Morning Sun

The light of the morning sun was harsh. 

It only made sense that Dracula’s death (whatever death even meant for a being like him) didn’t bring Shanoa complete peace. In fact, she almost missed the sense of purpose his continued existence gave her. There was no longer anything to distract her from her newfound emotions, emotions that made dredging up memories feel like teeth scraping over raw nerves.

The people of Wygol Village had welcomed her into their little community with open arms, telling her offering a place for her to stay was the least they could do for her after all she’d done. Shanoa still didn’t feel comfortable spending too much time there. She didn’t want any of them to find her after a particularly painful memory made itself known, curled up on the ground and breathing so hard she couldn’t even choke out a sob.

Some days she wished she didn’t feel so deeply at all. How painful it was, to be human. 

And yet. 

She played with the cats. They eagerly batted at their toys until they finally tired. When they did, they flopped over hard enough to make a soft thud, which was quickly replaced with the sounds of purring. It was hard not to giggle at their antics.

She got her own sketchbook, despite Daniela’s insistence that she could keep the one she’d loaned to her. Already, Shanoa could see some improvement in her current drawings compared to her ones of a few weeks ago. She’d been practicing drawing the landscapes of all the places she’d visited. It was nice to finally be able to appreciate their beauty. 

She was grateful Aeon’s cooking skills had finally started to improve around the same time she regained her memories (and more specifically, memories of what good food tasted like). It was much easier to appreciate a warm, hearty bowl of minestrone when she wasn’t desperately trying to recoup enough energy to keep fighting. 

She could actually get to know the people who’d been so kind to her. Daniela was talking about making the picnic they’d recently shared a regular thing, Laura had been requesting to “spend more time with that beautiful smile”, and Irina kept telling her how excited her children got at the prospect of seeing her. They were little things, but they were little things to look forward to, bright spots in a confused tomorrow.

Tomorrow still didn’t come easy. Every good thing in the world didn’t change what had happened to her, and it weighed more deeply on her some days than others. But even on the very worst days, it was so much easier to experience it, go through the hurt, rather than endure that emptiness. 

Grief meant there was something to grieve for. Proof that loss did not come without love.

Even when it didn’t come easily, tomorrow would still come. It frightened her now, to think of a time when she’d been alright with things ending at today. 

There were good things in tomorrow, and bad things, and things all between. No matter what, Shanoa was grateful for the chance to see them. 

The light of the morning sun was harsh, but she could make room for it. 

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