The Bunkhouse - Timmean's Bunk

[Timmean]

Sitting in contemplation in his bunk, Timmean Aeros slowly re-read the letter, for perhaps the hundredth time that week. As he reached the end, a torrent of questions poured through his mind, just as it had been doing for weeks now.

Lynn is alive. And safe. There's still so much I don't understand, so much that makes no sense, but... she's alive. And she's safe.

And yet... Phineas claims this letter has some hidden message. Why? What could she want to say that she couldn't just write down? Is she in hiding? Is she really in trouble, but couldn't say so for some reason? Does she need something, but has to keep it a secret?

Did I do the wrong thing, sending that reply letter? Am I exposing her to more danger? Or will her enemies come looking for her here?

...can I really be SURE this letter is even from Lynn? The handwriting looks right, but it could always be a fake. Or... she might've been forced to write it. And... can I really be sure Phineas isn't just wildly mistaken? He's a bit out-there, sure, but he still seems to be perfectly sane...

Growling in frustration, Timmean squeezed his eyes shut and tried to clear his mind. He wanted answers, but they seemed to be in short supply.

This is getting me nowhere. Whatever's going on, all I can do is keep working toward reading that hidden message. And... if Lynn DOES need help, I'll make sure I'm as well-prepared as possible.

His face set in an expression of grim focus, Timmean climbed out of his bunk, pulled on his cloak, and stalked out of the bunkhouse.

[Timmean]

In the evenings, after the long days of chopping wood, Timmean tried to get some rest. He tried to keep his mind clear, taking a few moments to review his progress before drifting off to sleep. But far too often, his thoughts returned to his quest, and the confusing mix of messages surrounding it.

The messenger was right, Lynn never knew me as much of a survivalist. And I'm still not much of one now. Trekking across the island would be madness, I'd never make it, and I'd be endangering anyone who came to help. She's just concerned for my safety, that's all...

...but then, why did she leave in the first place? Why hasn't she told me anything about what she's doing here? Why does she sound so frightened at the idea that I'd find her? It must be just concern, hearing of that death must've been hard...

...but did I even tell her about that? I don't remember mentioning it in my letters, but it's been months since I wrote that first one, and it was such a traumatic day, maybe I've just forgotten...

...that must be it, it must've just slipped my mind. In any case, my psychic training is going well. It's a strange feeling, this... expanded perception. I'm starting to see bits of things I couldn't perceive before, but I still can't read the message in that letter. Someday soon, hopefully... someday soon...

[Timmean]

"Mom says Hi and that she loves you."

"Mom says Hi and that she loves you."

"Mom says Hi and that she loves you..."

Laying in his bunk, the words rolled through Timmean's memory, over and over. They made no sense, none at all. Her mother was dead... he had buried her himself. The body had been badly mangled, yes, but it was still her, beyond any doubt. Perhaps some people really could face death and return, as he somehow had, but as much as he wished it could be true, he couldn't bring himself to believe it. Had she somehow returned as a ghost? A spirit? Timmean shuddered at the idea; he had seen enough of those since landing on the island to discount the possibility, but every such specter seemed either malicious, or incapable of intelligent conversation. It didn't seem possible that she could return in such a form and still be... who he remembered. And there was always the possibility that he had it wrong, that he had mixed things up somehow in his training, and wasn't reading the message correctly. After all, no one else could read it. Perhaps his mind was just creating the words he wanted to see...

"Mom says Hi and that she loves you."

[Timmean]

A few days after Lynn left, Timmean settled into his bunk and pulled a roll of hastily-folded papers out from under his mattress. Lying on his back, he turned the papers over in his hands and sighed; this wasn't going to be pleasant, but he didn't want to just put it off. This was too important. Sighing slightly, he slowly unfolded the papers and began to read...

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