Chapter 66: It's Bad for Me
I had been thinking, in recent days, that there is nothing further that I can do for my prisoner, or whatever I can consider her now. My attempts at healing her mind, with my powers, are no longer able to accomplish anything. Yes, I can keep on puzzling out her mind, but at this point, I am no longer healing, I am just experimenting, on a person that is not able to understand her exact circumstances. If I continue, it would be inhumane.
The gap between when she last traveled with her father, and the time that she woke up in my basement, is lost, beyond any skills that I have. What she experienced in that time, is essentially lost the ether. With the relative contentment that she displays of her situation, there is no real reason to open a box of troubles to try and reveal what she did during that time.
By this point in time, I have stopped observing her when she is left alone. It would be easier for me, if she had actually left, as I would not have to make a decision. Even when I had left her alone for hours on end, I always saw her personage whenever I arrived back home. It was comforting.
I am not sure when it started to happen, but she had started helping out with chores around the house. Simple tasks, such as sweeping and dusting the inside of the house were some of the first things that she did. I admit, I am lazy when it comes to doing things like that. And, with all the dirt that I working with, on a regular basis, I do not have the obsession of cleanliness that I had when I was in my other world. It took me several days to notice that she had even done anything.
When I had realized what she had done, all I said to her, was 'Thank You.' While it might have been blunt, and without any real feelings, she did give me a small smile, the first that I had seen on her face in what I would consider her new lifetime.
With the encouragement of my acknowledgment of her effort, she added more chores to her plate. Along with keeping the house clean, she started to do my laundry. Eventually she added on cooking some of our meals.
Why, in almost all stories, when someone talks about cooking food, it is always either the best food in the world, or other than that, nearly poison. Most people have some moderate ability, and knowledge, on how to cook. Vezena's cooking was not that much different from what I produced. The only thing different about it, was that I was no longer the one cooking all the meals.
Usually, I woke about sometime before dawn, naturally. Our meal to break the fast, was usually produced by me, a gruel with some fish, if there were any trapped, was the normal. As for dinner, or supper, or whatever you want to call an evening meal, was something a little bit more complex, but nothing ever extravagant, which is what Vezena took care of. It ended up becoming a habit, that I became expectant on.
With my trust on her containing herself to the premise, I started to leave the house and going into town, to ply my trade as a potter, and an Unleashed for Girts. Even still, she never escaped to her freedom, no matter how much time a gave to her. I even let her know when I was not planning on coming back till nearly dusk. Yet, still, whenever I came back home, she was there, and when it was late, dinner would be waiting on me.
She had developed Stockholm Syndrome. Me, her capture, she was caring, or at least acting, towards me. With how she was acting, I was essentially abusing her. I need to let her free, before this is all that she knows, and is comfortable with.
Ignoring that, I am relying on her.
During my nightly healing, I realized at some point, that I had stopped, completely, in considering her a prisoner, and started to consider her solely as a patient. Slowly, when my attempts at healing no longer proved fruitful, she became a companion to converse with. And, with all that she was doing around my life, I started to warm to her, as a person.
I have no idea when I started to realize the situation, but it came to a head when I bought Vezena some cloth so that she could be a second outfit. It was fabric dyed a color that no man would be seen wearing, green. Green, which is a color donating the growth of life, is a color that no man would ever be seen in, in this life.
Walking back to home, with a bolt of green cloth, I came to the realization, especially after spending more money on this bolt of cloth than all of the money that I did on all of my clothes, that she was a true human to me, that had a relationship to me. If she was someone that mattered little to me, even if I was to buy some cloth, it would have been something cheap and basic. Instead, after seeing the material, and then thinking about her, I thought that she would looking appealing in that color.
With that realization, and the recognition that I was no longer able to help her any further, it was finally the time for me to decide on what I should do with her. What I wanted to do, was gloss over the truth, and to keep acting as if nothing had changed. Given that I did realize I was selfish, in my desire, I also thought that I should let her go. Leave her to her own devices.
Though summer was gone, and winter was starting to approach, if she left now, for her own life, she had a reasonable amount of time to move into a village to start making a life for her. And, as I was the cause of her current situation, though not a lot of money, I could donate her some money to help ease her transition. And, with my relationship with Girts, if she wished to live in the village, I had some authority to ease her conditions.
Yes, that is what I should do.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
ApollyonDais
ApollyonDais Second chapter since returning, though I wrote this immediately after the other chapter. I will admit that I speed through this time, but I realize that I am bad at writing at conversations, let alone everything else.
Thanks for hopefully reading this.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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