The days go by slowly, sometimes, even more so after Jimmy is gone. He finds himself missing the presence of his friend more and more as time passes, the letters they exchange not enough to fill the gaping, vacant hole in his chest. Jimmy had brought with him this sort of warmth - and he was a man who had never known it before. He is left craving the last ebbing traces of sunshine. To fill in the gaps, he writes. He talks to his crows, and now, he is singing his song. He does not notice the approaching of another person until he hears the cracking of a branch, and his voice comes to a trembling halt. Nobody had told him that they were coming. Is someone here to hurt him? It could be a surprise visit, but he doesn't want to assume.
The guitar is set aside, and he pulls out his sword with practiced ease. Why is it so easy? Why is it natural? What life has he lived before? And then, he waits. Waits for someone to come.
She steps into the clearing, eerily familiar, and yet a stranger all the same. Her long green hair, the black streaks in them, the eyes that are red - they are things that hold this sense of deja vu, in dreams that he scrambles to remember. He remembers the rain, the billboards, the neon signs - who was she? The woman that had been haunting his dreams for the past few weeks? He could get his answers now it seemed, because inexplicably, she is standing in front of him. Right up in the path that leads up to his house, she stands, hands shaking, eyes wide.
They hold eye contact. He opens his mouth to speak, to say something, anything - what's going on, why have you been in my dreams? But she speaks first.
"Lethe," she breathes, and-
("Lethe, soldier boy, you're gonna do me a favour-"
"Lethe, my most valiant knight, I beseech this of you-"
"Protect him with your life, Lethe-"
"Lethe, what are you up to?")
It's his name. His name, she knows him, she's known him from this before, this before, this thing he thought he almost might have not had. The thing he - Lethe! - has been searching for, for so long, she has come and she brings questions but an answer and she brings his name and his face opens into the widest smile he's had in so long.
"Is that my name?" He breathes, out loud, staring at her with wide eyes.
She frowns back at him. "What do you mean?" She says, and that excitement that had been on her face has now twisted into this confusion that makes Lethe's mouth go dry.
"I..." He tries to form a word, a sentence.
"Lethe, what do you mean, is that my name?" Her voice comes out sharper, now.
"I'm sorry, it's just - who are you?"
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