【♞】It is not often that Christian Aldemar wakes so late in the day. How long had it been since he had slept so long? Not even a single time rises to the surface of his memory -- and what a deep and dark pool of memories it is...! Distant drops of remembrance plunk plunk plunk one by one, and that still expanse of calm water ripples infinitely in every conceivable direction...
How many years had it been since he dreamt of his mother? Of his father? Were those faces bubbling up from the depths even their own? Could he even remember the strong line of his father's jaw, the pleasant slope of his mother's cheek, the feeling of scruff against his tiny face when Father collected him into his arms, or the way Mother's mouth curved up just so at the corner when she smiled at him...?
Should this not be she, he supposes... this is how a mother ought to have looked, had he committed their features to memory.
Dark and dimly lit... but not so devoid of light. For in those six years there had been--
--Sunlight.
Just the thought of it would be enough to turn his stomach on this occasion, this time when he wakes greeted by a persistent throb in his head. Perhaps he vaguely recollects drifting in and out of wakefulness since...
Wait. Since when...? All he can remember is--
❝ ... Lady Venus... ❞