Lady Amalthea – Hypnosis Room ~ I feel so...strange
She almost couldn’t believe it. Someone else who was told they weren’t human? It was somewhat comforting to know that she wasn’t completely alone. That someone was facing similar problems to what she was.
But, Frode seemed so much more confident than she. Amalthea wondered how he could be so certain of himself...she admired him for it.
However the comfort she received from this knowledge faded into the background, as she listened to the debate going on around her. She went from one face to another as they spoke, watching their mouths moving. She wanted to say what she thought – but then as she opened her mouth to speak she caught herself, and closed her lips together again. It struck her, that she didn’t know what her opinion was. What did she think of humanity? Of animals? Of feelings
? What did it mean to her? She searched herself for the answer, but she did not know. It was just a mess of contrasting feelings, a mess of conflicting opinions. And it frightened her.
And then the teen that had been the first to great her, mentioned something that made her flinch. “Love” and “Regret”. For some reason those words stung her, hurt her...She knew those emotions so well, more than she knew herself.And yet, I can’t remember...
The girl looked down at her pale hands. They were trembling slightly. She knew
they were hers, she had studied them countless times, and knew every line, every shape. But they felt so strange, even now...like she was looking at them in a dream. She often wondered; if she disfigured her hands, would she still feel the pain? ...Would she care? Would she miss them? The white haired girl moved her fingers, bending and flexing the small delicate digits...but still, nothing. They never felt like hers, no matter how much she told herself they were. And it just confused her so much more. Sometimes, it felt almost as if...
Suddenly she shook her head, closing her hands, fixing then back tightly over her blue cloak. No. No she couldn’t think that. She was human. Human. “And like they are saying,”
she whispered ever so quietly to herself, “What is ‘human’ in the end, anyway? What does it matter?”
But then the answer to that was in something else that had been mentioned. “Identity, to know where we belong.”
Who was she? Where did she belong?...Where was home? Where was her family? To be human is to have a name. Do I have a name? Amalthea...is not my real name, is it? He gave me that name...I never chose any of this...
Around and around in circles. She felt so lost. The more she thought about it, the worse it made her feel. But it was like she was obsessed by it...she could never be free of it. Amalthea felt her eyes tear up again, and she closed her eyes, looking away. She stopped listening to the silly debate the others were having, as she felt a few tears drip down her soft cheek. She was sick of listening to it. Sick and tired. And she felt odd all over...it made her afraid. She clutched the magician’s cloak tightly over her frail form, trying to hold onto the facts she was certain of...trying to forget that there were things left forgotten, things that plagued her thoughts and refused to give her any peace.Think of Lír. Think of how much I loved him. That was real...That’s what it means to be human...never mind what the others say...
At the sound of the whistle, she looked up suddenly, snatched out her thoughts. Something was going on. She stared as the little girl made an appearance, spoke some kind of riddle (huh, riddles), and apparently disappeared again, leaving only a feather. The episode confused her, but also worried her. How was she able to get in? Were they as safe here as she had thought? And what had that pile of nonsense been about? The Lady Amalthea frowned deeply. She had never liked riddles. Why was no one straight-forward these days? She decided she wouldn’t worry about it too much, though. The girl trusted the situation was under control now.
She looked to the cat, who was asking around for the time. She hadn’t noticed him before, but now she had, she could tell how nervous he was. “I’m afraid I don’t know the time,”
she replied to him softly. “...I’ve never really paid much attention to it.”
She looked to him kindly. “What’s your name?”
she asked him, trying to hold off the difficult task of introducing herself again, for as long as possible.