And The Shadows May Follow

Mariah started at the gentle touch, her haunted silver eyes flicking up to meet Caedes' concerned emerald gaze. For a moment, she felt a flicker of shame at being seen in such a vulnerable state. She was supposed to be strong, unshakable, a pillar of control and order. But now...now she felt as fragile as spun glass, ready to shatter at the slightest pressure. "I...I don't know what's happening to me.” she whispered, her voice hoarse and trembling.

The words spilled from her lips, unexpected and raw, like a floodgate burst open. Mariah had not intended to voice her turmoil, but in that moment of connection, the dam of her restraint cracked, unraveling the tightly woven threads of her composure. She felt exposed, but beneath the weight of her admission was a desperate yearning for understanding. “I fear I am going mad." she continued, drawing in a shuddering breath as if the air itself would strengthen her resolve. "The dreams... they feel too real. But then … ” A tremor coursed through her body as she recalled the coldness of his claws and the sickening revelation that accompanied them. “I dreamed I was being cut open … but my intestines aren’t normal … they are lined with crystals.” Mariah's voice faltered as shame coursed through her veins, seeping into the very marrow of her being. “How could it feel that real, and be absolutely insane?” She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her words hang in the salty air like a storm cloud ready to burst. The inner conflict raged within her—the desire to be found sane battled against the damning evidence of her experiences, fragmented memories that refused to fade with the dying light of day.

"Mariah Mendacium"