Tales of a Child Eternal [NSFW]

[Helene Dakesh]

A deep breath. Another. Instinctively, they reach out to take his hand, longing for the calming effect of holding hands. Finally, they come up with, "Dream-taken. Tulwath. This one. Similarities."

[Tethras Clan]

Varric pauses a moment, tightly gripping their hand. "I... yeah, you're not wrong. Your... condition does seem to have a lot in common with how tulwath- or at least Mia- seem to process.. trauma. Or possibly having their natured changed," he says slowly, working out the reasoning as he goes.

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one is not defective," they whisper, but it's not a sure statement -- it feels tentative, hesitant, still a hypothesis.

[Tethras Clan]

"Having outsider blood could explain it. Not sure how that works with being samsaran but... I mean Haliel is distinctly pavitrian in her mindset so it can clearly have those sorts of effects," Varric theorizes. "We'll have to do some serious research, try and find accounts and records of other tulwath that have suffered similar conditions as Mia. I mean, not the changing thing, just... trauma and such."

[Helene Dakesh]

"T-true. Th-this one... perhaps... perhaps this one has... perhaps this one has a purpose that, if this one... if this one were to achieve, this one would struggle less..."

[Tethras Clan]

"More than your serving Alydra?" Varric points out gently. "If it's anything related to this idea, I suspect it's because of the... conflict between outsider and mortal minds and natures. Still, if you can find out coping methods tulwath use... Might help."

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one... this one will contact... a friend," they say slowly. "This one... will seek guidance."

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene dreamed. 

No matter what was happening during the day, no matter how tormented and bewildered they were by the requests made of them, nothing could taint their dreams. In their dreams, they didn't have to put things into words -- they could just experience them, could immerse themself in the logic of the dream and let go of the pressure to perform, to be quiet and still and obedient. 

Lately, they had dreamed of wolves. Black wolves and white wolves, back and forth, in a series of ever-changing forests. Today, however, they had a new dream: a duck pond, swans, a tree on a little hill. 

[NPCs]

Next to them, a quiet figure in soft white robes sits with closed eyes. Unspeaking, they offer a bag filled with bits of dried bread. Their breathing is slow, regular, almost as if asleep but they have a smile on their wrinkled, walnut colored face. 

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene stills, coming to themself with a start. They stare down at the bag, taking a long moment to process the context. There's not a script for this; what should they do, how do they interact in a positive way?

The ducks. Feeding the ducks.

They take the bag, then, relieved, their mind frantically loading a script for feeding ducks. The worst scripts were the ones for starting conversations: which small talk was appropriate for which situation, which openings would work on which people. Absently, they reach into the bag, tossing some bread to the swans, still silent, looking for the right greeting. What time of day was it? Did they know the proper term of address? Was this person best addressed in Common? Elven? 

[NPCs]

"At times, there is no wrong answer," they murmur gently. "This is not a test, nor a trial. Relax and be yourself."

[Helene Dakesh]

Oddly, that doesn't seem to help. It's not that they don't believe the entity, that this is not a test; on the contrary, their relief feeds directly into the processing, making them feel all the more urgently that they need to answer correctly.

One of the variables has been solved for, however: they hear the entity in Common, and so, it is in Common that they respond. "You are very gracious," they say, as they have been taught is appropriate when being given concessions for their... impairments. "How may this one serve?" That's not the next line of the script -- they grab it from another script, one for being of use to authority figures. 

[NPCs]

"How do you wish to serve? If you had the choice of any task or duty, what would you give yourself?" The tone is soft, faintly curious, and very gentle. A light breeze picks up, rippling the pond and filling the air with the scent of honeysuckle and clean mud.

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene goes still, absolutely still, their hand frozen near the top of the bag, their breath catching in their throat. An infinity of choices unfolds before them: a terrifying landscape of unbounded possibility, with no guideposts or signs to mark the way. An ocean, churning and wine-dark, a tempest on the horizon, and they cannot get their bearings, they have no boat, only a small bit of wood to cling to to prevent drowning altogether. They cannot, will not, choose. To take so much as a step in one direction is to close the door on an eternity of other options. And yet, they must, for they are being asked to make a decision and they cannot find a way to do it. They feel a keening building in their throat, but they clamp down on it, refusing to make that noise, refusing to rock or flinch or flap their hand, desperate to keep control over their body, desperate to maintain proper conduct, but that just makes the choices all the more terrifying, all the more boundless...

Alydra. It's a bolt of lightning in the midst of this feedback loop: they recognize this pond, this person, this situation. Alydra. The scent of honeysuckle, the feel of an affectionate pat on the head, a soft smile that expects nothing, the joy of discovery, the satisfying click as the numbers fall into place and solve for a complicated mathematical expression. Alydra. Their answer is Alydra.

Too bad they can't figure out how to put that into words correctly.

[NPCs]

Oh dear. That was not... Ah... How do I... "Inhale. Taste the scent of water and earth. Close thy eyes. Exhale. Purge the body of worry and doubt. Feel the warmth of the sun above. Inhale. Note the bounty of the blossoms around us. Remember who you are. Exhale. Hear the wind bestir the air and pond. Now speak thy choice and know it is right because it is your choice, just as THEY-THAT-IS-ALYDRA wills." Please work, please work, please work...