Remembering (Aphelion)

“You give pieces of yourself away, and never let anyone see it all. But I know who you are,” Lilac said.
“I hardly remember who I am.” Aphelion looked across the fields, the sun’s golden rays glowing between the hills. “I remember little of who I was, I only know who I am now: that I am broken and hold a darkness. But I can remember that I had joy. Though it was so long ago.” Silence, then the wind rustled the grass. Aphelion looked at her friend.
“What were your joys?”
“This place in this time. Many days I spent here, many sunsets we watched together. You have always known me.”
“You are my gentle and loving friend with a bright – if hiding – heart. And I am yours. Do you remember nothing?”
“Only pieces,” she shook my head.
“You are powerful. You are a warrior, courageous, and enough. There are many who are afraid of you, for you are alive and they have nothing. But you are back here now, back home. Hush, now, quiet; all is ok.” Lilac hugged Aphelion, there beneath the twinkling stars.
“I lost myself to my war. But you have given myself back. Thank you,”  she whispered. They sat in silence for the night, in quiet companionship. Her life would return on its own.