The relation between love and pain is complicated. Sometimes the boundaries between them grow thin, as we know beauty can hurt the unopened eye much more than all of the filth and pain that were soaked in ever could.
And so the boundaries of Áine’s and Trygve’s realms sometimes intertwine. How can one tell who hurts and who heals? Áine wouldn’t ever be so powerful if it wasn’t for her her own failure to summon light, and now she is in debt with Trygve’s darkness. After all, the pain one has been through can be really rewarding as it becomes empathy. It’s the fear of seeing suffering instead of the desire to see the well-being that drives me.
These flooding waters of love sometimes soak me the most when I see others suffering. I’m the one who falls in love when I see any hint of pain surfacing to a girl’s eyes. When I see someone faltering I sometimes feel the urge get close and try to say something to lift their spirit, maybe even give a warm hug, even though I’m shy and awkward for that. The sight of a dying dog riddled with diseases doesn’t fill me so much with sadness as it fills me with an unbearable desire to heal. What is keeping me from holding the poor creature in my arms and giving him a little warmth?
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