild pain, and it was a strange comfort to her. "I have no choice, do I?" she asked quietly.

[Zenethil]

Her pleading tone tortured him immensely. Perhaps it was better to leave her, as her fragile, but seemingly content self? Perhaps he was causing more harm than he was alleviating? Or ever would alleviate? In all his years, he had never witnessed anything that caused him such great pain. He wanted her to live life to it's fullest. But he didn't want her to resent him. And though she was docile now, would that be the case if he pushed her? If she snapped? What if the end result was worse than the current Lorina, the same Lorina that everyone loved, but couldn't bear to be around. He looked at her, the concern in his eyes mixed with uncertainty.

Oh I don't doubt they don't cause you harm. They've kept you with us all this time. I'm sure that if they wanted to harm you, they would have done so by now.

It sounded odd to be talking about her mental creations as a tangible thing that affected her, but they were a very real thing to her troubled mental state. That she acknowledged them as fiction, he wasn't sure was a state that showed she was in control, or whether she was slipping further into her own delirium, where fantasy and reality blurred together into a terrific mess. He watched her trembling hands lift the cup to her lips, drinking deeply. The slight pain was evident in her features. Pain that many would be unable to bear. But for some reason, she seemed to take willingly, as though that pain alleviated her own struggles. He frowned slightly, reaching out a hand, his hand exuding a soothing light that caressed her throat, her mouth.

Somewhat uniquely amongst healers, his healing seemed to suit the person in question's ailments best. Those suffering from burns would be cooled. Those who were hypothermic would be warmed. For Lorina, she would feel the gentle, cooling sensation, to counteract the burning sensation she must have felt. The small frown on Zenethil's lips faded into a look of slight concentration, before his eyes fluttered open, gently nodding his head.

Lorina, if there is any concept in this world that I hold dear, it is that there is always a choice. It is simply a matter of finding the right decision. I simply wish you to know that all of your options are open. I know you suffer. Though you exist in a state of limbo, where most of the time you are, though distracted, in control of yourself and your fears, they still grip you tightly.

He paused for a moment, before uttering the same words she had earlier, hoping to appeal to her inner desire to unshackle herself from her mental prison.

Forgetting pain is convenient. Remembering it is agonizing, but recovering the truth is worth the suffering.

[Lorina]

Lorina knew that it was not enough, even if she begged and cried and threw a tantrum. It was not in her demeanor to do so, and so she merely stayed quiet. Losing her mind was something she was scared of of very much, and she dreaded the idea of losing her inner world. It was colorful and alive in a way that had been absent much of the past few years of her life. The fire had taken everything from her, and this was all she had left. Who would she become without it? She knew she was using her fear as both a crutch and an answer. She knew what she had to knew, but giving up her one control felt so terrifying. Fear of the unknown, and what she vaguely knew would happen. A part of her longed to rage and let loose the control she gripped so tightly to remain herself, but it would merely prove his reasoning right. Without Underland, then who was she? Her own family was uncomfortable to be around her, and a guilt gnawed at her with the thought. If only she could cut herself completely from reality, then Lorina could do as she pleased. What would the cost be, though?

"I fear what will happen to me. I've never been anyone but who I am now, and remembering will change me. I know it will, but will I truly be the better for it? All of them have a piece of me, but which piece will be the bigger? Which one will everyone see then?" she asked, her nervousness causing her to ramble. Lorina bit the inside of her cheek for a moment, feeling that familiar panic beginning to bubble within her. Changed, different, new. Perhaps it would be for the best, since no one appeared to be comfortable with who she was now. The young woman believed that was what hurt the most. They loved her, but not enough to accept her as she wholly was. Or were her desires selfish? Lorina could not be sure any longer, and her eyes went blank. There was no use in fighting the inevitable, and she simply stared at her father with a quiet acceptance. A deadness that had not been present since she had first been rescued from the fire. Perhaps the one that held the biggest piece of her would be better in the end, and she would try to believe in that.

The cooling sensation of his healing was a comfort, but the pain kept her on edge. Now all she felt was a numbness that gave her no edge to fight and resist. A doll-like gaze rested upon her father as he spoke again, and Lorina knew it was futile to attempt to change his mind. Perhaps she had choices, but he had already made his. Where did that leave her in the end? She blinked slowly as he spoke the words of that damnable cat, and she knew in an instant who she would become. Part of her wished to remember and be free, but there was comfort in ignorance. A luxury she would no longer be afforded. "Alright, father," she murmured distantly, her tone and gaze listless. Her permission to do as he wished, because Lorina knew what her end and beginning would entail. The truth had been buried lone enough. Let them all know, and be prepared for what the consequences of their actions would lead to in the end. A sinister flicker passed through her eyes, but it was brief.