☾ @soliiisortus : “ it’s not a dream , it’s a memory ” ☽ ALICE MADNESS RETURNS : accepting
Had such images, visions prettied with soft and sweetened words, come associated with slumber anyway, he wouldn’t have rejoiced any less than now. Fabrications of the mind or not, they could not be denied their vital usage: to alleviate a fatigued heart, to rest a weary soul maybe -- it was all that mattered to him anyways. At nights, sometimes, he too had dwelled in pretty imageries of a past not so distant from their days, and his newly accustomed everyday life. Now it felt all quite distant from his reality, Rosa’s tales being a gentle reminder of that.
For, from the day he had learned to wield the Dark Sword without being subdued to its shadows, his dreams had become less and less clear. As feeble as hallucinations found in far-away northern deserts, as immaterial as smoke rising from a fireplace -- a mere anguishing trail of pitch-black color to accompany Cecil in the mornings. Still, fortunately, there were times where said unspoken rule did revert, and where he did wander on happier images, happier thoughts. Most of them, indeed, happened to be memories; it was as she said: her amused tone at the clarification - a question he had posed way too suddenly, even - gave space to literally no doubts on the matter.
His gaze lifted upward, a silent wish such visions could bless his nights soon too, and more often once again. He lowered his tone next -- the soldiers’ common room in the west tower still packed with his comrades - either minding their business, or waiting for the sun to completely rise and bathe the space with light; ❛ Of course, it must be. They’re made just the same, memories and dreams, after all... ❜ he smiled, calmly. How peaceful had it to be, being blessed by moments of the past during one’s sleeping hours --
As busy as they all were, instants like those had to offer a surely warm and fond sensation. A look at her expression was enough for him to tell. The fact she had reached him to tell of her experience made him part of such felicity as well. After all, thinking back about his childhood, Rosa and Kain’s company never would have ceased to fill his very soul of serenity.
❛ I remember that episode well, too. The three of us got hold of a chocobo from the stables, all sat on its back and ran to the river mouth. We played with water till sunset... ❜ the thought wandered, placidly stopping at the image of the now absent, heartbroken friend. Ever since his lord father’s death, and his appointment as captain of the Dragoon knights, the veil of cold melancholy had yet to leave their dear childhood friend and chances to meet had become sporadic, to say the least. ❛ You should tell Kain of this vision as well. It’d make him happy to remember, I am sure of it-- ❜
