But she remembered. She touched the combat knife that was sheathed at her hip, as if to remind herself it was there. She harbored her suspicions about her gift: her powers had taken a part of her psyche and given it concrete form.
Hm. So her weapon is pretty much a part of her, then.
The angriest parts of her, the most childish parts, the parts of her that dreamed, and those that forgot. The knife at her hip slept for her and dreamed for her, she imagined.
She said earlier that she doesn’t usually sleep. Sounds like that was to be taken literally.
She had gone nearly a year at a time without needing to stop and put her head to rest on a pillow.
Damn.
When she closed her eyes and let herself drift off, it was because she felt it was something she ought to do, not because she had to. Even then, she never dreamed.
So you’re saying she’s a D&D elf, then.
She remembered, instead, her mind replaying past events in perfect detail.
That explains why it was so vivid. The “dream” sequence wasn’t dreamlike at all.
And through some chance of fate, this meant she remembered the entity, and she remembered forgetting it, as paradoxical as that was.
That was the weirdest part of finding out it was a “dream”, to be honest.
Krixwell Liveblogs 