The echoes explained what they wanted, and she agree to journey on every quest. She’d make herself into a vessel for these creations to live through. She hid herself inside her mind, and she blocked out the discouraging thoughts, the ones that urged her to let go. She was resilient, passionate, and determined. She’d do whatever it took to repay her attachments for all the support and her ultimate gift: her imagination. She always said that someone could take everything from her, but her safe place, her head, would prevail.
She was aware of the effort this plan would take, but she carried on anyway. She’d rest when her time was over, and when that time comes, she could finally talk to them, hear their voices clearly, it’d be the validation they were real. And she will at last soar away like a bird and be free for eternity until eternity vanquishes.
This is the headspace of a dreamer. Someone who perseveres when all other light is blocked out. All other light, except the burning fire in their brain, their heart, their soul, the very essence of their being. A writer is alike no one else, for they were given the gift of storytelling, and those who write, never truly die. They live on through their creations.
They are the fire that can never be extinguished.
