[SE] Piece of Mind

Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again,
this time more intelligently

Having heard of Alys's loss through the grapevine of Halo, Elizabeth made it a point to visit the seer on her next appointment in King's End. She'd sent a letter detailing the time and location to meet, hoping she might be up for a meeting with a friend. It was beyond her comprehension of what it must be like to lose a companion, but she'd helped many people navigate the steps of grief, finding ways to accept the reality and cope with that truth in whatever healthy way gave them relief. For some, it took a single conversation, letting them talk through their thoughts in order to release the finality of their loss and return to the rhythm of their life. For others, it took months of meetings and learning of skills in order to navigate their day-to-day selves, only finding a way to manage rather than move beyond. And for all, it took time. Time to process. Time to heal. 

Elizabeth wasn't sure what Alys's path would look like. All she knew was that she wanted to be there as a supportive friend during this difficult time. So as she stood looking over the water, she clutched her brown coat tighter around her to hide the small package underneath. Her hair hung loose, catching in the ocean breeze. Although the snowfall had graciously paused for the time being, the cold still nipped at her nose, flushing it to a light pink against the tan of her cheeks. Despite it all, she waited patiently, enjoying the sound of water crashing against the shore.

Elizabeth

and i'm still waiting for a life that never was

Alys was unaware of what others may or may not be hearing through the grapevine, nor did she particularly care. Life had been forever altered, and she didn’t know what to do or how to exist in the new reality in which she found herself.

Grief was an ever-present thing, pressing on her mind in every waking moment, an obsession that she couldn’t quite shake. Alys had always prided herself on strength of mind, but now she had to question whether she’d ever had it at all, so incapable was she of wresting away the control that her pain had over her. As much as she knew that Sascha would want her to go on living, the pain of the ursur’s loss had left her reeling for days and weeks on end. She didn’t know how to live in a world in which Sascha didn’t. It was that simple.

Still, she tried to go through the motions of day-to-day living, and that meant accepting Elizabeth’s invitation, however much she might have wanted to ignore it. Her friend was trying to help, and it was appreciated, even if Alys was dreading accepting the empty platitudes that would no doubt come her way. Thoughts and prayers would do nothing to bring her companion back to her.

When she arrived at the Boondocks, it was with little fanfare. Her clothes, haphazardly selected to provide the most warmth, hung loosely from a frame that had lost weight in recent weeks. There were deep circles beneath her haunted eyes, and her hair had been hastily tied back out of her face. The overall impression was one of dishevelment - a state that Alys had rarely found herself in, before, but now it seemed to be her new default.

She found Elizabeth along the shore, and stepped up next to her friend to survey the water - or at least to look like she was. In reality, she couldn’t have cared less to admire the view. ”Hey,” she said softly to Elizabeth, her voice gravelly from lack of use. Then she fell silent, unsure what to say or do now that she was here.

Alys

Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again,
this time more intelligently

Alys's approach reminded her of a ghost, floating without a physical connection to the world. She had half a mind to reach out and make sure that the seer was still part of their realm, rather than having perished with her companion. But grief looked different for people, and she didn't judge the darkness that framed her eyes. Instead, she gave a soft smile of greeting, reigning in the pity that would only serve to cheapen her attempts at sympathy. "Hi."

Keeping the package hidden beneath her thick coat, she let Alys have control of the conversation and where it would go. Whether she wanted to talk about it or spend time just hanging out, she would support her. All she said was, "I wanted to check in and see how you're doing." She didn't give false guarantees of things getting better or 'understanding' what she was going through, because she didn't. Elizabeth had never lost a companion or someone close to her. She couldn't comprehend the level of pain it caused, and she wouldn't insult Alys by assuming anything. As a friend, all she could offer was an open ear and a shoulder to cry on, should she want it.

Elizabeth

and i'm still waiting for a life that never was

It was a relief to be greeted by someone who didn’t offer the undercurrent of pity in their expression, and Alys offered a small, sad smile in return. Wrapping her arms around her middle and staring out at the water, she lamented the loss of the bond. Sascha had always hated getting wet, but she’d have liked to sit here and look out over the waves.

Would it ever fade, this feeling of loss? She’d often told people that time heals all wounds, but how could it when it felt as though her very heart had been ripped from her chest?

She was quiet for a time, lost in her grief and unsure how to answer Elizabeth’s question. It was easier to stay silent than it was to share her feelings - talking about them meant she had to think about them, and that meant she had to acknowledge all of the pain that she’d been working to avoid. It was better to be numb. Finally, though, she couldn’t bear the silence. It reminded her too much of the darkness where the bond had once shone brightly in her mind.

”I’ve been better,” she admitted. ”I keep thinking I’ll wake up, and it will have all been a nightmare.”

Alys

Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again,
this time more intelligently

Her head nodded to Alys's words. It was common in the 'denial' stage of grief to have difficulty accepting the reality. Elizabeth had heard it said in many ways: regret, hallucinations, false hope, false humor, numbness. Each experience was personal and difficult to get through. No words or reassurances would help. They had to get through the process in their own way. All she could do was look across the water, a sad smile upon her lips as she validated the seer. "That must be hard." Because losing someone was never easy, and until the mind was able to accept it, life would continue to drag, thoughts wrapped in the struggle of perceiving reality. 

Elizabeth couldn't lie about things getting better or predict what Alys's healing journey would look like, but sometimes it helped to remember the good things. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she kept her eyes out to the water, if only to alleviate any pressure to answer her question or allow some semblance of privacy for any resulting emotions. Her voice was soft and gentle as she said, "I didn't know Sascha well. Would you tell me about her?" If Alys looked to the therapist, she would see nothing but genuine sadness and compassionate interest. Should she decline to answer, there would be no judgement or frustration, just calm acceptance. But should she choose to open up, Elizabeth would be more than happy to hear about the loved companion.

Elizabeth

and i'm still waiting for a life that never was

Being around Elizabeth was a relief. Alys had expected some level of pity, but she felt none of that from the therapist. After spending time only around herself and her partner - who was almost as heartbroken as she was over Sascha’s loss - the change in emotion was refreshing. ”I’ve never lost someone before,” Alys admitted in a whisper, as though this was something to be ashamed of. ”It’s… so much worse than I ever thought it could be.” Worse, perhaps, because Sascha had been a piece of Alys’s soul - a piece that now she would never get back.

At least Elizabeth didn’t offer empty platitudes. Alys appreciated that. Instead, the therapist surprised her by asking about Sascha. The seer paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. ”I found her on the tundra. I just had a feeling one day that I was supposed to go out in the snow, and there she was. Her mother had been killed by a bigger ursur, and as soon as I saw her, it just - clicked. The bond, I mean.

“She was always a little wary of new people, but she was the most amazing little bear when she got to know someone. I always used to tease her that she was more like a dog than an ursur - but that’s probably because Boreal helped raise her.” A small smile tugged at the corners of Alys’s mouth. ”But she was a little like a cat, too. She hated the water. Not - looking at it, like this, but going into it?” Alys shook her head. ”I always had to bribe her to get through bathtime.”

Alys

Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again,
this time more intelligently

Elizabeth smiled softly, offering some small piece of solace. "There's no way to prepare for it. Each loss has to be mourned in its own way." Because even if Alys had lost a hundred people before, no connection was the same, and they all held different personal memories and emotions. Additionally, knowing that death was imminent didn't exclude the grief process. It may start earlier, but the death would be felt all the same.

Her eyes finally looked to Alys as she spoke of Sascha, listening with compassion and respect. She felt honored to hear their story. Elizabeth felt her warm expression shift between gentle openness and genuine amusement as tales of the ursur's difficult beginning and personality quirks unfurled. Unwilling to interrupt the natural progression of words, she waited until the appearance of the seer's tender smile before encouraging her to lean into the positive memories with a soft, joking comment. "I imagine she was quite the handful when it rained." If Alys turned to look, she'd find no attempt to diminish the moment, only a lightness that might give her the strength to continue.

Elizabeth

and i'm still waiting for a life that never was

Alys clung to the calm that Elizabeth offered, holding onto the comfort that she felt in her magic as she nodded. The therapist was right; there would have been no way to prepare. Even if she’d known it was coming, nothing would have given her the chance to prepare for the hole in her soul where the bond with Sascha had once been.

She spoke of Sascha at length, grateful for Elizabeth’s quiet presence at her side. She had thought about her companion a great deal in the aftermath of the yeti battle, but she hadn’t been thinking of all the good things so much as she’d been lamenting the loss. It was strangely healing to tell someone of Sascha’s little quirks and mannerisms - the things that had always made her smile.

”When she was little, she would run around in the rain and splash in the puddles,” Alys mused. ”But as she got older… I used to joke that she was worried about it messing up her fur.” Alys laughed, the first such sound that had come from her lips in the time since Sascha’s death. It surprised her, and she stopped quickly, suddenly guilty for having felt something akin to amusement when her companion was dead in the ground.

Alys

Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again,
this time more intelligently

The laughter gave Elizabeth comfort. Even as it faded with the ocean breeze, it was a sign that not all memories were tinged with darkness. A sign that healing was more than just a distant hope. She didn't hide the accompanying joy for her friend, although she dampened it as the energy shifted. Her voice was soft and soothing as she gave Alys a sad, encouraging smile. "It's okay to laugh."

Dipping her head in respect, Elizabeth looked back out to the ocean. She embodied the gentle rise and fall of the water, letting it soothe the pain of the conversation as she reassured her friend, "It doesn't mean you loved her any less." The words may be cliche, but it doesn't make them any less true. She continues to support Alys, hoping that her words might provide comfort. "If anything, laughter is the perfect way to honor the memory of such a bright, joyful companion. It lets people know and remember her as vibrant and full of life, because you give her life." This time, her smile was a shade lighter, giving the seer permission to feel happy within her grief.

Elizabeth

and i'm still waiting for a life that never was

Elizabeth’s emotions were easier to focus on than her own, even as they mirrored the seer’s. Joy mingled with sadness, not only for Sascha’s loss, Alys felt, but for Alys herself and the pain she was experiencing. ”Is it?” she asked, laughing once more, but this time it was a hollow, pitiful thing that sounded nothing like the true laughter of the moment before. Despite Elizabeth’s words, she couldn’t help but feel like laughing meant letting go of some of her mourning, and she wasn’t quite ready to do that.

It felt… like a betrayal, somehow, even if she logically knew that Sascha wouldn’t have wanted her to grieve like this forever. She thought she knew the little ursur well enough to know that she’d have wanted just enough sadness to prove she’d been loved - but then she’d have wanted Alys to keep on living. And living meant feeling all of her feelings, even the happy ones. Logically, that was all true. Emotionally, though… Alys just wasn’t prepared for complexity in her grief.

”Things just feel… empty, without her. And it’s… hard, being around people. Especially people with companions. Even with Tal, I -“ She cut herself off, swallowing hard. ”Sometimes I’m jealous,” she whispered, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she admitted to her darkest thoughts. ”I would never wish this on him, but I’m jealous that Boreal’s still here and Sascha isn’t. And then I’m horrified that I have those feelings, because it’s not me.”

Alys

Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again,
this time more intelligently

Elizabeth didn't immediately respond, letting Alys work though the twisting of her emotions. She could give the seer permission, but that didn't mean the laughter would come naturally. Until it did, Elizabeth would be a source of judgement-free comfort, encouraging every range of reactions from tears to screaming to laughter. It was all a part of the healing process. And she was happy to support her friend through that. 

She wasn't surprised to hear of the jealousy, recognizing the unfairness of the world. Perhaps one day companions wouldn't be a source of bitterness for her, but that wasn't something she could guarantee. Loss changed people in a myriad of unpredictable ways. Elizabeth simply nodded, smiling sadly at the truth. "It may not be what you're used to feeling, but grief is a different beast. It distorts emotions and elicits reactions that we wouldn't have in other circumstances. That's not a bad thing." Reaching out a gentle hand, she placed it reassuringly on Alys's shoulder. "That just means we're human." With human emotions - both good and bad.

Elizabeth

and i'm still waiting for a life that never was

Gods, but it was nice to be around someone who viewed her grief as something… normal. Others tiptoed around her in the wake of Sascha’s death, or worried for her, or - worst of all - pitied her. But Elizabeth merely saw her pain and accepted it, giving her a judgment-free space in which to work through her myriad emotions.

Even her jealousy, as much as she hated it, as much as it shamed her, was something that Elizabeth simply acknowledged. It was neither good or bad in the therapists’s eyes - it simply was. Alys wished it was that easy, that she could simply accept that this was how she was feeling and wait for it to pass - but it was eating her alive. All of it - the pain, the grief, the anger, the guilt - she could feel it festering inside her soul, deep down where she couldn’t reach to pull it out. And while time might heal some wounds, she was too deep in it in this moment to see her way out.

”If this is what it means to be human, is it too late to be something else?” she asked with a watery chuckle, wiping away a tear that tracked down her cheek. Still, she felt better than she had since Sascha had died, and it was all thanks to Elizabeth. Perhaps she still felt bad for having all of these feelings, but at least she felt more normal. ”Thanks, Elizabeth.”

Alys

Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again,
this time more intelligently

The jest made Elizabeth smile softly, feeling the tension of the moment start to pass. "If you find a way, let me know." Because she, and a lot of others, would probably love to push aside their unwelcome emotions for a day, maybe a month. Until then, they'd have to do what everyone else did, confronting them until they were able to accept them and move on. At least Alys seemed to be one step closer to doing that. 

Rubbing her hand slowly over her friend's shoulder, Elizabeth dipped her head. "Any time." Day or night, rain or shine, she would always be there as an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, or someone to laugh with. The warmth of her gaze said as much, welcoming Alys to call on her no matter the reason. 

The small box in her coat reminded her of the other reason for her visit. Although it may rub at the raw emotions, she decided the memento might be worth it. "I also brought something for you." Reaching into her thick pocket, she removed the small brown box, carefully sealed with a yellow ribbon. She offered it forward with an encouraging expression. "Don't let it be a sad reminder, but something to cherish." And when Alys decided to open the box, she would find a small bookmark within, a yellow ribbon with a glass ursur charm sparkling brilliantly on the end.

Elizabeth

and i'm still waiting for a life that never was

Alys accepted Elizabeth’s soothing hand upon her shoulder, and she might have been content to stay in a companionable silence had her friend not brought something else to her attention. The seer slowly accepted the little box with the yellow ribbon, hesitant to open it. If Elizabeth’s words were any indication, the gift might bring her grief back to the surface, and she wasn’t keen to reopen the wound that she was slowly working on healing.

Still, it would be rude to ignore the gift, and so she slowly tugged at the ribbon until the box fell open to reveal a beautifully-made bookmark with a glass ursur figurine at the end. Alys stared at it for a moment, her eyes filling with tears - but this time, they weren’t entirely sad. She appreciated the gift and knew that it would be a constant reminder not only of what she had lost, but also of what she had once had. ”It’s beautiful,” she finally sniffled, offering a watery smile to her friend ”I’ll cherish it. Thank you.”

Alys