The girl tossed and turned on the cold ground beneath her, dreaming and screaming in her head all at once. All of a sudden, out of her nightmare, the silver haired girl awoke and threw herself up. Searching mercilessly, she looked around, searching for something familiar to pull her heart out of the nightmares. Only there was a single problem. What was familiar? Giving up her fight with a scream, she shook her head and gritted her teeth, racking her brain for a single memory.
She winced, lacking recollection and patience. Who am I? What's my… how old am I? Where… Where am I? She held her hands on the back of her neck, as a shooting pain stretched itself quickly up her spine and neck. She shook uncontrollably, and her neck twitched slightly. She heard a scream, and as it came closer, she realized it was her own voice, and tried to quiet it, not wanting to show pain. However, she failed, and let out another wail of pain, as a lash of throbbing hurt twirled down her fragile spine.
Out of nowhere it seemed, that the pain faded away, gradually. Within seconds she felt fine. Unexpectedly, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves underneath the girl's frail figure. She could feel herself being lifted, and although she felt an inner struggle telling her to scream or fight back, her physical state would never allow it. She could barely breathe, let alone try to fight off an obviously strong opponent. Unaware of it herself, the girl silently drifted off into a peaceful slumber as the stranger carried her up steps that seemed endless.
9259
Dilan looked up with a questioning look plastered on his steel face. He could see the girl moving – tossing and turning wildly and rampantly, but not once did her eyes open. How she slept through whatever terrible nightmare that stood before her in her mind fooled him. The silver haired young woman nearly threw herself off the bed when she screamed, but with Dilan at her side, she stayed on the white twin bed with minimal trouble. He began wondering why he let her dreadful visions continue, and not just wake her.
"Even!" She yelled, her voice clear and smooth like glass. He placed his hand on her head, and whispered a quiet 'Shh…' which was slightly out of character for him, but he didn't let it bother him. This girl showed only signs of innocence, yet she was plagued by illusions of horrid torments. The girl swatted and flinched at the touch of his warm fingers against her sweating brow, but his hand remained unmoved.
"Grah! Braig! Listen to me!" Her voice shrieked through the otherwise silent room. He sighed, realizing that there was no help for this girl's illusions – at least not at the moment.
"Don't touch me!" She screamed louder, only this time her voice was much more shrill. "Back off!" Her hand flew from her side and flung itself at Dilan's stone face. In a split second, he grabbed the woman's forearm, stopping her. Her eyes flew open, awake and alive as ever, and she whipped around, swinging her body off the bed, and scratching nails sharp as daggers across the skin of his face. With hardly even a gasp let out, he summoned his lance, and pointed at the girl's throat.
"Who are you!" She yelped, still loosely believing she was asleep. "Where am I!" She demanded answers but got only a cold stare in return.
"Hush, child. You have no need to shriek, unless you want one." He suggested, shoving the lance closer to her. She scowled, letting out a low growl from the back of her throat as a warning, implying, 'Two can play at that game.'
"Dilan. Are you threatening our new guest already?" Came a high, but definitely male voice from behind the girl. "Tsk tsk, my friend."
"She attacked me first, Even." He said sternly, his gaze not once leaving the eyes of the silver haired girl.
"I did not!" She yelled, looking to the man called Even for condolence in her case. "He grabbed me!"
Dilan rolled his eyes at her choice of words. "You threw your hand at me while you slept. I grabbed it to prevent this-" he stated sullenly, pointing to the four red lines, lightly dripping blood on his cheek. "Not that it did much good."
"It wasn't the girl who struck you." Even paused. "At least not the first time. If someone grabbed you in your sleep, you'd attack them as well, I'd assume." His long blonde locks swept around his angular face, shaping it well. She looked into his bright green eyes, realizing that he was the man in her dreams. Looking to the other man, Dilan, she gazed into amethyst orbs, and shrieked, falling on her butt, and cornering herself.
"What's wrong? What happened?" Dilan looked confused, and almost concerned, as he tried speaking words of comfort.
"You! You two… you're…" Words failed the young woman, as she tried expressing her thoughts. "You're not…"
"We are not what?" Even asked, now concerned. Neither men and ever seen the girl before, and although it was not uncommon for the townsfolk to recognize them as he apprentices of Ansem the Wise, why she was so distraught by the recognition was beyond belief.
"You… are you not the apprentices of Ansem?" She asked, unsure that her mind wasn't just playing tricks.
"We are." Dilan replied. "What of it? Who are you?"
"…" The girl paused, not knowing how to respond to his questions. She still had no idea who she was, let alone how to tell the men before her that the only thing she remembered was about them; but how can you remember people you've never met? "I don't know…" Tears of self-pity and confusion let themselves out of her eyes like uninvited guests. She didn't like the feeling of crying, or of these men seeing her so unsure and helpless, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What do you mean you don't-" Dilan was cut short by Even, who signaled him to stop talking by the movement of his hand. Dilan suddenly felt sorry for whoever this girl was. She was alone, and scared, with no one to rely on.
Even then bent down to her, trying to make eye contact. "Look at me. Do you know your name, girl?" He asked her politely as possible, and she looked away. After a long pause of her racking her brain for some sort of answer, she shook her head, letting more tears go. "Do you know where you live, or where you came from?" He asked more questions, and she thought some more as she wiped away the tears, slowly warming up to the man, and finally looking him in the eyes.
"I don't remember anything except my dreams." She replied, hoping he would stop asking questions. However, at the same time, she wanted him to continue, hoping that it would trigger some sort of memory.
Unfortunately for her, the only memories coming to her were of these men, whom she didn't know. She sighed, and looked away, thinking to herself. Her thoughts drifted to pain. Not in her current state was she in any, but she vaguely remembered being in pain, and being relieved of it by something that washed over her. Or, by someone, rather.
"How… where did you find me? Why am I here?" She asked, full of painful wonder.
"I found you." Spoke Dilan, stoic as ever. "Screaming in pain, you were, until I cast Curaga on you."
She paused for what seemed like eternity, thinking. "Call me that. Until I know, at least, who I am. Call me Cura." She looked at Even and Dilan, not with wonder or hope, but not with devastation or a yearning empathy, either. She just looked them in the eyes, a look that told them she meant it.
"Alright, Cura it is." Even stood, and motioned for Dilan to follow him as he walked to the door. "Get some rest, Cura. You'll need it."