The silence after my question was total. It made the distant, ever-present wails of the Mistlands feel unnervingly close. She didn't move, and the black veil masked her expression, yet I felt her undivided attention. The pressure was suffocating.
It wasn't until what felt like minutes had passed that she managed a faint shrug. "I am but naught," she sighed, raising her head. "Of what importance is mine bygone to thee?"
It took me a moment to parse the archaic phrasing. What use did I have for her past? I turned toward my rucksack, to the faint glow of the device within.
"Since I came to this place," I said, "I've recorded everything. From images to sounds. If I die here, at least the record survives." I turned back to her. "Your story is the most important thing in this hellscape...maybe that's why I'm here. To ensure it isn't lost."
She bounced the idea around in her head. I had to lay my cards on the stone floor.
"Not only is my FloCaster broken, I can't even raise my Flo output without my mind shredding, and I don't know how much juice my equipment has left. But you," I gestured frantically, though she couldn't see it. "you sit here like you're above it all!"
She managed a quiet, sarcastic scoff.
"Teach me."
"…Doth thou deem that a fitting query?" she replied calmly. She was right.
"..Please. Are you willing, or able, to train me?"
She smiled, a that's better kind of smile. "And what," she asked, tiltting her head, "would I gain from this...transaction?"
"Do you have anything else to do?" She fell quiet as I look past her, at the tendrils binding her arms, at the forgotten armour in the gloom. "And frankly, I am terrified of you. But if I get stronger, under your guidance, maybe I can help us both."
Silence stretched until she broke it with a hearty, warped laugh. "An amusing gamble," she said. "It is well thou didst not touch my bonds. Else, thou wouldst have been as dust."
I asked if she was joking. She was not.
The reality of my situation was almost idiotic. Stranded between a rock and a hard place, I scoffed in my mind. But a resounding pity settled over me. Maybe what they both needed in their isolation was a friend.
"It's been said," I offered with a shrug, "that some things are better when you're not alone."
Unbeknownst to me, the words made her freeze. A single tear traced a path down her veil. I asked if something was wrong.
"Thou reminded me of someone," she whispered.
"So, what do you say," My voice softer and steadier than I felt as I picked up the recorder. "You talk. I'll listen and learn. And when you wish...I'll talk too. A story for a story."
She looked up, her expression one of pure surprise. "Thou wouldst..share thine own tale?"
"It's only fair. You're entrusting me with your history. So I'll trust you with mine."
She looked down at the floor. "A story for a story," she echoed, weighing the concept. "Very well."
She straightened her kneeling posture as much as the bindings allowed.
"I shall start at the beginning. Where I was considered the Church's abomination.