Weight of the Burdens

[Fezzik]

Cybil walked along the road, the two huge stones still around her neck, tied together, weighing her down. Her Burdens. The manifestation of what she carried inside. She had seen the way others jumped to try to help, without understanding the purpose of the stones. She gained insight on what she had done in the past, to help people, ignoring the fact that she brought her own burdens to them as well, like an anchor, keeping her from being as much of a help as she could have been. But she couldn't throw them away; she had seen the effect of doing that on Others. Lauan tried, and she was a wreck for it. Cybil understood now. She had to carry her burdens, so she would not be a burden to those she helped.

And so she walked, into the crossroads, toward the Military Ward. Her three days where nearly up. She was bruised, banged by falls and by the stones, but she was still content inside. Content that she had completed the physical portion of this trial, and managed to do so without the help that was so readily offered to her, or the crutch of her own divine magics. And then she tripped....

[Fezzik]

Agony and pain

Cybil woke up, everything was muted, but bright, unlcear, but she saw the ceiling. She saw two people... Sister Linn and Hano, talking.

"... found her.... walking here.... unconcious..." These were the only words she heard Hano speak. The rest were unclear, almost mumbled. Cybil tried to move her arms, but a sharp stabbing pain, like thousands of spears plunging into her flesh was all she felt, and she groaned.

"..poor girl," was all the words the Broken One said.

They stood beside her. Cybil tried to speak, but soon realized that she wasn't making anything but noise, the pain, the deformities of the burdens, everything was crushed. Her body was broken, fire screamed through her nerves.

Hano placed a hand on her eyes, and everything went dark, like a nightmare, she was calm at first, then she felt the fall. Falling through the dark, unable to move, everything moving, but staying still, except for her, and she fell...

[Fezzik]

Passion of the past and cold.

She landed... on her feet. The bunks she recognized immediately. The soft warm beds of the Triumvirate. She was safe, the room was warm, inviting, but there was something odd about it. She was dressed... she had never worn anything like this. She would have felt like blushing, if there was a mirror. Hearts would race, blood would boil, if any man saw her in what she was wearing. Or lack there of.

She walked to the door, and touched it to open it. It was chilled, cold, she stepped back.

"Don't leave Cybil. Come back to bed." She turned at the voice. Cirion. Cirion? She felt the warmth of the room again on her bare skin. In all likelihood the colour of her cheeks matched the red of the shear, silken outfit she wore.

"No, This isn't right. This can't be right." She turned again to the door. She didn't understand it, but she knew she had to leave. This was in the past, this was a burden she still had, one that she still needed to carry, but not one that she could allow to keep her from moving.

"Youve always listened to me beofre. Com on - How can you hope to help other people if you don't help yourself first?" He pulled the blankets down a bit and patted the bed.

She shook her head. "No, I am happily married, you are in the past." Cybil stood up straighter, the weights about her shoulder lessening. "I amd helping myself... I must continue."

And she stepped into the darkness behind the door as she opened it. The room behind, snapping with energy, lights flashing, gathering at Cirion's feet, twinning their way up his body, engulfing his head. He screamed in agony and then everything went dark. Cybil shuddered, and continued on in the darkness before her. She wandered for days, weeks, stumbling over things. Everything became heavy again, and she collapsed once more, fading into the darkness around her....

[Fezzik]

Warmth and Solace.

She awoke, bathed in warm morning light. Soft on her skin, she was no longer cold, but warm, comfortable. Not like the room, but more pure and real -- lasting. A man stood before her, horribly broken, his limbs bending in ways that she didn't understand could be. He was balding, blood covering his arms, he should not have been able to walk.

"Hello, Can I help you?" She offered him her aid, stepping closer to him as she rose. He Merely chuckled.

"Hello Cybil." She stopped, not understanding how he could have possibly known.

"Have... we met?" He moved toward her one step as she spoke and then replied.

"Oh, I believe we have once or twice. I believe we have. I must say that I'm proud of you Cybil".

"Proud? I ... don't understand. Where am I?" She paused for a moment, looking at him again. "Are you sure you don't need help?'

He seemed unconcerned with his condition. "Tell me Cybil, when you said "I am helping myself", what did you mean?" He struggled one more step closer to her.

What was in that room is something in the past. A burden I cannot allow to hold me down."

His expression became thoughtful and responded quickly, "So does that mean you can be held down by thing in the present? Or Future?"

"My future burdens will not hold me down. I will learn from them, and carry them out of harms way of others."

The old and worn face continued to smile. "Then I was right to be proud of you. When we concern ourselves with our own burens, and only that, we become narcissists... but if we only concern ourselves with the burdens of others?" He chuckled once more and stretched out to reach for her, but as he did so... everything went dark again...

[Fezzik]

Wakefullness and Contentment.

She woke up, covered in mud, her face caked with it. She shook her head and stood up, quickly. She looked down. The Weights were still there... but they were not heavy. She could have lifted them with one hand, perhaps a finger, but she kept them on her neck. She still had to get to the temple to see Sister Linn.

Was it a dream, turned from a nightmare, or something more? She remembered her dream only in vague images. Sister Linn, Hano... Cirion, and the old man. Sister Linn would suggest it could have been divine intervention as well, but who would really know? Perhaps it was just her mind, telling her what she already knew.

Her next step... she didn't know what it would be, but she would apparently know it when it was over...