Some things were just impossible to get used to, no matter how many decades had passed. Especially that tendency of some people to cause too much ado over nothing.
Barbara winced, massaging her temples. She really needed some break or at least some silence. Alas, at the moment, it was much like an unreachable dream as her female co-workers were lecturing her for turning off another date proposal.
"Come on, Barbs, why giving the cold shoulder to Dr. Lewis? He's basically the nicest guy around! Polite, caring, helpful, amazing when it comes to finding a common language with kids, and don't let me start on looks department!" one of the women nearly yelled while gesturing wildly. She belonged to the kind of people with who the redhead always had the most troubles. Ironically, those also tended to end among her close acquaintances with surprising regularity.
But seriously, that kind of conversation was too annoying, to put it lightly. How many times had she heard it before? There were at least twice this month alone! Why was her personal life that important to all those co-workers?
Besides, to be honest, one of the reasons why Barbara had turned down that guy's date proposal was because he was a wonderful person. She had trouble dealing with that kind of people lately knowing that most men who entered her life hadn't gotten a happy ending. If anything, any nice person would be better with someone else. Wasn't it quite merciful to show them it was hopeless to pursue Barbara Lake?
But, of course, her co-workers had no idea about her previous relationship history and demanded a satisfying explanation.
"I'm simply not ready for another man entering my life," the redhead went for the most neutral answer. It wasn't even that far from the truth. With current circumstances, there was a lot to take into account before even considering dating anyone.
"Barbara, one jerk doesn't mean that you need to give up on a relationship altogether," another one of the colleagues groaned. "He broke your heart and ruined your life… Do you want him to feel smug because you still cannot be happy?"
Great, now there was a huge misunderstanding as well. It wasn't anything like they assumed. No one had ever broken Barbara's heart, especially not James Lake Sr. And seriously, 'ruined your life'? Who had even come up with that?
Besides, her happiness should have included 'no danger hanging over Jim's and her heads'. The redhead wouldn't mind meeting anyone who could grant that. Alas, it wasn't possible - not for the daughter of the infamous dark overlord at least.
She would never look for a new relationship at her current location - her personal rule was to stay at the same place for 10-15 years to prevent attracting too much attention. The woman planned to move from Arcadia in some years and preferred not to complicate things with another marriage and unavoidable divorce.
Not a mention that Barbara wouldn't ever let in her household anyone who could possibly freak out if Jim demonstrated anything out of the human norm. She had learned that lesson the hard way. Even the memory of that incident made her blood boil. No, the mother would never allow anything like that once again.
As usual, the nagging lasted for a while, but eventually, the women calmed down and went back to their tasks. Barbara sighed with an obvious relief - she could live without their relationship advice. Hell, she could probably give some decent ones herself - those people simply had no idea how many men the redhead had in her life so far. The truth would be surely too shocking for common folks.
It had never been about love, just a means for survival and a good cover, a piece of advice from Tabitha that Barbara actually decided to follow, even if begrudgingly. After all, after she left the witches' village, she had no friends or family to rely upon. Times were also different and any single woman would just attract a lot of unneeded attention. Besides, one of the truly unpleasant surprises the human society held was that women didn't get fair treatment all the time back then. A female troll could easily live by herself and even reach high positions with enough strength or skill, yet apparently, it was impossible among fleshbags. Therefore, she tried to find a partner, eventually honing some skill in seduction and even getting some preferences about the type to pursue. However, that had taken several decades - at first, Barbara relied a lot on good old luck. The results tended to vary greatly because of that.
Surprisingly, her first husband, named Peter, actually left a lasting impression and many memories. He was an eccentric person even by human standards and the redhead still wasn't sure if she had been ever able to understand his motives, no matter how many years had passed.
Their initial meeting was actually quite random - back then Barbara just arrived at some God-forsaken village and was roaming around in the hope to find some work or place to stay. Saying that locals immediately got suspicious of her would mean saying nothing. It couldn't be helped - back then the woman lacked heavily in the human communications department. How could it be otherwise when her only experience would be talking to the villagers from the witches' settlement where everyone knew about her being a troll and gave some slack to all possible mistakes? And that lenience turned out to do a huge disservice at the moment as most people were not that used to strangers approaching them and demanding stuff. Not to mention that obviously backwater place was suspicious to any outsider by default (not that the daughter of Gunmar knew about such nuances back then).
Barbara had never learned the reason why Peter decided to come up to her. Had he been watching her futile efforts for a while before that? That was quite likely - he was exactly that kind of person.
Her future husband hadn't made a good first impression, to be honest. Quite the contrary, he looked disheveled, pale, and sickly. The majority of Gumm-Gumms wouldn't even view someone like that as decent food. His expression was aloof and lacked any interest, his eyes held no life. Seriously, he was more akin to a walking corpse rather than a living being.
Not to mention that the man seemingly had as much trouble with starting a conversation as Barbara herself and she was an actual troll. His first words to her were "Follow me". In hindsight, that made him suspicious to the extreme, but back then the redhead was simply too tired to question his intentions. Besides, being afraid of any fleshbag wasn't in her book.
She wasn't that naive though and her first thought was that the stranger would be interested in her body. After all, some of the witches had told her too many of not that pleasant stories about some males. However, no matter how disgusting and dishonorable it felt, Barbara had mentally prepared for that - turning into a fleshbag had already destroyed her pride, it couldn't be worse than that. Besides, she would be the one drawing the red lines. And if that human ever dared to overstep the boundaries she allowed, his death wouldn't be quick or painless.
With that train of thought the daughter of Gunmar actually decided not to beat around the bush and discarded her clothes the moment the sickly man had closed the door of his house. That act definitely got a reaction from him as his lifeless expression changed at once. The man even stopped to look like a walking corpse, which was a great improvement. Nevertheless, that wasn't the reaction Barbara expected. There was no lust or even interest, quite the contrary, the man got obviously angry and even slightly disgusted.
"Put your clothes back. Now!" he hissed with a glare. "I'm not interested in your body".
It ended in really long and awkward silence when both weren't that eager to talk - Barbara was mentally kicking herself for jumping to conclusions, while the owner of the house looked furious.
He was the first one to break the pregnant pause as he started passing through his cabin:
"I won't ask about your past, but are you that desperate? Don't you have at least some pride? Someone else would use that opportunity without thinking, you know".
She didn't like his tone or attitude and simply glowered back. The owner just ignored it altogether.
"One night," the man stated firmly. "Next morning you'll go your way".
He threw her some blankets and went out somewhere.
There should be the end to the story of their encounter, but probably fate had some other plans. Who knew - it wasn't like it hadn't thrown some weird twists at the daughter of Gunmar before.
The man didn't sleep at home and only came back in the morning. Barbara even wondered if he avoided her. Despite being unfriendly, the owner of the house brought some food for her to eat which surprised her a bit.
"So, is there actually nowhere for you to go?" he asked with a scowl after she finished the meal. The woman simply shook her head seeing no point in the extended answer. There was too much to explain, not to mention that it was easier to be caught on a lie with a long story.
The daughter of Gunmar could swear she saw some doubt in his expression, but it was only momentary. He was too difficult to read properly - and it was driving her crazy.
"I cannot allow a freeloader," the man sighed heavily at last. "And don't even think about pulling anything like you did the previous night," he added quickly. "It would be different if you could assist me with my job as I can use some help there, but I seriously doubt that you're cut for that line of work..."
"Saying that before letting me try?" Barbara glowered, losing her cool. She totally hated that superior kind of talk, even if she sucked heavily in the most fleshbag-related stuff.
That was the first time she saw her new acquaintance smile, well, it looked more like an amused smirk, but it was quite a change already.
"Don't dare to complain later - I've warned you".
He didn't explain a thing, just made the woman follow him - later she had learned it was a part of his personality, not a way he treated her only. Nevertheless, back then it felt quite annoying.
They hadn't walked for too long - the man stopped before one of the houses and knocked rather impatiently. The door opened immediately as if an owner was expecting some visitor, revealing a thin woman with a pale complexion. She glanced at Barbara with some confusion but switched the full attention to her companion right away.
"Have you prepared everything?" the man asked harshly totally neglecting any kind of greeting or politeness. The daughter of Gunmar raised her eyebrows at that kind of attitude - even she could tell it wasn't the proper behavior.
"But, doctor, maybe we shouldn't..." the thin woman looked at him pleadingly. "Maybe there's some other way..."
"Other way?" he huffed angrily. "Other way would be possible if you called earlier! Now there's only one way".
The hostess slumped in defeat, letting the visitors in. Barbara looked around with some interest - it was quite a typical room with three more people present. Two of them were younger sturdy men barely past their teens, the third one lying down was way older and most likely their father. There was some foul odor of rot and decay in the air as well and the redhead soon discovered the source of it. The older man's leg was in a horrible state - it was swollen and deep purple in color just below the knee. It was like that part of his body wasn't alive anymore reminding Barbara of rotten fleshbag corpses she had seen a lot back during the war for the surfacelands.
It didn't turn out such a shocking revelation that her new acquaintance - a local doctor, apparently - was planning to take off that dead part of the flesh. She could see a good reason behind that. After all, many trolls did the same to damaged limbs that had turned into dead stone. Yet, the older man's family kept pleading and protesting for some reason - quite pointlessly, to be fair, as the doctor was dead-set on the amputation.
He forced the sons to restrain the patient and kicked away the sobbing wife. It seemed that he wasn't new to that stuff though obviously could use some assistance from a person with a cool head. So that was what he meant by the help he needed. Well, unlike his guess, she could do that.
When Barbara didn't hesitate for a second when the doctor told her to find something for the patient to bite in, there was some shadow of gratitude in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared as he focused on the current task.
The amputation went successfully. Well, the wife apparently fainted despite staying outside all the time and the sons ran away to empty their stomachs from the remains of their breakfast. It wasn't anything shocking, just fleshbags continuing to be pathetic.
The doctor didn't stay for more than needed, probably not that eager to deal with drama. As soon as he made sure that there were no bleeding and the stub was properly bandaged, he left the house.
Barbara followed him - there was no other choice, after all, as it seemed that no one else in the village was willing to deal with her. And something told her that assisting with the amputation would score her any good points with the villagers. The woman had already noticed some hateful glances from the patient's sons.
Not that she wasn't used to being disliked, but right now she couldn't afford that.
"So many problems could be avoided if the old man came to me after he injured his foot," the doctor suddenly muttered, kicking some pebble with a barely contained irritation. "But no, everyone always needs to wait till the very last second when there are not that many options left! Do I look like a miracle bringer to them?"
He suddenly stopped his rant abruptly, remembering about his companion, and turned to her.
"You haven't even flinched at least once," he stated firmly, looking at Barbara with some curiosity. "You're obviously used to something like that".
"So are you," the daughter of Gunmar retorted. Of course, she was used - she had seen and done way worse. Amputation was pretty tame in comparison to ripping a fleshbag to shreds - and that one was regular stuff some centuries ago.
"It's my work," the man shrugged. "On the other hand, you won't get used to cutting fellow human beings if you have only butchered some chicken or pigs before".
The redhead tensed - her new acquaintance was surprisingly keen. Or was she that obvious? Did he suspect her of being something inhuman? That could be dangerous - maybe she had to get rid of him before anything worse happened.
"I don't ask about your past, by the way," the doctor added nonchalantly, breaking her line of thought. "I don't care, after all. We all have our own skeletons in the closet. What actually matters is that you're qualified to be my helper and that's all. I'm Peter, by the way, even if it's quite late for introductions".
"Barbara," she replied automatically being taken aback by his statement. He was a truly peculiar individual, but maybe she actually needed someone like that to help her with entering the mysterious human society.
She could never imagine that someone would be more lenient and understanding than people from the witches' village when it came to her not knowing some basic human things. Peter had never even once complained about her being clumsy with chores or her cooking tasting like a disaster (every time he ate that atrocious stuff she seriously wondered if he was fully human himself). Besides, he was teaching her many things, including reading and writing, which she truly appreciated. Unlike many others, the local doctor didn't believe that they should have kept women out of education.
He was also a surprisingly good teacher though his only student was also quick in learning new stuff. Peter seemed to be well-educated himself, but the daughter of Gunmar never asked him about that. If he respected her right to keep her past hidden, she felt it was honorable to give him the same.
His name meant 'the stone' as she discovered accidentally during one of their lessons.
"Good name," Barbara commented back then. "A really strong one and fits you perfectly."
Trolls built entire culture upon rocks, so names derived from the words for stone and different minerals were quite popular.
"Perhaps," the man just shrugged indifferently. "Never thought about that… Do you know what your name means?"
She nearly got caught in the moment and answered affirmatively. Well, she knew the meaning of her actual name - 'Barverra' meant 'the seeker'. It often surprised other trolls that the Herald of Doom actually had a relatively peaceful one. Well, that was another thing she had gotten from her mother, and Gunmar actually didn't mind.
But in any case, the woman had no idea what kind of meaning her fleshbag name held, and Peter provided her with an answer:
"It's 'one of the barbarians' if you wonder."
Somehow, it didn't sound nice. As far as Barbara had learned, barbarians were wild and destructive tribes… Though, probably trolls seemed the same in fleshbags' eyes.
The woman shared her rant with Peter (of course, omitting the troll part) and suddenly got a chuckle from him.
"You know, barbarians got their name because locals simply didn't understand their language, so it sounded like bar-bar to them," he commented with a smile. "Sometimes, I wonder if the lack of understanding is the root of all problems in this world…"
Back then the conversation ended nowhere as the daughter of Gunmar wasn't that interested in the man's philosophical musings.
In hindsight, their relationship had always been too weird, though Barbara hadn't understood it to the full extent back then. What were they exactly? Peter treated her as a good companion, most likely, even a friend. She, on the other hand… Well, it was too complicated. The daughter of Gunmar had come to respect the local doctor a lot, so he was way above just a means for survival and cover.
Of course, there were no romantic feelings involved at all - there could be none from Barbara for obvious reason, but Peter seemingly wasn't interested in her as a potential love interest as well. Not that she would ever complain about that - the situation satisfied her entirely.
And here had come the problem as the locals turned out to be quite nosy and simply couldn't shut up about two people of the opposite sex living together. There was something in lines of 'immoral' and 'sin'. The local priest was the worst in that regard.
It didn't matter to her - the Herald of Doom was used to way more horrible words thrown at her. She used to be the worst possible troll to encounter, after all. To her mind, Peter couldn't care less about someone else's opinion, but…
One day the man just told her that he had no right to ruin her reputation anymore. It would be way different if it involved him alone, but he couldn't do it to his closest person.
Closest person - apparently, that was how Peter viewed her. A peculiar wording, yet surprisingly fitting.
Not that their marriage had changed a lot - well, except for finally making the villagers shut up and mind their own business.
Of course, the gossips hadn't stopped altogether even after that - the locals weren't too fond of their doctor for whatever reason, and his unfriendly wife wasn't their favorite as well. Barbara could understand the dislike directed at her - she lacked some manners and was an outsider without any backstory. Peter, on other hand, was basically saving the lives of the locals, so shouldn't there has been at least some respect?
Most likely, it was because of his personality. Peter was extremely kind, compassionate, and caring, but had troubles with showing that, so often seemed to be rude and cold. He was the person who would go to a patient no matter what kind of weather or time of the day was outside.
'All lives are precious' - that was some kind of motto for the man, something he liked to repeat all the time. Barbara couldn't help disagreeing with that.
"Lives are too fragile," she noted once after another patient passed away despite all of her husband's efforts. "What is even the point in trying to prevent the inevitable?"
The woman half-expected Peter to get angry as he never liked her asking senseless questions, but surprisingly, he just shrugged and drawled:
"You're right - it's so easy to die. Disease, poison, bullet, or knife… So many causes for death… It would be so much easier if my job involved taking away lives. But, you know, I've decided to choose the more difficult road. So, as long as I'm alive, I'll try to save as many lives as possible…"
Barbara had nothing to say back to that. It was a surprisingly powerful position, and something told her it would have been incredibly foolish to argue more.
Yet, that stance turned out to be Peter's downfall. He got seriously ill after getting stuck in a horrible late autumn thunderstorm. The man had never been that healthy to start with, so his life just burned out fast like a cheap candle.
His burial went quiet and unnoticed. The entire village was celebrating someone's wedding meanwhile. No one grieved or even bothered to come for giving some condolences. Barbara and the local priest were the only two attending, the last one clearly not that caring himself as he was muttering his prayers in a rush, probably hoping to join the celebration soon.
Returning to the empty house took the daughter of Gunmar more than she expected. It was so weird - the road shouldn't have been that long. Probably, she should have been happy right now as there was no fleshbag living with her anymore, while she still had the place to stay and probably could use all that medicine stuff she had learned, yet…
Somehow, it felt empty.
The villagers still celebrated outside as if they had no idea what happened to their doctor. Or maybe it simply didn't matter.
Annoying.
There were too much laughter and silly squealing.
Irritating.
Someone started to sing a drunk indecent song.
Unforgivable.
Something delicate had just snapped, but Barbara didn't care at all. Everything else was in a haze, and when she came back to her senses, it was finally quiet. A familiar scene of the bloodshed and ruination was the only one she had seen.
Well, she was the Herald of Doom, in the end, so was it that surprising for her to obliterate every single soul in the village?
Yet she still couldn't fully explain why - it would be way better to keep a low profile and move somewhere else, not to start the bloodbath out of blue.
Peter would call that the easy way. Barbara wasn't him though. All those lives may have been actually precious, but to her mind, neither of the locals had deserved something like that…
There was no point in staying at that place, so Barbara gathered whatever she might have needed in the future and headed out elsewhere.
It was on the road when she had met her second man. Though could that one even count as one? Well, the daughter of Gunmar used him in the end, so she always took him into account as well.
That guy was a sleazy bastard for sure - the hungry look of his eyes told a lot. Barbara may have been extremely lucky with Peter, but this one hadn't even tried to hide what exactly he wanted from her.
It probably wasn't the wisest decision to stay with that person, but he had a carriage. Apparently, that jerk was a traveling merchant or something. Besides, the daughter of Gunmar didn't plan to stay with him for that long.
Perhaps, the bastard could even have a chance of survival if he had some self-control. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't thinking with the right part of his body. The rape attempt was the last mistake in his life as he ended as a mutilated mess.
Her third man was... Well, 'forgettable' would probably be the best description for him. Barbara couldn't even remember his name or face or personality, only the fact that he was her husband and she somehow managed to last ten years by his side. That probably meant that he wasn't that bad (or probably was quite lucky) - back during those days, the daughter of Gunmar still lacked patience and tolerance. His job? A farmer or a hunter, or maybe, a tailor - one of her spouses was a tailor for sure, she just had forgotten which one exactly.
That one also hadn't died on his own - the redhead was sure at least about this part. After all, it was the first time when she had to come up with a cover story. Back during those times, it was not that difficult as no one would try to investigate thoroughly. Simply thinking out a story about an accident involving bears turned out to be more than enough. In the end, no one in their sound mind would have ever believed that a human being, especially a female, was capable of causing such horrifying damage. Humanity started to forget about the supernatural - and that was a true blessing.
On the other hand, Barbara remembered her time with her next official husband in detail even though his personality left much to desire - he was loud, pompous, and liked to brag of his riches. That one was head over heels with her, that was for sure. The redhead found it quite amusing that any of her wishes would become reality as fast as possible. In a way, the mansion her snobbish husband owned was the best shelter she had in years.
That place had given so many opportunities and even some important connections - during this marriage, the woman made acquaintance with some magic users who kept helping supernatural beings to blend. It was a risky venture as Barbara wondered if those new associates could recognize her as the Herald of Doom and sell her to her enemies, but it turned out that those had pretty gray morals to start with and would help anyone as long as there was sufficient payment. During later years, she started to use their assistance a lot when she needed a new id or some coverage for her mess. The magic users worked swiftly and asked no questions, so the daughter of Gunmar could never complain.
However, all of that was after some decades had passed. For now, Barbara was enjoying the rich life. Of course, there was some need to pick up etiquette and other high society stuff, but by that point, it wasn't as difficult as her first lessons about human life, so she mastered those without much trouble. Yes, there were still many problems with keeping her temper and old habits in check, but the daughter of Gunmar was certain that her human cover was more or less passable.
The only problematic thing was the need to brew the human-turning potion occasionally. After all, sneaking from the mansion full of people was way more tricky than doing that while living in a simple house, but her husband was the love-struck fool, who would find an excuse for any of her weird behavior himself and silence any complaints. The servants, on the other hand, were more dangerous. Despite their master's multiple warnings, it didn't take much time for some wild rumors to spread. Well, to be honest, their suspicions were quite off as nearly everyone believed that Barbara was a witch who used some magic to enchant their employer. There was some logic in that conclusion as it fitted perfectly with her being some random girl from the middle of nowhere ending as the mistress of the house. Not to mention that her shady activity during some nights didn't make her seem an innocent person.
Apparently, wild rumors surrounding her had been a part of her new life or something. Well, not that the woman in question ever worried about that kind of gossip. Words were just words - those couldn't bring any harm. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a grave miscalculation. The rumors continued to grow and spread, feeding on the servants' paranoia, and Barbara only kept fanning the fire unwittingly before it was too late.
One day she started to take some interest in painting - her husband was a well-known patron for many aspiring artists and one of those - a shy and romantic youngster - was giving the mistress some lessons. It seemed that one was also enamored for whatever reason. Barbara still had no idea what exactly that boy had found in her - she wasn't that refined back then and often lacked tact. Perhaps, that kind of bluntness was endearing or something.
In any case, the naive artist didn't impress her at all. His works, on the other hand, were inspirational enough to try the art herself. It was quite ironic. Trolls were not that interested in drawing - scholars would probably illustrate their books, but anything beyond that was basically nonexistent as it seemed useless. Yet Barbara somehow found some satisfaction in depicting different things, though drawing something like animals, flowers or people seemed quite boring to her.
No, instead she got the inspiration from her past as one of the commanders in her father's army. Well, not that fleshbags could even appreciate anything like that. Barbara's pictures were full of gore, death, and ruination, the perfectly detailed illustrations of Gumm-Gumms trampling on fragile humans. Even her husband had troubles with praising those, even though he obviously tried his best. As for the servants… Well, those had no obligations to hide their opinion. They were calling those the pictures of Hell, and it only added fuel to Barbara's reputation as a supposed witch.
The catastrophe had come at the worst possible moment. Who could imagine that one the of foolish young maids would make a dare with her friends and follow the 'cunning witch mistress' during one of the nights? It was no surprise that the girl had seen more than she could even imagine and run back screaming about the 'devil wearing human skin'. That small incident had sealed the fate of the entire mansion - the daughter of Gunmar couldn't let the information go outside, so no one was allowed to escape.
Yes, there was a cold and calculated massacre. Perhaps, some decades ago, that would have felt like a thrilling hunt, but at that moment, Barverra was more frustrated and annoyed because such a convenient cover was blown, and it was mostly her own fault.
It felt like a true bad luck curse had fallen upon her after the incident at the mansion. Yes, the woman was lucky enough to have the connections to help her with covering the mess at least a bit, and she had moved far enough from that place so that no one would have recognized her. Nevertheless, as if by some joke of fate, Barbara had been exposed five more times. The reasons were different, so it was not like she kept making the same mistake, yet… Be it her own missteps, the lack of a coherent backstory, or suspicions of people around, her new lifestyle clearly contained too many landmines.
On the other hand, the woman couldn't deny that all of those had given her a lot of experience and helped to establish the set of her personal rules. The daughter of Gunmar already had some to start with - never stay too long at the same place and never tell anyone about her true identity. Each mistake just kept adding to the list. Not get involved with paranoiacs and superstitious people. Never show views questionable to human society. Think out a good background story, something trivial and generic. When in a relationship, go for ones who would allow some personal space. Never become a part of households with too many people. Stay low-key no matter what.
It was all about trial and error, but eventually, Barbara succeeded - her sixth marriage after the mansion massacre finally managed to go normally. She still disposed of her husband once ten years passed - there was no luxury of leaving loose ends. That marked the beginning of the more or less peaceful period - the woman spent the next several decades without any mishaps while polishing blending skills.
That was just a dishonorable life full of lies, but could a loser ask for more? Sometimes the daughter of Gunmar thought about the Killahead bridge. Maybe she had made the grave mistake when she had given up too fast. Opening it would bring back the old times situation, but was she even capable of gathering all the fragments herself? Of course, there was Bular as well, but two trolls were not that different from only one. Besides, there was no guarantee that her reckless brother was still alive.
Could there be any possible allies? So many tribes that pledged loyalty to the Skullcrusher were quick to change their allegiance once he was locked in the Darklands. There were also changelings, impure, creatures gifted by that witch Morgana, but could those be actually trusted? There weren't that many of them in any case, just some selected assassins.
In the end, everything was just futile. Or maybe the daughter of Gunmar was just looking for an excuse to explain why she was keeping with the pathetic existence.
Barbara had started to notice that she tended to forget about her old life sometimes. Occasionally, it just seemed so distant, not different from a story about someone else. Maybe one day lies would actually grow strong enough to substitute the truth. That thought usually spooked her greatly, making the woman go for a night stroll in her true form just to prove her own identity.
She didn't want to ever forget. As long as she remembered, she could still remain herself.