Tara couldn’t remember when, exactly, she started hiding to feign normalcy rather than to avoid an imagined scenario. She had a feeling it overlapped with when Itzun started to talk with her more—his repeated musings on how strange she was. A child wouldn’t be able to think so far ahead as to wish the best for her family, at least.

Still, finally saying it came as a relief. Maybe Itzun would finally stop repeating it over and over—she might still need to hear about a ‘purpose,’ but not what makes her odd. They still deserved a normal daughter, but at least Rene—and likely Adelinde as well, although she couldn’t be as sure for Matteo if he ever heard—seemed willing to try to accept a strange one.

She might regret this if her ‘purpose’ turned out to be something grand or dangerous—she had no way of telling, thanks to Itzun’s preference of being vague—but for now, she was glad.

Tara’s thoughts still followed the same course they usually did—her first attempt at drawing was a ship, Itzun, a rainy landscape, a family. Another one of her oddities, in a way; she’s never been on a ship, shouldn’t be able to remember dream-people so vividly, the landscape didn’t seem to be from Dakari, and she could recognize every face in the family but couldn’t put any names to them. Even the girl that looked like her didn’t seem to have the same name.

Rene sat on the other couch, eventually getting a book to read. She likely wanted to have some kind of discussion—she glanced over at Tara’s drawings with some interest, but didn’t ask after them—but remained silent. Tara preferred it, if only because it gave her more time to decide how she would tell them.

It only took Adelinde another hour to come home; Rene noticed first, looking in the general direction of the front door and calling to her.

“We’re in the music room. Is Matteo with you?”

“He’s trying to get his friends to help him move around things in the Qrian house,” Adelinde responded. She arrived at the entryway for the music room a few seconds later, giving both of them a little smile. “How were things on your end?”

“Mostly good. We were waiting for you.”

Adelinde nodded and took a spot next to Rene. She didn’t even ask after it—just waited for Tara to share. She likely assumed that, for the most part, Rene and Tara worked through what they needed to.

She closed her sketchbook, sat it aside, and took a little breath. She didn’t know how much she needed to rephrase or clarify, so she got right to the point.

“…I’ve claimed to be an omyn for a few years now—but I’m not. I still dream.”

Adelinde paused like Rene had, having the same look of confusion. She gave Rene a silent glance—asking for confirmation—and Rene nodded. They never actually verified if Tara was an omyn based on if others near her slept close; they just assumed based on how she could bind things.

Adelinde looked back at Tara. If nothing else, she seemed to understand now.

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“It might help if we knew what they were about,” she said gently. “Are they mundane, or closer to nightmares?”

Tara shook her head. “They’re not the kind humans would have, no. I’m always in the same place, with the same person—it’s like I’m awake, but minutes there can be hours here.”

“Who’s with you?” Rene asked, closing her book and putting it next to her.

“Itzun.” Tara reached for her sketchbook again, flipping over to the recently-finished drawing of the man in question. She held it out for Adelinde and Rene to see. “I don’t know if he’s a spirit or ghost or something else, but I don’t think I would have imagined him. He’s always been there. He’s able to control the dreams in ways I can’t; he decides when I’m awake or asleep, sometimes dragging me off without any meaningful reason.”

Neither Adelinde nor Rene seemed to recognize the drawing; she closed the sketchbook and put it down.

“I’ve never…actually had migraines—not as often as I’ve said, at least,” Tara admitted. “Every time I’ve fallen asleep in the middle of the day, it was because he wanted to talk with me.”

Both of them still seemed to understand. They were…more patient than she expected. Even while trying to help her, they weren’t forcing her to say more than she wanted to—just hoping she would open up enough for them to help.

Rene spoke up again next. “Does Itzun do anything while you’re with him?”

“He talks,” Tara replied. “More than I would prefer, if I’m being honest.”

“What about?”

Tara took a second to figure out how she wanted to explain it, then said, “He used to just…chat; comment on my day, question why I did or didn’t do something. He likes to find little things to poke fun at and try to get some reaction out of me.”

“So general conversation?” Adelinde said.

“Recently…” She trailed off and took a little breath. This would be the hard “When Matteo and I travelled, Itzun got…slightly more talkative. That only got worse when we had our ‘visitors’—he said I had a…’purpose.’ He won’t tell me what it is, just he’s here to help me with it.”

Rene paused, prompting Adelinde to glance at her. With a little smile that looked slightly forced, Rene looked at Tara.

“And you’ve always dreamt of him?” Rene asked to clarify.

“Far as long as I can remember,” Tara admitted. She didn’t enjoy Rene’s expression, nor Adelinde’s shifting concern watching it.

Silence fell, Rene somewhat frowning and Adelinde visibly not understanding why. She didn’t want it to last—it made her scared again—so she looked at Adelinde.

“…I also remember things I shouldn’t. It’s hard to explain, but…” She paused to picture it, then described what came to mind. “The first thing I can recall—my earliest memory—is of someone telling me a story. There’s thunder and lightning, and as soon as they agree to share a tale, the world goes black. I can’t remember much between that and when I would logically remember things, but Itzun once told me someone I recognized—Elina Dazuz—used to watch over me when I was younger, before I should have really understood faces.”

That did nothing to lift the quiet. Rene’s look…concerned her, to say the least. Adelinde didn’t seem fond of it either. The silence lasted for a minute before Adelinde looked at Rene.

“Does it mean more to you?”

She didn’t directly answer, offering her wife a light kiss on the cheek and standing up.

“I just want to confirm something,” Rene said. “It won’t take me too long.”

She gave both of them a quick smile and left before either could question her. Adelinde stood up to follow before hesitating and sitting back down.

Tara recalled—alongside a bit of sleepiness that reminded her of Itzun—the gravestone in that village. The connection didn’t help her growing fear. Adelinde noticed and started up a conversation—something lighter but meant to distract her from any concerns.