To Return to Namelessness
They— the memories— came as sparks at first. They were fireflies of light, glimmering for the barest moment before dissolving back into the eclipse they came from. They drifted along the waves of time, emerging with the ebb and flow, dipping into the pool of her mind for a splinter of a second, a crack in the walls of her barricaded past.
But with time, fractures could only grow; stone could only crumble. Bit by bit, the threads of fissures wove together, until not even the strongest barrier could withstand the rift.
The memories came crashing down like a flood, a sea of light rupturing past the denial that had been holding it back for so long.
On the evening where she remembered it all, it was no different than any other. One moment she was standing guard for the prince, and the next moment, she remembered.
She remembered it all.