Vandaag zijn we dan eindelijk aangekomen bij het eind: het gesprek met Trystana is tot z’n conclusie gekomen. Ik hoop dat je het leuk vond om te lezen! Lees ook vooral nog even mijn nawoord onder het laatste deel, want ik heb een paar kleine vraagjes voor je.
Keara dropped her head, chin to chest, and let out a deep sigh. Without looking up, she said, “Yes.”
Trystana couldn’t fathom it. She wasn’t real, was just some woman’s imagination and all this time had been trapped inside Keara’s head. It didn’t seem like it could be the reality she was living in, but her surroundings suddenly made more sense.
The soft, squishy walls that her shoe’s high heel got stuck in were like the woman’s brains. It also explained how Keara had appeared rubbing her head after she’d kicked into it. And the wine that had been summoned out of nowhere; that wasn’t real either.
Everything in this room was a figment of Keara’s imagination. Including Trystana herself.
She felt real, though. Her thoughts were her own, she moved her limbs on her own accord and not because Keara said so. She let her tongue trail over her teeth and was happy to find that her canines were still as sharp as ever.
The thought struck her that if none of this was real, she wouldn’t really hurt Keara if she bit her or impaled her on her horns.
Absently she brought her hand to her forehead, wanting to feel the ribbed and rough texture of her horns beneath her fingers, but instead all she felt was the softness of her skin and a little higher up, her hair. Her horns were gone.
Trystana sat down on the floor, took off her heels and hugged her knees to her chest as she let herself look at the woman who had created her. Keara was not looking at her, but rather gazing into the darkness that she was now noticing was enveloping them more and more. The woman was biting her lip and picking at her nails and Trystana thought she saw a tear in the corner of one eye.
“So what now?” she asked, startling Keara.
The blonde shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Sighing, Trystana stretched her legs in front of her and watched the darkness coming closer with each second that passed.
“Keara,” she said, trying to keep an eye on both the darkness and the woman, “You know what you have to do, right?”
The woman shook her head and the silent tear started rolling down her cheek. The encroaching darkness swallowed Trystana’s feet and obscured her view of her creator. Fear settled in her chest when she realized what was happening. If she allowed Keara to draw on the darkness and hide her in it, it would really be as if she didn’t exist. Even though she wasn’t real in Keara’s world, she was part of an alternate universe of sorts that was in danger of not existing if the darkness won.
Without seeing much of anything, let alone her creator, she called out, “You can write my story, Keara! Or anyone else’s for that matter! All you have to do is believe in yourself and the people that are in that world. Who else were you planning on creating?”
A small spot of light appeared in the dark, softly illuminating Keara’s face. She had stopped fidgeting with her nails and lips and wiped the wet streak off of her cheek. “Would you be mad if I said that you’re not the main character in the story?” Keara asked, her voice uncertain and barely above a whisper.
Trystana raised an eyebrow in her spot of darkness. “Of course I would, but at this point I don’t rightly care if I’m the main character or just a reference. What matters most is that you create my world, because I don’t want to fade away into darkness again.”
Keara chuckled. “Oh, you’ll be more than just a reference, I promise. You’ll be very important in the story line and to the main protagonist.”
“Really? How so?”
The darkness slowly pulled back, revealing the details that had been obscured: the steel table with the wine glass and coffee cup, which was still steaming. Other details started showing up as she watched: a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table and behind it some sheer, white curtains. In between the curtains a wooden door appeared and through the slits on the sides and bottom she could see a small sliver of light.
“Her name is Moira,” Keara told her while at the same time the door opened and a female silhouette could be seen.
The shadow stepped through the opening and seemed to solidify. “Oh, crap,” the dark-haired woman said as she eyed the room. “Where did I end up this time?”
Heb je alles gelezen en vraag je je af wat er nou precies gebeurd is? Of wist je al redelijk snel waar het verhaal zich afspeelde? Ik ben heel erg benieuwd naar jouw gedachten hierover. Het ziet er naar uit dat er een nieuwe serie aankomt, A Conversation With… Tja, met wie denk je? 😉