Sansa ?
The Lost Prologue

The world consists of two things: Light and Objects.

Light is that which exists but is more or less invisible to the naked eye. The average human can only see a small range of this light and this small range is called, simply enough, visible light. But there is a light that exists which cannot be seen. I'm sure you've heard it, gamma rays, x-rays, ultraviolet, infrared, radio waves—even microwaves that heat your food—all of these are light in its various forms. There's even light that doesn't exist on that spectrum scale, a light that has no words to describe it because no one has ever seen it or is capable of seeing it. Light exists always. Nothing can destroy light. It is constant.

Objects are that which controls the light. It bends, it blocks, it filters, and reflects the light however it deems fit. Objects pay a steep price for controlling light. Objects are solid. They are stable unable to pass through one another or disappear with the blink of an eye. They cannot simply flow and exist the way light can. They are limited by their own physical characteristics and thusly are bound to always be visible to the naked eye.

The interaction between light and object creates shadows. But shadows do not really exist. They are tricks—illusions of the light and object. They shift and they change and evolve with the object that casts the shadow. A times shadows can look almost alive, dancing, and eating, and creeping forward. But shadows aren't alive. Shadows don't feel. Shadows are Shadows and every shadow is the same shadow responding to a different environment.

In the same manner of shadows, this illusion of light and object, I was born as the object Sansa Stark—a girl of noble birth, the daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn of House Stark—but that wasn't who I have always been. Once, I had another name, another body, another life—A life that is so long gone that it feels like a dream, but I still remember. I remember the smells and the sounds, and the people—family, friends, enemies—I remember. Sometimes I remember so vividly that it almost feels like the life I am living now is the dream.

Am I dreaming? Am I living? Which is it?

I don't think I know anymore. Or perhaps I do.

I've seen into the void of death. I've been to the angles of space outside of time. I've spoken to that thing—that shadow—which exists there and it showed me the truth.

I am a shadow.

We are all shadows. But shadows, as I said, don't really exist. They are like the angles of space between time, only visible because of two intercrossing planes, which means they don't exist. That means that I don't exist. It means no one exists.

Life is nothing more than what you choose to see. The distinction between what is and what isn't is nothing more than a stubbornly persistent illusion.

But don't take my word for it. Let me tell you my story. But first, a warning.

A great philosopher once wrote; "In times of peace the warlike man attacks himself." This is the root of all our problems, and by this, I mean we. We are the root of all our problems, our confusion, our anger, our fear of things we do not understand. To be human, in other words, is to be ignorant. Before we continue, I want you to know what you'd be sacrificing to know the truth: your ignorance and, by extension, your humanity. And I implore you to turn back now if the thought of losing your humanity gives you any pause, for it should for the rational being, and know that I will not hold it against you if you choose to follow my advice.

There was a time that I wished someone had bothered to give me that advice. Perhaps if they had I would've managed to save myself this misery. Perhaps not. Who could say for sure? I know I would've appreciated the choice had I been given one, but I wonder if my curiosity would have won out, in the end, resulting in the same fate? In that case, I'm going to say what I'd say to my curious past self; "Be cautious. Think it through before you proceed. Once you go into the labyrinth, once you've seen into the shadows, once you've known the truth know that there will be no going back to a time before you knew what you knew. There is only forward—forward into madness."

If none of this makes you pause, then by all means—let us continue on with this tale. But don't come crying to me when all is said and done. You did this to yourself and I will take no blame.

A/N:

Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites of this fic. The next chapter is taking some time, but I wrote a prologue. I should put it at the beginning, but it'd mess up the order of the comments/reviews, so fuck it. I'm putting it right in the middle.

(Also I've changed the title of this fic and the summary to better reflect where I'm headed with my outlining of this story and what the theme of this story is going to be. I hope that didn't confuse you too much.)