“[color=black]It was dark,[/color]” the other her said. 

[color=black]She[/color] hopped up onto the boat’s railing, looking out over the lake and mangled shore. Every inch her eyes passed over gradually began to mend itself. The bottomless schisms knit themselves shut, the unseen gale quieted and the waves moved unbothered, until the water eventually settled into the familiar black mirror it was always. The moon’s reflection coalesced before the moon proper, but soon enough the sky did heal. [color=black]Quinnlash[/color] reached up and pinched a few shivering stars from the blackness. They fizzled on her fingers, unfixable or excess, and so she flicked them into the water where they were quickly swallowed. 

The restoration seemed to calm her, or perhaps it was the other way around. “[color=black]It was dark,[/color]” she said again, steadily. “[color=black]We’re not scared of the dark. It’s what the dark means, that’s what’s scary. It’s not about what’s in it, it’s about all the things that aren’t there. All the things outside of it we’ll never know. Darkness is a cage.[/color]” 

Her eyes turned ashore, and up, to the cliffs where there was no house. Her face twited into a scowl. “[color=black]We spent our whole lives trapped. Blind. Stupid. We escaped. Maybe it didn’t like that. Maybe the dark wants us back.[/color]” 

Walking down invisible steps she made her way onto the deck again, and back over to Quinn. Her face was a portrait of determination, but there was doubt in the depths of her eyes, a seeking uncertainty. 

“[color=black]We’re happy now. We won’t go back. We’ll fight if we have to, we’re good at that—it’s what we were made for,[/color]” she said. “[color=black]I don’t…want to be scared. We don’t deserve it.[/color]”