He doesn’t have an answer. How could he? Mesec doesn’t know why the world is wicked; he’s a victim just like you, fallen prey to a world that cannot let things be easy, that must coil and knot around itself until you and everyone else in it are tangled up like a giant Rat King, all gnashing teeth and beady eyes, hurting the people you love in attempt to save yourself. Still, somehow, it’s another blow- why can’t someone have a better answer besides that’s just the way it works? You stare at him blankly as he continues to speak, too wounded, too numb to do much more than that. You wish you could go back to five minutes ago. You wish you’d never sought him out, never come to say hello. You wish you were still ignorant, because at least ignorance was easy - even if you were frightened every day, at least you could still believe in your friends.
Something else is starting to peek through your comfortable blanket of denial and shock, your easy mentality of woe is me. Maybe it’s the way he’s avoiding your eyes; maybe it’s the wretched tone of his voice. Maybe you’re just a sorry sucker who would rather focus on the problems of other people because it helps you hide better from your own. Whatever the reason, your mind has belatedly caught on to the whole erase your memory clear your pain deal. You still rebel viscerally against the concept of just locking away your mind, because after all, what are you except your experiences? But man, after seeing the change in Isopia that erasing painful memories left behind, you can’t help but feel a little tempted to latch on to this plan – to forget this conversation, that night, and all the moments of pain and fear that have haunted your steps in the time between.
How lovely it would be, to just forget! To no longer bear the weight of betrayal around your neck. And don't you deserve that, after all you've been through? Haven't you've earned this? Let Mesec carry the guilt of it- it’s his fault, after all, not yours. You didn’t make him attack you – hell, you tried to save him! He's the one who tried to kill you! There you go, kid, you tell him. Get mad! Fight back now, let him feel the weight you've had to deal with, let him be the one with all the pain!-
-Is what you don't think, even though you should. But your mind is too small, too malformed, to harbor thoughts of revenge. Perhaps it's a side effect of being dropped so many times - you did, after all, get knocked out pretty hard on this very island. Maybe you're physiologically an idiot. It would explain so much.
Instead you think of Isopia, bearing her terrible secret; of your Ma, weighed down forever by the terrible things that have happened to her; of Iskra. Will Mesec's children have to suffer the way your brother does, bound to a sire who cannot overcome the weight of what he's done, what he's gone through? Will they be neglected like your Sparky; like the baby Isopia couldn't even bear to bring into the world? You don't have others who need you. You don't have children. You already hold Iso's memories for her, and Ma's.
Can't you hold onto Mesec's, too?
“Fight the sadness and bad things on a smaller scale.” Your thoughts go to the small stone under your wing, dark and clouded and waiting for you to help, to make something right. Where better to begin, than with your dearest friends?
"You use it," you whisper, boyish voice barely audible above the pounding in your ears. Your sunbeam eyes are transfixed on the ground; you are rigid with effort, for it those three words took all the courage you have, all the stupid, naive, idiotic selflessness you can possibly muster. Your voice shakes like a leaf in the wind. Why do so many bad things seem to happen to you here?
"You use it," you repeat, sunbeam eyes raising to meet his own, a quiet, desperate plea in your strangled voice. "And forget. Please." Please, don't give me a chance to change my mind.
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