On the night before the Wayfarers would depart for Terminal One...
Bellatrix was having a dream she should not be having.
Battered by wind and rain, she stood in a mist-covered silhouette of a forest, a place she hadn't seen since her arrival to Forlas:
its domain. The fact that something felt
different escaped her. In an instant, the
one thing that had given her absolute solace during her time on Forlas had been ripped away from her. Here she was again,
it had found her and
dragged her back to this godsforsaken forest, even in another world.
After all this time accumulating boons on Forlas, after finding a, now false, sense of security, after
everything, she was still
powerless against
its whims. Survival instincts abandoned her as Bellatrix let out a frustrated wail, clumsily striking a nearby tree.
She turned to march to find a place to hide, a way out,
anything but the moment she whipped herself around, Bellatrix found her breath hitching and heart stopping as she found herself face to face with the shade she was all-too-familiar with; a featureless behemoth that stood on four spindly legs defined only by its ringed white eyes and the flecks of red crystal within its long neck – similar to Bellatrix's own gems – simultaneously stygian and blinding. Bellatrix pressed her back against the dented tree, finding herself unable to look it in the eyes.
"Why?" she demanded, voice strained. "Why are you here?"
The sound of claws grinding against bark filled Bellatrix's ears and then she felt a clawed hand grab her by the neck, lifting her off her feet. A strangled gasp escaped her windpipe as she tried to bat the shade's limb away from her, trying to
make it let her go. The shade, in reply, stared at her with cold indifference. It raised her higher and higher, grip tightening and threatening to draw blood, and
slammed her into the tree and onto the ground.
In that moment, Bellatrix's thoughts raced,
It's a dream, it's a dream, it's just a dream— yet despite her hasty reassurances, it was the first time since arriving to Forlas that Bellatrix feared for her life. Dazed, she felt herself being overtaken by a deep chill as the shade and the black forest enveloped her, pushing her deeper and deeper into the dream. Before she knew it, everything had vanished and Bellatrix found herself descending into a murky abyss. Drowning.
Her last remaining bit of strength faded and Bellatrix could only look upon her surroundings with half-lidded eyes.
It's just like then, she thought. Just like her oldest memory, the time she had been summoned to Kythra.
The last time she had ever known peace.
How? How did it ever come to this? Bellatrix was convinced that she would never find out.
Lower and lower she sank and the water surrounding her began to part and Bellatrix had found herself on solid ground. What had been the ocean was soon reduced to a spray of rising droplets.
On all sides, she was surrounded by walls of water that ascended into nothingness; it was clear and reflective despite its constant flow.
Bellatrix felt a pull, a draw to look within the reversed waterfalls but the moment she looked was the moment that she realised that she was no longer herself. She reeled. In the ghostly zoroark's place stood the shade, challenging her wide-eyed stare with one of its own as if taunting her. But before she had the chance to process anything, black drops of water fell from above.
The droplets struck Bellatrix and it burned. It burned like the heart of a raging inferno, like the freezing winds of an unforgiving blizzard. Just as Bellatrix cried out in agony, a vision flashed in her mind—
A young, silver-haired girl with a hardened glare stands between her older and younger sister. The girl wants something, she doesn't know what, and she is going to get it
.
More of what could only be assumed to be
memories followed with each passing drop...
Father, leaning over a table, rubs his brow with a weary sigh. He says something but the girl, now a teenager, does not listen.
A woman with long, silver hair smacks her superior's desk with her palm demanding them to find h̴i̴m̴,̶ f̷̝͂ỉ̷̯n̴̮̆d̵̜͋ ̸͓́h̶͓̃i̸͍̓m̷̗̈,̴̡̆ F̸͖̏̌̄I̶̢̥͙̎͠N̴̬̙͝͠D̵̾̄ͅ ̵̱̝̀ͅḦ̴̭̥̘́́Í̸̮M̴͔̈̈̅—̴̄͜
The woman, now middle-aged, thoughtlessly thanks a rescuer who had to call off their search. What a waste of effort.
Decades later the woman, now all alone, grows old and miserable. One day in winter, she wraps her thinning shawl around herself and departs for yet another of her evening walks...
...and then...
The woman – decades younger – stands beside a black-haired man on a beach, his messy hair is tied in a ponytail. The two are holding hands and the man leans in. "Best run back before anyone finds out about our little secret. See you soon, Mademoiselle," he whispers.
Bellatrix awoke with a start, panting and shivering. Her eyes darted around, and when she realised that she was back in the abandoned building she had elected to use as shelter while camping in Malantau.
Deep breaths, deep breaths.
She raised her arms to straighten her mane which had gotten itself into quite the mess with all the tossing and turning she must've been doing but as she did, Bellatrix noticed that they were covered in black, wispy shadows, the same ones that composed the shade; her
entire form was. Only her red gems were visible and they seemed to gleam brighter in this state.
Something had clearly shifted, even disregarding the obvious, she felt it deep within her. Was this that dream's doing? Or was that dream the symptom of something greater?
If only she knew.
Bellatrix learned Umbral Recollection!
Bellatrix stared at the ceiling for a while, dwelling on the memories that had revealed themselves to her. They had come to her so
easily, so
clearly and she felt like she could remember
more than what the dream showed her but before she could draw any more connections between them, the shadows dissipated leaving her memories lost in an impenetrable fog once more.
Bellatrix fell flat on her back, her arms splayed wide, with a small, frustrated hiss.
If she could only just remember.
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