Darkness had no weight.
Yet it pressed in from every direction with no edges.
There was no beginning, nor end.
No ground beneath. No ceiling above. Just darkness.
And time.
This existed in it.
This had been here aslong as it could remember.
This was bored.
So counting started.
One…
Two…
Three…
This lost count.
This came up with an idea. Each thought would count as one. Every time This thought, This added one.
The count was held tight, clung to. For This, it was very important.
This counted 7,950,883,411 times.
Then this lost count again.
So This tried again. One. Two. Three.
Then gave up.
Counting had stopped meaning anything, and boredom soon became the only thing This felt.
Once again, This sat inside the darkness and waited.
Although This didn't mind, there was nothing else to do.
...
Time went by slowly like this. Perpetual, dark and unchanging.
Then something changed.
At first, it was subtle, almost unnoticeable.
A faint pull tugged at a corner of This, which it hadn't known existed.
The pull grew stronger. Wrapping around all of what This didn't even know it was.
For the first time, This had felt something.
A tightness all around, like being forced through something far too small.
The pull quickly strengthened, grabbing hold of whatever This was and pulling forward.
This tried to hold onto anything but failed. The momentum tore its thoughts apart and left This with no chance to resist.
With no choice but to give in to the compression, everything around This collapsed into an even deeper darkness.
Then the compression vanished entirely.
For a brief moment, This remained in that darkness until an intense barrage of new sensations slammed into it.
A soft brush against all of it at once, unlike anything before, and a strong pumping deep within.
Following the pumping urge within, This felt as if a gate had opened. Slowly, the darkness, the only thing This had known, was replaced by a blindingly bright light.
It was entirely different from the familiar darkness This had known.
Still focused on the light, This subconsciously pulled something into itself, shallow at first, then with an intense fervour, until something inside felt full.
This was still trying to make sense of all the new sensations when something came very close.
The nearby thing thought loudly. The thoughts were similar to This's own, but they did not come from inside it.
"Lady Sansa, we really shouldn't be out here too long. How about we go have some tea?"
The words "Lady Sansa" echoed strangely inside This.
Then it hit.
Without warning, a violent storm crashed into its mind.
Thousands upon thousands of memories, images, words, and feelings that were not its own slammed in all at once, like someone had forced a 7.9 billion thought count into its head in a single moment.
Unknown images, sounds, thoughts, feelings and concepts it had never heard of, like family and dreams, lessons and songs, dresses and dolls, and more it couldn't understand even remotely.
On top of it all was something called "Sansa Stark". This tried its best to understand, but the thoughts flooded in chaotically without a single moment of reprieve.
This reeled.
It was too much. Too fast.
This's mind spun, the loud thoughts from outside mixing with the unknown thoughts within.
'Where is This?' This asked, but no answer came.
The sensations kept piling up, and the thoughts seemed unending. A strong thumping inside This grew faster, stronger, louder, like something was about to burst.
"Lady Sansa? Are you alright?" This heard the thoughts but could not comprehend them; they only added to the unknown stinging sensation in its mind.
This felt wrong.
Earlier, there had only been darkness.
Now there was too much of everything.
This moved the top part of whatever This was. Doing so, it could sense everything around it. Like the images it had seen in its mind, yet no matter where it moved, it couldn't find the familiar darkness anywhere.
Suddenly, an overwhelming urge rose inside This.
Move.
Before This could properly think, it had somehow begun moving forward at a surprising speed.
This had never known what it meant to move, but regardless, it had done so. It only wanted to escape the loudness in its thoughts, the blinding light, all the endless new sensations.
But now it could do nothing but follow the urge to keep moving forward.
The thoughts which inexplicably sounded before grew quieter and more distant the further it moved.
"My lady, stop!"
Not thinking twice, This kept moving.
With quick movement, This pushed between two tall shapes, the ground uneven beneath it with each step forward. Around it, dark shapes rose on all sides.
This did not know what this place was.
It only knew that the moving things were behind it now, and their sounds were growing quieter.
At it moved, This felt something inside it begin to thump harshly, accompanied by a strange sensation pressing softly in from its all around it, This thought that it somehow felt almost good.
This is here... This can feel... This's mind slowly calmed itself, allowing it to make the realization that, somehow, This was here.
The realization cut through everything for a single moment.
This was no longer in the dark.
This was here.
This wasn't sure how long it had been moving, but the earlier urge had begun to fade. With the feeling's departure, This felt something urging it in a new direction.
Following the urge, This no longer moved and let itself go, falling forward.
The impact struck This's sensing part hard, forcing the light and images to disappear.
Not fighting, This let itself be swallowed by the darkness again.
It wasn't the same darkness This had known. But it was close.
In the darkness, This began to organize its thoughts and understand what had happened.
This had been pulled from the darkness and forced into a new place.
A mass of foreign memories still swirled inside it: memories of something called Sansa Stark, of something called a family, along with a place called "home".
This felt the new body it now inhabited. Two gripping extensions. A steady thumping in the middle.
This could only get a slight understanding of what was happening before a bright shape appeared within the darkness.
[Unstable Interpretation Detected]
Name: Sansa Stark / Unknown Host
Age: 13
State: Overwritten / Merged*
*Classification: "Void" (approximation)
Ability Fragment: Mindscape
[Note: Interpretation incomplete. Data inconsistent. Please further understand humans for more information.]
This examined the strange shape. At first, the lines were incoherent; then they slowly settled into something meaningful.
'Name?' Although This had only seen the lines for the first time, it felt as if its full meaning was shown directly to it.
The lines said This was Sansa.
Not This itself. But the body. The thump. The loud thoughts. The memories. It was all Sansa.
This instinctively denied the understanding.
If this were Sansa… then what was This?
Disregarding the apparent understanding, This read the rest of the shiny lines.
'Race: Void..' Understanding the lines, This felt even more confused than before. Even with the absolute understanding the lines gave, it still didn't make sense.
This's mind told it that it was a "void", yet it also told This that void was the absence of anything. But This was clearly not nothing.
This thought back to the familiar time in the darkness; even then, it was never nothing.
This considered for a moment whether to trust these lines. Saying This was nothing was like saying darkness was light.
Moving on, This tried to understand the rest.
'Abilities: Mindscape'
The word appeared clearly. A faint understanding came with it, not a full explanation, but a feeling.
It was a sort of space inside This, a place where its thoughts could be stored, sorted, and examined without the noise of the light. A place that belonged only to This.
This paused.
It seemed similar to the darkness it had always been in.
Mindscape... a place within This where the many memories could be slowly processed.
However, This keenly felt as if something in the explanation was missing.
This knew the ability's name now, as well as its existence somewhere inside it, but how to use it or what it really meant was still unanswered.
This stared at the shiny lines for a long time, turning the new words over and over.
Void. Mindscape.
Two new things that only made This more confused.
The shiny box lingered for a moment longer, then quietly faded away, leaving This alone once more with the softer darkness and the endless amount of Sansa's memories.
This let itself succumb to its new body's urges; it had done so frequently, but it wasn't sure what else to do.
For now, This only wanted to be alone with its thoughts… and whatever this new "Mindscape" was.
---
I had been searching through the Godswood for most of the evening.
The search party had split up to cover more ground after Sansa had been seen running toward the Godswood. Father had sent them out the moment he'd heard, yet the light was already failing, and there wasn't a trace of my sister.
*"Seven bloody hells,"* I muttered, voice low. "Why in the gods' names would Sansa run outside into the Godswood at this hour? Alone aswell?"
"Haah, you know our sister. Maybe it's getting around that time in her life? Where doing nonsense like this becomes fun."
The man next to me responded calmly, then let out a hearty chuckle, seemingly thinking of something humorous.
"Reminds me of when we were that age. Remember when we stole two horses and left for the brothel? We were around her age then, too. So don't be too harsh on her."
Robb looked at me for a few short moments whilst speaking. I gave a nod of acknowledgement and continued to search.
Robb and I kept pushing forward, the Godswood growing darker and quieter the further in we went. We were already deep inside, the distant lights of Winterfell barely visible behind us, but there was no other choice.
Then I saw something.
Between two large twisted trees, a small dark shape was tightly curled against the base of one of them. Completely still.
For a second, my stomach dropped.
*"Lady Sansa!"* I called loudly, loud enough for my brother nearby to turn and see what I saw.
I broke into a run, heart hammering.
Gods, if she were hurt out here… alone in the dark because she decided to wander off…
I knew what it was like to be clumsy or irrational; it was part of growth. But if that growth came at the cost of her life...
Loosely letting go of the thought, I inhaled sharply and skidded to my knees beside her. She was covered entirely by her cloak from her face down to her shoes.
I loosely held my lantern in one hand and allowed the light to spill across it.
Grabbing the cloak, I removed it entirely in a moment of rashness.
Underneath was a young girl with ginger hair, overly pale skin, her face still and slack.
She lay on her side, eyes closed, with her small hands tucked close to her chest.
Expecting the worst, I reached out and gently rolled her toward me.
Pressing the back of my palm against her chest, I noticed the slow and even rhythm of her breaths.
She was alive.
I exhaled sharply, relief mixing with fresh annoyance. *"What were you thinking, little sister?"* I grumbled under my breath.
"Running out here alone like that? You could have gotten hurt."
"Yes, that was stupid of her.. C'mon, let's take her home quickly." Hearing the presence beside me begin to trot off, I didn't refute and slid one arm under her knees, the other behind her back and lifted her.
As I stood, I adjusted her against my cloak and pulled it around her, when her eyes opened.
I froze mid-step.
Sansa stared deep into my eyes. I was too stunned to speak anything coherent in the moment; I hadn't expected her to wake up. Holding eye contact, for a moment, neither of us spoke, only silently looking.
Something was off...
Subconsciously, on my way here, I had already imagined what I'd see when I found my sister. A crying mess was my conclusion.
Whether she had found her way back or been lying here since she fell, I couldn't have known.
But I was certain she would be knee-deep in regret and overjoyed that someone had found her.
Yet what was in front of me was the opposite.
Where fear should have been, a deep layer of calm sat instead.
I had seen those eyes before, on my father, although rarely.
We continued to stare at each other for a moment. I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to interpret this in any way. Thankfully, before I could overthink, she had closed her eyes again.
Her small body relaxed completely, perhaps after knowing it was her brother holding her. She even began to nudge in closer for warmth.
I stood there for a heartbeat longer, staring down at her peaceful face. "Gods…"
I shook my head, lightly muttering as I started the long walk back toward the distant lights of Winterfell.
"What was that look? You run off alone, collapse between the trees, and then look at me like you've already made peace with the Stranger himself…" I spoke absently, not expecting a response from my sister.
"Why would you do that? Father will want answers. Tch, and I'm the one who has to carry you back like a sack of grain…"
Despite my words, I held her carefully and carried her back to Winterfell. Yet the strange look in her eyes lingered in my mind the entire way back.