The road to recuperation was long and rough, but in the end she got there. Of course, she didn't regain all of her former knowledge and memories, but it was better than nothing.
Thus the day had arrived.
She sat in what had been her bed for almost a month, when a rapping came at the door. "Are you awake, Birdie?" came the peaceful voice that had become so familiar to her. She sprung down to the floor and slipped on her shoes. She knew well today was the day.
She opened the door to find Gin with his usual smile, raising his hand to knock. "Oh, there you are, Little Bird. Tousen is waiting for you." Blackbird, as she had become used to being called, bit her lip in distress. Yes, she had thought her choices over whenever her aching body gave her the opportunity; however, it was still too grand of a decision to be able to decide on possessing only the limited knowledge of someone of ten and one years. There was much to consider, that she understood clearly.
Gin lead her down the corridor, his fingertips rested tenderly upon her shoulder. For reassurance, she thought. She hadn't been out of her room her whole stay, the walls outside of it seemed oddly airtight, yet intimidating to her. The shadows loomed overhead, obscuring the ceiling and sections of the walls, which reflected the small amount of lights from vase-like lamps attached to them in an odd form. At the end of the walk they found Tousen standing in front of a large wooden door.
After an uncomfortable silence, Gin decided upon announcing to the blind man, "Tousen, Blackbird now stands before you." "I am aware," He replied bitterly before another irritating silence. "I guess you're waiting for an answer," said the girl, with a childish, yet concealed voice. The gypsy man nodded. Her stomach churned as she began considering the choices once again. Soon she was deep enough in thought that the world seemed to have disappeared around her as words and images of possibilities swiveled around in the eye of her mind.
"Birdie!" called the voice which snapped her out of the trance. Gin held his hand to his chin in concern, as opposed to Tousen, who simply stared straight ahead. "Your troubles aren't my problem," was what he seemed to say. "Tousen, this isn't going to work," he frowned. "Well, I suppose we can always—"
"No." She interrupted loudly, then caught herself and said in her normal tone "I'm sorry, but whatever it is, you won't need to do it. I made up my mind."
"Oh?" Gin lifted his eyebrows in surprise, never opening those eyes. "Well then," he smiled, "Let's hear it." She spilled her choices through her mind again, then sucked in a plumping breath.
"I want to stay here with you." The blind man nodded, seemingly, in a praiseful manner.
-"You have made a wise choice, but would you not like to learn more of your lost memories?"
-"Whatever I need to remember…I'm sure I can find it here. Besides, I don't have anywhere to go."
-"You have proven to me that you are ready for the challenges that lie ahead of you in your journey."
She smiled at this, knowing she can't see it, and not quite understanding what he meant. As he turned to face the door she thought would have led to her freedom, as if by magic, the locks clicked and rattled from the other side. The door creaked open before them.
The room on the other side was plain, yet marvelous. The ceiling curved high above them, giving a dome-like appearance, ended all the way down to the floor. In the center of the room squatted a make-shift table, with what seemed to be…what was the word for it? Everything looked to be made out of the ground itself, the room harboring earthy smells that tickled her nose. Once they were near the table, three stone chairs rose from the floor. After they had all sat down, the dome ceiling appeared to dissolve, opening to blackness above. The floor started to raise them up into it at a horrifying speed, but stopped just in time before a stone-patterned ceiling, which the floor imitated in appearance soon after.
The two men stood, and then Gin nudged her gently to her feet, (Perhaps he had taken the quo from the sudden greenness of her face.) and ushered her to the table. "Behold Birdie, the map of the great land of Albion."
A map, that's what it's called.
She stared in amazement into the bowl shape in the table, onto the perfect interpretation of forests and towns down in it. "Blackbird, I will need to mention that your decision was wise for Albion, but I am afraid you will have to pay with your own blood."
Blackbird stared at him, frozen. The other man leaned down to whisper in her ear, "He doesn't mean literally," this calmed her, a little.
"Blackbird, for when you succeed, the name shall be spoken by all. Blackbird, because you will be great. Blackbird, for evil doers small and large will cower before the very name. Blackbird, for the name will be rejoiced amongst the rich and the poor alike. Blackbird, because you are our hero."