chevaleros | 7rings: harrow

[ She's back to staring at the wall of their room, staring out at nothing. And there isn't as much shame or regret in her expression as there should be, a conflicted look in her eyes before she blinks over at Harrow. ]

I do.

[ She lets out a humorless puff of laughter. ]

The fact that I could even forget her... [ Awful. It's awful of her. ] In any case—as you can see, I've taken some extreme measures in the past. I would bet that almost everyone here has.

[Vira's lack of regret only makes her more curious - it's not really manipulation or betrayal that makes Harrow assume Vira would but just the fact that it's. Such a desperate and reckless plan. Even if she doesn't fully understand it, it seems so - unlike the calm and collected Vira she knows. But do any of them really know all there is to each other?]

Certainly. You know that I have.

. . . Is your wish for her sake?

[ She has, generally speaking, glazed over the exact details of her wish since coming here. But after a moment, she answers. ]

It's for my own sake, if anything. I wanted for nothing to stand between us ever again. I know it sounds juvenile, but it is my wish all the same.

[ She is not ashamed of it, though there's a bit of uncertainty. ]

...What all do you hope to accomplish here, Harrowhark? From all that I've seen, you already seem to have power and status.

[ She knows those aren't the only motivations out there, and doesn't expect Harrow's wish to be simple, but viewing her memories, she's left curious. ]

It doesn't sound juvenile. I couldn't judge your wish.

[She doesn't really hesitate to answer - she hasn't told many people what hers is, but Vira isn't one of the people she minds knowing.]

This may sound odd, but I don't know what my wish is. [. . .] The Lyctoral process was difficult for me. It took me many months to convalesce, after that battle with Cytherea. It was at some point during that process that I agreed to this. When I regained coherence, I could recall agreeing, but not why.

At some point in my convalescence, I suppose I also . . . [she sounds kind of confused here]. . . anticipated that there would later be gaps in my recollection. I wrote a series of letters to myself with instructions to follow. I know it was me who wrote them - they were written in my personal cipher, in my own blood. They accurately predicted that my Lyctorhood would be a failure, that I would be unable to complete the consumption of my cavalier's soul, and instead set forth guidelines to follow to keep me alive and to keep me from interfering in some vague "work" I had intended to accomplish.

So it is something of a mystery to me, as well, aside that my wish likely relates to that "work." I suppose it must seem ridiculous, to follow vague instructions in a letter simply because they were written in my own hand.

[ It explains a bit of what's happened so far. Not that Vira can really admit as much without causing Harrow to faint, but she shakes her head gently. ]

..No. [ it's not ridiculous, considering how Vira makes her choices in life ] If anything, I would encourage you to follow your heart. You may not remember everything that's happened in your past, but you are still forged from those moments. If you listen to your instinct... your feelings, then I think that is direction enough.

[ Harrow didn't seem to be aware of her own memories, but she still shared a certain empathy borne from her forgotten past. ]

Still, it must be difficult, not knowing.

[Does it? Vira's probably smart enough to pick up on how it very much seems like Harrow's current fucked up memories are something she, at some point, knew would happen to her, and to speculate from there. But Harrow can't really concentrate on these details or put them together; it gives her a headache when she tries.]

In some ways, I think it's easier. I have always done my duty to the Ninth. Now I do my duty to my own self, fulfilling the bargain that was made. I never have to doubt whether it was worth it, or fear losing my chance.

[. . .]

Despair has said that they can do something to correct the problem with my memories. I've been trying to decide whether it's a good idea or not.

[ She's seen enough pieces that she can put together a rough idea. And she looks a little conflicted, resting her fingers against her cheek in thought for a moment. ]

...Why hesitate? If I may ask.

Ah. Two reasons, one strategic and one personal.

[She sighs, thoughtful for a moment. It would be nice not to have random brain aneurysms? But.]

During my convalescence I was in a state of. . . despondency, as great as I have ever known. [And given she was suicidal at the age of ten, that's saying something.] I was afflicted with phantom emotions I could hardly understand, but it kept me bedridden, useless. Eventually it gave way to a sort of productive numbness. I think it is only in the past few weeks that I have begun to feel something like my old self again.

I fear reopening a wound that will leave me in a state where I can be of no help to anyone here. I suppose it would be productive for despair indulgence, but little else.

And I also. . . [She looks down at her hands, as though trying to remember something.]

The letter I wrote myself. My own instructions were clear not to try to fix it. It was said in a way which was - compelling to me, I suppose.

[She'll recite, from memory: ]

"Understand that I envy you more than I have ever envied anyone, and that I look upon your birth as a blessing. Look upon me as a Harrowhark who was handed the first genuine choice of our lives; the only choice ever given where we had free will to say, No, and free will to say, Yes. Accept that in this instance I have chosen to say, No."

7rings: harrow

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