It awoke, briefly, but when it did wake there was agony, and it tried to scream aloud, on instinct. No sound reported. It was blind, dumb, deaf, anosmic; the only senses offered to it were base and uncomfortable. It tasted something bitter, and dryness in the cavity where it knew sound should have emitted. There was touch, and an impression of where its body was. 

There was pain. Pain it had no reference for, no point of comparison, so it simply was pain. 

And it was cold and that compounded the agony in ways it could not comprehend. It tried to writhe, to give some feeble response in its body, but it failed. It did not move and instead sat still in its pain for time it had no way of counting or understanding. 

Then, there was an impression on the impression of its body. It was warm, multipronged. It followed its edges, touched the edge of the cavity where the sound was supposed to come out. 

Then, it fell back into the merciful embrace of sleep, as quick as the waking came. 

The next time it awoke the pain was less, and more defined. It went along lines across its body, and it could move, albeit slightly. There were bindings to its movements, though. The lines ached. There was definition to the pain. It pulsed and rippled and screeched to life, but it was less pain than before.

And, dimly, there was a new sense. At first it was small, then it grew and grew in its perception, overwhelming it and activating something like remembrance, incomplete and untotal. It heard the soft pitter-patter of rain on a roof. It did not know precisely what rain was or what it did but it knew the word and it knew the sound.

It was overwhelmingly gorgeous, the sound of rain. The pain was nothing in comparison. 

Another sound entered, and it knew this sound to be speech. It was difficult to parse at first.

“...hear me? Can you hear me… just move a bit if you…”

It writhed in response. This intensified the pain, which made it want to writhe more, to break free out of this restraint and into a comfortable position. 

“Oh. You can hear. Good!”

Another warm impression of touch, nearing the cavity, then sharp jabs and points as something entered the creasion, splitting it open - and the spitting, insensate, comparison-less pain returned. The cavity was opened and it was given a new capacity.

On instinct it screamed and wailed. Beside it, there was a faint noise of “shush, shush” and a warm impression on its cavity. It heard the shushing continue until its vocal cords ran ragged and its wailing devolved into a gargled moan. With it went the pain, fading back into its place.

“Shhhh, shhhh. It’s okay. I know. I missed you too.”

The hands caressed around the cavity, soothing the pain.

“I missed you, Lidiyana. I missed you. You remember your name, right?”

Lidiyana. 

It gave a remembrance, like rain, but more abstract, and more concrete. Lidiyana was a name.

It was named Lidiyana. 

It gave a rough, affirmative gargle. 

“I’m glad to have you again. I love you, but you need to go back to sleep soon.”

Lidiyana still ached. It burned and heaved against its own seams - the distinct, hard edges of pain that it was all too aware of. 

It wanted rest. It moaned softly, speech still beyond its abilities. 

“Okay. This’ll hurt, for just a second, and then you can rest.”

There was a pricking, slight pain, and then numbness, and then soon after, sleep. 

When Lidiyana next awoke, it could smell, too. It could smell the rain now, and a deep acrid smell of sulfur. Its body was larger now than it was before, and the larger form had more depth, more seams of pain, more control. It attempted movement once more, but it was still far too constrained. The edges where it was constrained brought further memories. The sensation of leather on skin rubbing it raw. It came to see its edges as skin - but it had no name for the seams of pain that ran through it. 

The other voice came again, loud and clear as the rain and the smell, so familiar and deep and soft.

“Lidiyana, I want to try something with you today. I want to try walking.”

It groaned. Skin met skin as the restraints around its outermost parts came undone - its limbs, now, as it understood them. Memories came more frequently now albeit fractured and incomplete. Something grabbed under the part of it that was once compressed against the restraints, and lifted it upward.

“Come on. Up we go. Just sitting up at first.”

Gravity now made more sense to it. It could separate things into up and down as opposed to mere side-to-side motion. The top limbs were more agile, and ended in littler limbs that it stretched around its seams, wiggling them and feeling. Its lower limbs were stronger, stable, but shaky. It groaned as it became accustomed to a full range of movement. Pain seemed to follow every joint as it bent them and stretched out. 

“We’ll get you off the table now. Are you ready?”

It gave a whimper of assent to the voice. The touch associated with it was associated with sleep, with comfort. That was all the assurance that Lidiyana needed. Shakily, the touch guided it off of where it once lay and into a standing position for the first time. Its limbs shook under its own weight, pain cutting into them as it moved. The floor was an entirely different sensation than what it previously knew of touch - hard, harsh and bumpy, unlike the smoothness of its birthplace. 

“One step forward. You understand?”

It took a shaking movement with one of its limbs. Painful, but the voice and the touch reassured it. Some part of it trusted the voice. 

“Another step.”

It pulled the other limb in kind, starting a limping gait supported by the touch. Each step lessened the pain a little bit, though it was still agony in its own fashion. 

“You did excellently, my love. We’re at your bed. Let’s lie you down, Lidiyana.”

The touch guided it downwards, coming in contact with the softness of a bed. It had forgotten what a bed felt like! The soft, downy feeling, the warmth of the sheets - it was no longer cold. For the first time Lidiyana knew true comfort in its bed. 

It groaned softly as the touch pulled a sheet over it. 

“There, there, my love. That’s all the exercise you need for today.”

It stroked at the thing it now remembered as a mouth. 

“My love,” said the voice, “It’s hard for you to speak. Can you try?”

It concentrated, remembering the words that had been said to it, and tried to form them out.

“Lllllllld. Llllllllll. Llllllid.”

More sounds emerged, each syllable spat making it more and more frustrated. It flailed weakly and disturbed its sheets. 

“Nalal. Alaaaaaalal. Rhhhr.”

It paused, again, and breathed heavily.

“Li. Di. Ya. Na,” it said, “Lidiyana.”

“Good! Good! You can say your own name!”

“Lidiyana. Lidiyana.”

It rolled the sounds over within itself, feeling it with its tongue.

It liked the sound. It chose the sound.

“Lidiyana, I know you’re still hurting.”

It was. 

“I can make it easier for you to go to sleep, by making the pain go away. I have laudanum.”

It listened to the rain.

“Do you need the help to get to sleep? You can just answer yes or no.”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Nnnn. Nu. No. Rrrrrrrrh.”

It couldn’t find the wherewithal to speak further or explain itself, instead releasing a soft whimper. 

“It’s okay,” said the voice, and the touch ran itself along Lidiyana to soothe it, “You’ll be perfect soon. Hush, hush.”

Lidiyana let itself listen to the rain. As it fell to sleep, it noticed wetness on its face, which was odd. With that, sleep came. 

It was awoken by the sound of footsteps.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Lidiyana felt the touch on its face, and was comforted. The pain was even less, now, and the comfort even greater.

“Lidiyana. My love. I have exciting news!”

It grunted an assent. 

“Today, I can give you back the gift of sight, but I need to drug you first, so you won’t feel as much pain. Okay?”

It vaguely remembered the idea of sight. Of seeing things. It did not have enough of a memory to recall what seeing felt like, but seeing felt like something that it would enjoy. It flailed a bit, and whimpered with the idea.

“Shh, shh. I’m going to give you the medication now. Stay still, and it won’t hurt as much.”

The threat of deeper pain was enough to quiet it. There was a slight pinch, and then Lidiyana was floating within its bed. It coughed, then gave out the new sound of a dry, hiccuping giggle. Soft, soft, and warm, with little pinches on its… face? That was the word, face, where the sound came out of. It was pretty sure that the face was used for other things. 

“Be a little stiller, dear.”

More memories came and went like the sound of the rain. Softness, cheeks, eyes. The pinches continued, tickling down into a depression in its face, then into another. The idea came to it - it was getting eyes. That pleased it. 

After a while of the soft pinching within the eye sockets, the voice came again.

“Alright, Lidiyana. Are you ready? Yes, or no.”

The laudanum made its tongue feel thick and sickly-sweet.

“Yyyyyyyi. Yyyyis. Yyyyes!”

It clucked and giggled again. Sight! This exciting memory was about to get unveiled to it.

Then, the pain came. Even with the dulling effects of the drugs, it screamed out as its face and head was racked with pain. A thought thinly pulled through the pain.

Why? Why is it like this? Why do I have to suffer? It’s not supposed to be like this with him.

Like that, the thought disappeared, unremembered as Lidiyana began to sob. It was faintly aware of the change, of the new sense that it was offered. It did not want to accept it. It hurt too much. 

“Nnnn. No!”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong here, my love? Open your eyes.”

The words did not come to it easily.

“Hhhhh. Urt. Lllidiyana?” it sobbed.

“I know,” said the voice, as the touch caressed her, “I know, love. I know. It hurts, but I had to do it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to see, love.”

It curled into a fetal position.

“I promise you that this is the worst pain I will ever inflict on you. I’ll never harm you like this again. It’ll never happen again. I promise.”

The touch surrounded it, held it close and tight as the restraints once did. It was almost suffocating. 

“I promise. You understand? I promise you that you will never, ever have to go through something like that again. I’ll protect you from that. I’ll keep you safe.”

The voice repeated those words - “I’ll keep you safe” - again and again and again as it held Lidiyana close, and with the repetition came a sort of belief. It opened its eyes for the first time as the touch pulled away. 

It took a second to see through the tears. It looked out over the room. In front of it was the table where it first awoke. A slight, wooden thing with sturdy legs and extensions where its limbs were once bound to prevent its wild flailing from harming anything else. There was much to harm too. On the various desks there were clear, transparent instruments and glasses all about, and there was enough memory there to infer that they would be fragile. It was overwhelmed, awestruck by the depth of the universe in sight - the dimensions of mere hearing and touch could not have revealed all of this to Lidiyana. 

And then, it rolled, and moved to look at the thing that was touching it and speaking to it. Before, the two things felt separate, if connected on some level; the stimuli were of different senses and thus different entities. But now the same entity that held it was the voice that comforted it. It laid on the bed with Lidiyana, gazing into it. It was pale, with a gentle smile, and it gave rise to the memory of the word handsome - a sensation that was so similar to the sensation of being touched, and the comfort of the voice, but applied into this new dimension of sight.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” said the familiar voice, caressing it again, “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk with you,” the voice added, “Talking is going to be difficult for you, at first, but if you practice at it, it should get easier.”

With gentle ease, this gestalt entity of touch, sound and sight propped it up on the pillow.

“I think it’s only fair that you ask the questions. You know who, what, why, where? Ask away. I’ll answer.”

It scrunched its face in concentration to make the new sounds. 

“Nnnname. Lilllllidiyana. Wwww. Wwwhat. Nnnname.”

Another word escaped it.

“Name. Nnname.”

It weakly pointed at the gestalt. 

“Oh!” said the gestalt, smiling, “I knew you’d forget some things - I guess you forgot me? I’m Gareth.”

“Gggggg. Garet. Garet.”

“Gareth,” it corrected.

“Garet.”

“I think you’re still a little addled with laudanum,” said Gareth, laughing, “Now, do you remember who I am to you?”

Lidiyana twitched with concentration again. There was something - something buried under the surface that it could feel about Gareth. The way it moved, the gestalt of its hands, its voice, its visage recalled something, but it was out of reach. 

“Nnnnno.”

“Oh, sweetheart. We’re lovers.”

That didn’t seem right. It wasn’t painful to hear it, but it didn’t feel right either.

“Wh. Whhh. whhy? Whhh. Whhet. What. Llllv. Luvor. Lovers.”

Gareth waited patiently for Lidiyana to complete its thought. 

“Oh, silly girl. You’ve forgotten more than I thought. Well, lovers are people who-”

It paused.

“They’re people, usually a man and a woman, and they take care of each other and help each other become better people.”

“Mmmman?”

The word held something in Lidiyana. 

“Lidiyana. Man?” he asked.

“No- I mean, in a sense, you are a man,” said Gareth, “But- well, you’re a human, but you’re also a woman. I on the other hand am a man.”

Woman. That made more sense, even if she didn’t know what a woman was, fully. She wanted to know more about what it was, though. The act of conversation was draining but each new revelation held a tiny bit of excitement for her. She needed to know more.

“Whaaat wa,” she said, stopping to correct herself mid-word, “Woman? Woman?”

Gareth stopped smiling.

“You’ve got good questions, my love,” he said, “You always had such a sharp mind. A woman - a woman is the opposite of a man. The inverse. That’s why they’re paired as lovers, so they can even out each other. Make each other better. And we’re going to make each other better; you’ve already made me better! I could explain more. You don’t always need to give a full answer, by the way. You can nod your head up and down for yes, or shake it for no.”

She wanted an explanation. She nodded.

“Okay. You- You probably don’t remember it, but you had an accident, and it disfigured you. I had to do a lot of surgery to get you back into shape.”

She nodded as a gesture to continue.

“You’ve still got a long way to go,” said Gareth, almost mournfully, “But it’s okay. I’m going to complete you. Make you better, like you’ve made me better.”

Gareth caressed her head, yet kept her at a distance. He never let his torso or his hips touch her, preferring to use his hands.

“Prrr. Promize. Promise,” Lidiyana said, afraid.

“I’ll find a better way of anaesthetizing you. It won’t hurt at all. I’ll keep my promise, best as I can.”

She shifted off of the pillow, and tried to hold him closer - to squeeze more comfort out of him. He was her lover. He was safety. He recoiled and moved away from her on the bed.

“Hhhhold. Hold!” she said, trying feebly to put her arms around him. The effort was painful, but she needed it. 

“Hold me!”

He didn’t, moving further away still.

“My dear. My love. You are still delicate from the operation. You shouldn’t stress yourself like this.”

He extended a hand, and she let her head collapse into it, exhausted. The hand was a paltry replacement for his entirety, but it was enough to satisfy her for now.

“You see? You’ve already tired yourself out.” 

He soothed her head, again and again.

“Once you’ve recovered from all of this, I will do exactly as you wish. I will be your king, your consort, your everything and more. That’s how you’ll make me better, you understand?”

Lidiyana nodded, relishing the sensation of the fingers running over her scalp.

“And the next operation - I will do everything I can to make you comfortable and safe. I will make you perfect, just like you make me perfect.”

He smiled again.

“Is there anything else you want to know right now?”

She thought, long and hard.

“Ooooaan. On you. Whet?”

“You mean-”

He laughed aloud, deep and hearty.

“Oh, you mean clothes! I hadn’t even thought of it.”

She managed out a laugh, not quite sure why, but then her chest began to hurt. She stopped.

“Yyyyyes. Ka-lo. Kl. Kl. Clothesss. What-t-t-t? Why?”

“Well, clothes are things to preserve your modesty, and keep you warm. I figured a sheet would be enough for you for now - your clothes are downstairs. But this is all stuff we can consider another day. You’re very tired, and you need your strength. For now, I want you to rest, and I have work to do. I’ll stay up here, right beside you, the whole night.”

He left her sight briefly before returning with two books and a pencil in tow. Books she remembered distinctly well. Reading was something she remembered being comfortable, and seeing Gareth read-

It soothed her, faintly. Made her feel warm inside.

“T-t-t-t. Talk. Lidiyana.”

Gareth smiled down at her. 

“You want me to…?” he asked, uncertain.

“Rrr. Rrr. Read. Read. Ttto. Me. Ssssssl. Eep.”

“Oh, love. This will put you right to sleep. It’s boring work. Just close your eyes and relax.”

She did, and listened. 

“Hmmm. Well, if I were to place the iron nodes beneath the sacrum, it could function as a channeling point for the requisite energy. Then again, it’d be unseemly and inelegant, and I’m not sure if the mathematics involved quite check out…”

He continued on, thoughtlessly, his voice comforting Lidiyana into the depths of sleep. Just as she began to lose consciousness, she heard the rain again and was happy for it.