Dantia/Stories/The Sound of Return

The Sound of Return

The world crashed back into her like a tidal wave of deafening sound and frenzied movement. After nearly seven months in complete isolation and silence, with only the introspective musings of her own thoughts to keep her company, she was suddenly thrust headfirst into the cacophony of the waking world once more. It was an assault on her senses -- a riot of sound and motion after months of suffocating quiet. Dantia's mind reeled, unable to process the flood of stimuli. It was too much, too fast, too loud.

Her heart pounded in her chest, breath coming in shallow gasps as her senses buckled beneath the weight of the moment. Then, through the chaos, a familiar touch anchored her. Madigan. Without hesitation, he moved to her side, his presence cutting through the noise like a balm. His arms, strong and steady, wrapped around her, and she instinctively leaned into him. Though her body felt foreign after so many months of inactivity, responding to his affection was ingrained in her being. Words stumbled from her lips, barely audible in the storm of voices: "It's all so very loud."

With his arms still protectively encircling her, he guided her away from the frenzied gathering. The cacophony faded, replaced by the gentle lapping of water against the hull of the Dragon's Slave, their second home when staying in Crossing. Here, the world could be kept at bay, and for the first time since her release, Dantia could finally breathe. She remained there for days, cocooned in her personal space as she worked to readjust. They kept the curtains drawn to reduce the light, and Madigan spoke to her in slow, patient tones. He recounted the events that had transpired since she and the others had been taken, his usual brief manner of storytelling now a welcome comfort to her overwhelmed mind.

In addition to her sensitivities to light and sound, her sense of time had become untethered. Hours stretched and shrank unpredictably. Some moments felt agonizingly slow, while at other times, the entire day would slip through her grasp. Physically, she appeared as healthy as ever (and Madigan knew better than to ask an Empath if they needed healing), but more than once, he caught her tracing her fingers absentmindedly across the back of her neck.

Madigan remained close but never crowded her. He knew there would be many questions she would be asked to answer, but he wouldn't push her to relive anything before she was good and ready. And she just wasn't ready yet.