The owl swopped down onto Libitina, landing beside her cheek. It paused to hear for movement outside the door before bursting into excited cries.
"Master! Master! You are finally awake!"
Libitina was too tired to talk so she communicated with Tudor in her mind. 'How long was I out for?'
"Four days. The woodcutter got someone to fix your bones and other injuries, but they are still broken, of course."
'Tudor…I think I remembered everything.'
"What?" The little owl widened its eyes in shock.
Libitina closed her eyes. 'There was blood, and plant monsters and so many screaming people. I remember walking down the streets of Enzak. I felt suspended from reality. But then I got really angry, and I wanted blood and violence and rampage…and I think I got what I wanted.
'I always had some recalls of similar nature while we waited in the forest, but I think those recalls were actually memories. I was not in Enzak, but somehow I was.
'I guess you're right that I am Persephone.
'But I don't want to be. Tudor, I've done something really bad! I think I've even…killed. There was so much blood on the ground, and so many screams…'
Libitina shut her eyes firmly as tears leaked out.
"Master! Calm your emotions! Calm down! Listen to me: breathe slowly. Breathe! It's okay, everything is over, but Master must calm down if you don't want to lose control and hurt the nice people here."
Libitina took in deep breaths and tried to follow Tudor's advice.
'Tudor, I don't want to be a monster.'
"Master is not a monster. But if Master wishes so, then Master does not have to be one. Master can choose not to be a monster."
'Can I really? Even if I am Persephone, the synonym of all disasters?'
"Yes. If Master so desires, yes, you can."
'…that's what you promise me. I will remember it.'
Libitina knew Tudor was just reassuring her and it was illogical to press this issue, but she could not help it.
Sometimes, when one is mired deep in despair, a person would be willing to reach for the faintest light, if it represents a hope of coming out from the darkness and being forgiven. Libitina would shamefully accept all the comfort Tudor could offer her, even if they were white lies.