The human is named Corrine. Names are a purely human invention – a function of their reliance on language to convey ideas. What’s always amused it is that humans don’t just use this “language” to communicate thoughts and ideas to other humans – they actually think in it, severely limiting what they’re capable of thinking about. For instance, while all this had been rolling around its mind, the human, in her attempt to translate her thoughts into language, had only managed this:
It didn’t know what that meant. If she ever got around to asking it something, it suspected it would try to answer.
“Who are you? And how are you talking so fast?”
“The first question I can’t answer yet”, it thinks. It has to work hard to translate its thought into something Corrine – yes, it will start using the name now – will understand.
“The name humans call me is Aeolus.”
It just remembered that. It wonders how it came up with that name. It must have some significance. It decides to ask Corrine.
“Does that mean anything to you?”
“What? You – who are you? What are you doing in my head? “
The poor thing. So confused. It occurs to Aeolus that he’s never inhabited a female human before. He wondered if she was taking this differently then a male would have. He wished he could remember. He wished he could remember a lot of things. Why couldn’t he?
“I… I can’t understand what you are saying!”
Silly girl, it thinks. She could understand fine if she stopped trying to translate everything I thought into language. It decides to tell her as much.
“I’m not saying anything. I’m thinking. Stop treating this like it’s a conversation,”
“What is it? Who are you? Why are you in my head?”
“You’ve already asked two of those questions,”
“You never answered them!”
“Whoa, Whoa, Corrine?”
“I was getting around to it. I know this is a lot for you to process but – “
“What was that?”
Another voice, deeper and male.
“She moved! I swear she did. Look, look, she’s stirring!”
Her eyes open. Aeolus is amazed at the clarity with which she sees. He remembers vision, but he remembers it blurred, and fuzzy. Now he can make things out quite nicely as she turns her head. A ceiling. A rectangular light fixture. Now a face – older, sort of rugged looking, wearing a strange, light blue outfit. That outfit has some significance. What is it?
“A doctor? Why am I in a hospital? What’s going on?”
More faces peer in. One is female, with long wavy hair tied loosely into a bun. This must be Anna. The other has long hair hanging down in front of it, and a small beard on its chin. Is this Ethan? The one in blue pushes them away. She tries to sit up, but falls back down again. It wants a mirror. I wants to see what it’s new body looks like. He could go into her mind and pull an image, but she’s under enough stress already. Best to stay on the surface of her consciousness for now.
“Surface of my consciousness? What is that supposed to mean? Who are you?”
“It’s me, Anna. Your roommate,”
“That’s not coming from inside my head. Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, you did. And this is gonna get mighty confusing if you keep trying to talk to me as if you had to use language,”
“How else should I talk to you?”
“Pure thought. Ideas themselves. Words are a human construction, useless here,”
“Are you ok?”
“Where is here? Who are you?”
“Please stop asking that. Your friends are concerned about you. Best wake up and let them know you’re alright,”
She sits up. It looks through her eyes, at a hospital room filled with flowers and balloons. The Doctor, Ethan, and Anna are standing a little ways back now. She rubs her eyes and he sees her hands – small, pale, white. Tubes are stuck in one of her wrists. The doctor cautions her about this.
“What’s going on?” she asks, this time out loud. Aeolus decides to be as silent as it can for now.
“You’ve been in a coma for about two weeks,” explains the doctor, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Aeolus sees Corrine peruse her memory, pulling out the first thing she finds. A familiar figure – familiar to Aeolus, anyway. Could it be – yes it is. Danny! He’s fighting, blasting telepsis circles at everything. Then, suddenly, he explodes in a flash of blinding blue light.
“A bright flash of light,” Corrine finally relates, “And then I felt dizzy. And then I was here,”
“You passed out,” says Anna, “And you wouldn’t wake up. At first we thought it was alchohol poisoning, but you don’t drink, so we figured maybe you just fainted from the shock, and Luke carried you to the Wellness center, and –“
“Slow down,” says Corrine, “That’s a lot to process, and I’m still a little… I need some time,”
She lays back down. Slowly, gently, Aeolus peruses her memory. It needs answers as much as she does, and this is where he thinks he can find them.