Eh, this is a bit shorter than usual.

I still own nothing.

Much thanks to Etowato and Serena B, who left evidence that someone is still reading this fic.

"Have you found anything since lunch?"

Allen shook his head. "What about you?" He asked, nodding at the large pile of books sitting on the floor beside his sister.

"The only things about Zaibach technology are about guymelefs, siege engines, things like that. I don't think that anyone outside of the government knew about their other experiments."

"Probably not."  Allen sighed.

Celena looked dejectedly at the book in her lap. She and her brother had been in their father's study for the past four days, sometimes even sleeping there. They had finished looking through all the books, papers, journals, and various knickknacks left around the small, crowded room. So far all they had found were descriptions of Zaibach weapons technology, a bit about the political system, and more snippets and false leads to Atlantis than Celena had thought existed.

The last book, and nothing.  She glared at it.

"We're not going to find me a cure, are we."

"Don't talk like that." Allen was a bit sharp with her, if only because she had said what he feared was true.

Subdued by her brother's anger, she replied softly.

"Sorry."

Allen sighed again. Celena wondered if he was going to make a habit of it.

"You're sure you haven't been bothered by him since Fanelia."

Celena shook her head. "Nothing. No dreams, or flashbacks, or…darkness."

"Maybe you don't need a cure. All you have to do is avoid Van, and you'll be fine."

The girl frowned. "I don't like the idea of just leaving some horrible mass murderer in my head."

"Neither do I, but if it's not an immediate concern, we can keep our eyes open, ask other people what they think. Since it doesn't seem to be an emergency anymore, we have the luxury of time to think things through."

It made a sort of sense, though Celena was still worried. "I guess I feel alright….but…what if…I don't know."

Her voice was very small. She felt at a loss, uncertain. Dammit. I don't want to do what Allen is suggesting, but I can't think of anything else I want to do, either.

"I'm going for a walk," she announced.

Allen didn't want to fight his sister about something he knew would make her feel better. "Be back by dinner."

Mildly surprised, Celena left, hoping to find calm in the plants and sky outside her home.

The path she took ran west from behind the house.  Tall evergreens populated the slopes of the mountains on either side of the valley the Schezar estate was built in, and the undergrowth was comprised mainly of shrubs.  The western half of the sky was streaked with cirrocumulus clouds, which glowed as the afternoon rays hit them from behind.   Staring at the sky helped distract Celena from her problems, though it took a good twenty minutes of vigorous walking to burn away her frustration completely. 

As she walked, she enjoyed the feel of the air against her skin. The cool breeze felt almost chill, but while she was moving it was invigorating rather than cold.  The sunlight on her back warmed her shoulders, and the movement itself felt good.  As she crested a hill, her legs pushed her upwards, her lungs sucked in fresh air, and her blood pumped through her veins. It was an intensely physical experience, made more so as the natural world around her supported her weight, her breath.  In love with the feeling, Celena reached out to touch each tree she passed, caressed the leaves of shrubs and bent down to grasp the dirt. 

Sweating and loving it, she flopped down in a clearing.  She lie on her back spread-eagled for a moment, then rolled over to smell the dark earth.  Closing her eyes, she dug her fingers into the soil, and was glad of the light summer dress that had no sleeves. She laughed as a small plant tickled her arm, and opened her eyes to stare at clover from a foot away.

I haven't done this for nine years, she suddenly thought.  Not like this.

She knew that none of the facts her brother had given her meant that Dilandau had never done this, but she was no less certain for the lack of proof.  Plants, clouds and dirt had never been endearing to the warlord.  To Dilandau, trees were for burning.

Nine years of my life as another person...  She shuddered.  Nine years of Celena lost.

This body is sixteen years old, but the time I've spent as Celena has only been seven years.  I don't feel like a child, but why not? 

The thoughts churned in her mind, as she boiled them down to answers.

I can read, but I didn't learn that from Allen.  I learned it in Zaibach.  I guess that means I learned other things there too. 

She didn't want to think about some of those other things.  Fighting, piloting, killing.  Nothing she wanted.

Her next thought scared her too.  I grew up there.  That's why I don't act like a seven-year-old. 

And if I retained that development…

It means that I was there too.

Where? Where could she have been? Somewhere deep inside his mind, the way he was deep inside hers now?

If they could inhabit one another's psyches, what were they to each other?  She had thought of Dilandau as a sort of phantasmic creation imposed upon her by a terrible alien power, but this newest development begged the question of which one of them was more real.

Even this body changed.

But it didn't change when she had last seen Van.  Allen had told her how much it frightened him to see his archenemy glaring at him from his sister's face.

Why hadn't she changed then? Was there some sort of trick to it?

Maybe Zaibach was keeping him him, somehow.  I haven't been there for eight months, so they can't do that anymore.

If they had to keep him him, then I'm more real.

As she looked up into the falls of sunlight through the branches, she couldn't help but wonder to herself:

How real?