Chapter 18: A New Routine

Reality defies certainty.
An exception proves the rule.
A song of stars is shared alone.
Christina struggles with a new normal.

Being nearly certain is a funny thing. You feel something with all your heart and soul that you know deep down to be true. But somehow even deeper down there's a tiny part of you that sits, plagued with doubt and goes; 'But, what if?' And you don't want to believe it, you try to push it so far down that you can almost convince yourself that it's impossible. But truly getting rid of that little sliver of fear and uncertainty, that's what's really impossible. So in the end, you only end up nearly certain.

And sometimes you realize the fool you are for having been any level of certain at all.

The first morning of this new nightly routine was that kind of moment. As I stirred in my bed I had vague memories of some kind of unpleasant dream from that night, but nothing so horrific as the previous night had been. I took a few minutes to wake up completely, before remembering what exactly I was wearing. Even in that moment I was so sure that I had made it through the night without any bedwetting issues, but as I stretched my arms and slowly rested my hands on my lap, I realized there was a weirdly distinct warmth between my legs, and a slightly heavier bulk than I remembered falling asleep to.

Pulling my blankets off in a panic, I got to see exactly what I feared. I had wet the bed again. But that wasn't entirely accurate I suppose, as the only thing actually wet was my diaper. "No, thats not possible. . ." I muttered to myself in shock and disbelief. To be completely honest I'm not entirely sure why I thought it was impossible, as what was happening now was exactly what had happened before. Even as I grappled with the reality before me I had to admit, what I felt now was at least better than what I had experienced yesterday. Instead of waking up in a cold pile of wet sheets and soaked pajama's, everything was warm, soft, and contained. As I shifted my weight on my bed and felt the slight squish of the padding beneath me, It was a weird sensation but in comparison to the sopping wet mattress from before, not an ultimately bad one.

I didn't try to hide anything from my guardians, not that I would have even known how to. I put my diaper in the small bathroom waste bin before washing up and joining the others for breakfast. When Lena asked me how I slept, I knew what she was really asking and timidly admitted that I wet the bed again right away. She praised me for being honest, letting me know she understood how hard and embarrassing that must have been for me. Her bringing attention to my embarrassment truthfully only made it worse. She also followed up with the ask; "Isn't wearing protection so much better than waking up in a puddle of wet sheets?" I tried not to respond but when Cynthia reminded me to be polite and answer the question, I reluctantly admitted that, yes. It was better.

I was informed that going forward, as long as I continued to wet the bed, I would need to keep wearing diapers while I slept. Each night just before my bedtime at eight 'o'clock someone, likely Cynthia or Lena, would come and make sure I was changed before I was settled into my room for the night. It was an easy enough routine from the sounds of it, but it wasn't the whole story. Late into the evening of that first day, I wrapped up my personal time after dinner and went to my room just in time for eight 'o'clock. Once I got there Cynthia was already waiting for me. I assumed that after changing myself in front of Lena and having proved I could do it, that being supervised while I changed would be a one and done situation. Sadly as Cynthia handed me a fresh diaper that night, she made it clear she wanted me to change in front of her as well. I tried to tell her that I already showed Lena that I could do it without issue. Cynthia didn't care, stating that she needed to make sure I was changed and this was the simplest way of doing that. Knowing better than to argue with her, I reluctantly obeyed. Trying to get it done as fast as possible before the sorceress lost her patience.

After that lesson well learned, I made sure that I was in my bedroom each night at least ten minutes before eight, and that by the time one of my guardians came in to check on me, I would already be changed. After this all they needed to do was have me pull down my pants or lift up my nightgown to show that I was properly "padded", as Lena had taken to sometimes referring to it as. Regardless of how embarrassing it all was, it was nothing compared to the alternative.

To continue my casual embarrassment, after the first day a new dresser was added to my room, one that held all the supplies I needed to change myself each night. Two drawers dedicated to diapers, and one more for powder and wipes. Lena told me that each night I would get to choose my diaper from the selection here, and each morning I could dispose of it down the same chute I used for my laundry. Apparently it was able to differentiate waste from laundry, and send both to their rightful destinations, by way of magic I had to assume.

Lastly as Lena was introducing me to the new piece of furniture and the routines associated with it, she also told me I was expected to use powder as I changed every night, and properly clean myself each morning in order to take good care of my hygiene. "And if you don't keep yourself clean or, gods forbid, you get a rash. . ." Lena had told me. "Then just like with making your bed each morning, you'll have proved it's a responsibility you can't handle yourself, and others will have to take care of it for you."

I worked religiously to keep powdered and clean after that. The smell of talcum became a very familiar scent. 

I wish I could say that being compelled to wear diapers to bed each night was the worst part of this entire thing. But in all honesty what was much worse was the reality that each morning, as I continued to be plagued by unrelenting nightmares, I continued to wake up and find my diaper was once again wet. I tried so hard to find ways to make it stop. I had hoped that if I could go without nightmares for just one night, then maybe I would also be able to make it through to the morning without having an accident. But like a child, I couldn't control my unconscious mind, or my unconscious body. 

The first week or so was all exactly the same, and each morning I would slowly and steadily lose hope. But then one morning, just over one week after my guardians promised me it would be a temporary measure, I woke up at last to a breath of fresh air. 

My sleep almost felt lighter, as for the first time in days I had managed to wake up without a nightmare. No panting, no jolting up in bed, instead I simply slowly came to consciousness. Not even fully understanding if I was awake as I came to my senses. For a moment, feeling the soft fur of a stuffed animal between my arms and my vision blurry with my head buried in my pillow, I thought I could be back at home, in my childhood bedroom, my parents sleeping just on the other side of the manor, and my life exactly as it should have been. But sadly as my senses came to me, that blissful delusion faded away and I was reminded exactly where I was.

But gradually as I took inventory of my senses, I realized that for once I felt different about how I had woken up. Patting myself down in nervous excitement, I realized that it was true. I had finally woken up without having an accident.

I rushed to get myself ready that morning, darting about my room in frantic hurry to see my guardians at breakfast. Leaving my unused protection neatly on my bed, I decided it would be a good idea to have proof that wetting the bed was no longer an issue. I had the fastest morning bath of my life, threw on the first set of clothes I found and rushed down to the dinning room.

My guardians nearly had to physically hold me to keep me calm. The moment I rushed into where they were all calmly eating breakfast I couldn't contain myself. "I did it! I woke up dry! I don't need diapers anymore I promise. I did it!" I yelled frantically with excitement. Rowan nearly spilled his morning coffee as he took a sip with how surprised they were by my entrance, and to their credit I don't think I had ever come to breakfast with such a frantically excited mood.

As Rowan tried to recover from nearly burning himself with his drink, Lena looked at me with pleasantly confused surprise written all over her face, clearly still parsing my excitement exactly for what it was. Cynthia on the other hand, seemed entertained by my sudden outbursts. I couldn't tell exactly what amused her but I tried to believe that surely she must have been happy that my outburst wasn't a negative one for once.

"Oh? What's this now?" Lena asked innocently. 

Rowan pounded his chest as he tried to settle any liquid that was trapped in his lungs. "That's very nice to hear Christina . . . I'm sure that felt very nice to wake up to this morning." He said, trying to empathize despite focusing on regaining his composure. 

I didn't much care either way, as I was truly of singular mind. "This means I can stop wearing now right?" I said, my eyes glancing between all my guardians, unsure which one I should focus my gaze onto.

A silent chuckle gently jerked Cynthia's shoulders, and my other two guardians shared a quick look between them. After a moment of silence, I broke it, trying to keep the pressure up. "You said it was temporary, and that I only needed to wear them until I stopped having accidents. Well I've stopped, so precaution over, right?" I stammered. Feeling less certain of my victory with every moment that passed. "Do you not believe me?"

"Of course we do, Christina." Lena started, intentionally cautious as she spoke. "But, we're just worried is all. We're very proud of you for waking up this morning without having an accident, and you should feel very happy about that as well! But . . . just because you woke up dry once. . . . Don't you think you should stay protected for just a few more days to make sure it's all passed?" She offered, trying to phrase the suggestion as gently as possible. 

But I wasn't having any of it. "No, that's not fair! You said it was until I stopped wetting the bed. Well I stopped! That mean's it's over!" I yelled, stomping my foot in frustration. 

That was when Cynthia perked up. Even just seeing her sit up from lounging in her chair was enough to remind me exactly what my place was here. Even before it happened, I could hear the snap of her fingers echo in my ears. My shoulders dropped and cowered instinctively upon realizing my blunder.

But instead of the harsh sound of the sorceress's snap, she used only her words instead. "Careful, Christina. Mind your manners." She warned, staring me down.

Recovering from even the mere thought of her full disapproval, I nodded my head meekly in agreement. I wouldn't cause any trouble. I wouldn't I promise.

Lena in turn looked over to Rowan for support, and it was the Lord of the estate who gave the final decision. "Christina, not that she needs my approval, but I agree that you should keep wearing for at least a few more days. Just to be safe. If you keep waking up without any accidents after a little bit longer, then we can talk about it." He decided, much to my behest. "But this way in case anything else should happen, you won't have to have a very unpleasant morning, and none of the maids will have to worry about . . . cleaning up after you." Rowan said, in a failed attempt to not belittle me with his wording. 

In my head I tried to balance my need to protest with the need to not cause trouble, and was positive my guardians could see how visibly conflicted I was. After a moment of stuttering on my words, trying to find an acceptable outcome, I finally spoke up. "But, you promised. . ." I protested, despite knowing I was defeated. Hoping to see even a hint of remorse from my guardians, the closest was instead a small look of pity from Lena.

"Our decision is final, Christina." Said Cynthia, her voice full of authority.

After a moment of letting it sink in, Lena spoke up in futile attempt to cheer me up. "Why don't you come eat breakfast with us, Christina? You must be hungry?" She offered, gesturing to the first empty seat at the dining room table. 

But I didn't feel hungry. Sadness and despair now infected my mood and had spread to my stomach. "No, thank you. I think I'd rather go spend some time in the library." I mumbled. Despite not wanting to phrase it as a question, I still waited patiently for my guardian's permission. 

Lena looked mildly concerned but nodded all the same. "Of course you may. But if you do get hungry please just let one of us know, alright?" She asked.

I nodded submissively, before walking away from the three of them, letting them eat their breakfast in peace. As I walked away I took stock of my emotions. It wasn't just sadness and despair; hiding deep down, there was anger as well. 

Later that night, after my anger and frustration had only grown throughout the day, Cynthia came to make sure that I was changed before bed. Of course I was, I would never willingly let any of my guardians demand I change in front of them again so long as I had a choice. But after she wished me goodnight and left me to my room, I took the diaper off. I had proven that I had stopped needing them. I wasn't going to be subject to their embarrassing rules for a second longer than I had to. I was going to show them that I was right, and after I kept waking up dry, even without their 'protection', I would prove how idiotic this entire thing was from the start.

The next morning, it wasn't until I didn't show up for breakfast that Lena came into my room, only to find me sobbing quietly on my bed, curled up in a puddle of my own wet sheets. 

After she spent some time consoling me, Lena led me to the bathroom to clean myself up. After that we all gathered in the parlor once more. I was ordered to stay silent as my guardians discussed my actions in front of me like I wasn't even there. Obeying that order was easy, as I likely wouldn't have had it in me to speak up regardless.

Cynthia suggested that since I had proven to have such a disregard to follow their rules, that they make it impossible for anyone but themselves to undo the tapes of my padding. Effectively forcing me to go to them each morning to get changed. I nearly started to panic as Lena nodded along to Cynthia's proposal, but thankfully I didn't even need to cry my own protests, as Rowan found mercy within himself to save me from that fate. "Look at her though, Cynthia. Seeing her this morning like she was, I don't think she'd ever be eager to repeat this. I think her current state is punishment enough." He voiced on my behalf. Lena looked hesitant, but Rowan placed his hand on her knee in support, looking to her in silent conversation. After a moment, Lena nodded in agreement, and Cynthia conceded to both of them. Rowan was right, as much as I hated being forced to wear diapers each night to bed, I didn't ever want to feel the way I felt waking up this morning, ever again. 

Of course, my guardians still agreed that even if it wasn't in such a poignant manner, my actions shouldn't go completely without punishment. Lena offered a more simple alternative, but one that still stung none the less. Despite how recently I was gifted it, Lena announced that she was taking away my violin, until she decided that I deserved it back. "If even when we give explicit, clear instructions, you can't listen to us, then in turn we won't be listening to you." She said, clearly enjoying her own karmic justice.

After that, most nights started to follow the same pattern. Go to bed, have the same nightmares, wake up wet. Sometimes, after a night with no, or sometimes even pleasant dreams, I would be so lucky as to find I had made it through the night dry, but those nights were few and far between. Less than being a source of hope, now it was an occasional novelty; a minorly pleasant way to start my morning. Nothing more, nothing less. Despite my distain for it all, somehow, I even started to get used to it. 

************
Day 50
************

It had been a quiet few weeks since I had woken up to a cold dose of reality. Since then, I had tried my hardest to behave and go without incident, at least the types of incidents I could control. Thankfully Lena seemed to notice my effort, as earlier today she finally presented back to me my violin. Despite the fact that I hadn't had my instrument for that long before it was taken away, I had come to love the distraction it afforded me, and the days without it stung so, so much. Those days were hard enough as I was slowly coming to terms with my bedwetting, and as it was I had one less tool to help take my mind off it all. But it didn't matter anymore. My punishment was over, and I wasn't going to waste one moment.

After breakfast I rushed outdoors, eager to leave the house and my guardians behind me. With only my Violin in one hand and bow in the other, I went to the one place I knew I would feel the most at peace; Damien's unfinished grove. 

As I made my way to the small garden sanctuary, I noted how much it had changed in the month since Damien had first shown it to me. The hedge walls now much more grown in, starting to cover the entire area in a small shroud of shadow. The few original plants now felt much more grown in, their beds no longer pristine from their original planting but showing the wear of rainfall and wildlife. Fewer and fewer plots now sat empty in the ring around the walking path, though the path itself was still comprised of rough unkempt dirt, nearly yearning to be completed as to match the rest of what the grove would become. It had been wonderful to slowly see the progression of the grove day in and day out, as it was a regular occurrence that I would steal moments away to come sit amidst the unfinished garden. Though sadly running into Damien during my visits was a much less frequent occurrence, and today sadly seemed to not be one of the rare exceptions.

Despite his absence, my solitude was not unwelcome. Feeling the soft dirt beneath my feet, I went to sit down on a bench that had recently found its self brought here with all the other recent additions. Though Damien had talked about getting a log bench to match with the rest of the forest aesthetic, currently this was just one of many grey marble benches that dotted the rest of the garden. I wondered if Damien had temporarily moved it into the grove so I would have a place to sit in the meantime. I smiled at the thought. 

Settling into my seat, I rolled my shoulders back and raised my instrument to my neck, beneath my postured chin. Taking a deep breath in, I briefly considered what to play. But before my mind even felt fully settled I found my hands being pulled along by my bow, and my fingers dancing in parallel with the strings beneath them. Despite the weeks it had been since my instrument had been taken away, in addition to the months I spent without the ability to practice at all, the music came pouring out of me as naturally as it was to breath.

Following the natural sway of the tune at my fingertips, my song echoed of relief. Humming across the garden in harmony with the morning rinsed freshness of the air. Every note lingering on the leaves around me as it settled into the soft soil beneath my soles.

While my music filled the air around me with a sense of ease, in my own ears somehow it didn't ring quite as true. In it's own way it was truly breathtaking to have my violin back, but even with it, there just wasn't any escaping so much of my new life.

But as my music failed to sooth my soul, someone else found their way into my song. 

"Forgive me for interrupting the beautiful music, but if I may. . . It's wonderful to see you playing your music in the grove again." said Damien, as he approached through the entrance to the grove. His voice caused me to jump in my seat ever so slightly as I was pulled from my trance. 

I was mildly surprised. Once or twice before my violin was taken from me, I did have the chance to sit on the soft ground and play my music for a stolen moment or two, but I had never realized that Damien had been close enough to listen when I did. I suppose he must have been out of sight, likely tending to a different part of the grounds, but close enough to hear me play. 

Suddenly overcome by the anxious percussion of my own heartbeat, I smiled nervously at the gardener. Lowering my instrument from my neck onto my lap and placing the bow by its side.

"If you don't mind me asking, why the break? I hadn't heard you play, either inside or out, in weeks." He asked. 

My pulse quickened as the tone of my anxiety shifted, suddenly reminded not only of my punishment of the last few weeks, but also the both previous and current events that incited it. With no desire to even hint at the what really took my music away, I ducked my head low as I lied to Damien. "I . . . guess I just wasn't feeling it, before." It was a lie, but thinking to how my own music, even now, failed to reach my own ears, it wasn't completely untrue.

Damien curled his lip into a tiny smile that didn't reach the frown that had spread across his eyes. "Well, that's a shame." He noted. 

I sighed as I barely heard what little he had to say. Suddenly stuck in my own thoughts. The longer I sat dwelling on my attitude towards my own music, the more I realized that despite how seamlessly my fingers found their marks on the strings, or casually I conjured new tunes, it just wasn't the same as it used to be.

"How did your music use to feel? If you'd be willing to share." Damien asked, almost as if reading my mind. 

I looked upon Damien for a moment, his gently curious face allowing me the space to answer earnestly. He sat patiently amidst the silence, affording me time to find my truth. 

I relaxed my shoulders as I sat up to think, allowing myself a moment. "My father . . . he was the one who first taught me how to play the violin. Of course he wasn't my only teacher, but he was my first. I remember each time he encouraged me to play for the rest of my family, each time he clapped for me as I grew past a struggle, every time he told me how much he enjoyed my sound." I paused to look at Damien, who still waited patiently as he could tell my story wasn't finished. "He often told me that it was a shame that it was only those inside our walls who could hear my song, so he encouraged me to play my music out among nature. Sometimes I wonder if he only actually said that so I would give the rest of them some peace and quiet, but because of that I grew to love playing my violin in our garden." I looked to the grove around me, and even out past the entrance to the greater garden grounds. "Of course, our garden was so different from this, it's hard to describe really . . . but still, being so close to nature, surrounded by music, it used to give me so much peace." I exhaled deeply. Closing my eyes and rolling my head back towards the sky. With the crisp cooling air, I could almost imagine those days from a life that every day felt further gone bye. 

Before I could fully enjoy it, I pulled my head out off my imagined clouds. "But, I guess recently it's just not the same." 

I took a second, staring over at the empty plot in the center of this little slice of nature. An empty throne for a flower that wasn't ready to grow. I wondered now if that flower would ever get the chance to take its rightful place in this garden tribute, or if fate would be so unkind as to have other ideas.

Glancing in Damien's direction, I could see him pondering all I had given him. He looked at peace, like it was possible he understood what exactly I was really saying. But, he stayed silent either way.

After yet another moment filled only with our reflections, he finally spoke. "Christina, when was the last time you saw the stars?" He asked earnestly. 

Almost startled by the normalcy of the question in regards to all I had said before, I had to take a second to come up with a proper answer. "I, suppose it has been a while . . ." I responded, tentatively. Unsure of the questions relevance, but willing to go along either way.

He gave me another sad twinge of a smile before continuing. "The stars are a beautiful thing, and I don't just mean for their place above us all, shining from the heavens each peaceful night." He said, turning his head up with a sigh. He looked almost melancholic, but hid the emotion so deep within the layers of his eyes.

"To me at least, late into the night, there's a moment of pure quiet. The whole world falls silent, finding its peacefulness in sleep. Guided to dream by those heavenly jewels hanging above us . . . so many people find themselves in those restful nights." As he kept his eyes to the sky above, it was almost as if even in the bright afternoon sun, Damien could see the stars just as clearly as he could in the dead of night. As he basked in their imaginary light, it was almost as if I could feel their glistening faces being reflected back at me, glimmering from the corner of his heaven bound gaze. "But to some of us, it's in that midnight hour, when everything else in this world falls away in sleep. . . that we can find that same tranquil space that otherwise escapes us. Sometimes it's only when everything else goes silent, that you can truly hear your own song as it rings the loudest." The smallest curl of his lip waned as I could tell he had lost himself in the moment. Looking only to the sky, absent now of that blissful image, he at long last closed his eyes and let in a deep gentle breath, letting the gust of the spring wind flow peacefully through his lungs.

"And in those moments, with the stars lighting the path within you, and the song in your heart calling to you louder than any other, you truly know where it is you're meant to be." He let the wind sweep across his resting face for another passing moment, before releasing the breath he had held inside, returning it once again to the nature around him. 

I could see his words move through him as he spoke, and I understood. Those tiny moments of quiet solitude that afford you the peace you otherwise lack. Especially now in this new place, I understood that need all too well. And through his words, I longed to find that space where my own music could fill my mind. 

I said nothing. Letting the soft silence he spoke of linger in the air around us, as we both looked to the twilight horizon beyond the sky. 

I wished I could stay long enough to see that twilight spread across the sky, and even longer to witness the stars be uncovered by the veil of night. But I knew that soon enough one of my guardians would come looking for me for one reason or another. And I didn't want them to find me here, in Damien's grove. If they found me here once, they might start to look for me here again.

Taking gentle hold of my violin in my hands, I slowly stood up from my seat. "I should get going. . ." I said sheepishly, not wanting Damien to feel he was the reason I was leaving, but also not willing to explain what it was that motivated me. 

Damien stood to attention, formalizing himself as I prepared to leave. "Of course, apologies for keeping you." 

I scoffed at his words. "Please don't be. It was . . . rather lovely, actually." I said, smiling softly, having a hard time imagining a world where such an apology would be necessary.

Damien smiled cheeringly to me in turn. "I hope so." He said, almost wistfully. "Oh, and I heard from Mistress Arkinian that next week, the four of you will all be taking a trip up north for a few days." He paused a beat before continuing. "I hope that during your travels, maybe you can find the time to see the stars, and find the peace to hear your own song." He smiled again, promise creeping out and reaching his eyes. "And maybe when you do, I hope you might consider coming back to share it with me." 

"Good night, lady Christina." With that, Damien took the smallest of bows, and turned about, departing the grove and leaving me with that note. I thought about what he said. His sweet intentions and the alluring possibility of seeing the stars. But beyond that hope, there was the ever present sense of dread. 

We're traveling somewhere together? Where? For how long?

These questions burned my mind, taking it away from what would otherwise have been a wonderful send off to a shared moment of peace. But instead, all I could think about was one thing.

Why are we going north?