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Apathy
Forgotten

Forgotten

Galen Vesa

“Tree huggers?”

Well, I don’t think this place had an equivalent of green peace or the hippie movement.

*The elves dolt! We must leave, now!*

That did not sound reassuring. Whatever would upset a mighty dragon to such a degree could not be healthy for my already fractured mind. I turned and on slightly less wobbly legs, marched back into the room.

Whatever chance of leaving we had, evaporated the moment a fair maiden entered my room. She came holding a silver tray set with bathing utensils and a towel slung over her forearm. Seeing the empty bed her frame froze while her eyes wildly searched the room. When our gaze met, her arms gave in, sending the tray and its content clattering against the floor.

“Allynna…”

She whispered.

“You awoke… Allynna!”

With two swift steps the girl crossed the distance separating us and slung herself around my neck, crying. I could hardly grasp the meaning of the torrent of words escaping her mouth. Her words and sobs mixed into an incomprehensible slur.

*Well, I tried. The guards are coming. Forgive me my dear dolt but I have no strength left to stomach their presence and... they may not like me back either. Leave this village as soon as you can if at all.*

*Do not seek me, do not speak to me. Pray if we are to leave this place alive they cannot realize what you are. Play dumb but do not lie! They can tell and your punishment shall be harsh.*

With that, the bumbling lizard deserted me, sinking so deep within I could no longer feel her. And not a moment too soon. At least ten armed guards rushed through the door and additional five came through the balcony. An army of beautiful, fair skinned, androgynous and armed to the teeth people encircled me, watching in fascination.

“…never… promise me… you’ll never leave again, promise me!”

The elf I now held in my arms calmed herself enough to become intelligible once more. Her wet eyes drilling into my blank face.

“I’m sorry but, who are you?”

Whatever hopes she had, my calm voice obliterated them. First her eyes became larger with surprise. Then her lips trembled with horror.

“No. No. No!”

She pushed me away so vigorously I ended up slumped in the arms of the guard that stood behind me. Without Erta’s help my legs wouldn’t hold me much longer anyway so I welcomed that help and to dispel any further confusion, I added:

“Where is this?”

The owner of the arms now holding me, studied my face for a moment. Was there a trace of sadness that I saw in them?

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“Go after her.”

He ordered in a much manlier voice than his face suggested and at once several elves rushed after the crying girl.

“Do you know who I am?”

He asked again without any hope to the answer I would give him. As if to get an excuse for what would come next.

“No.”

I said, giving rise to frantic whispering between all those gathered.

“Enough. Methea, take her to the temple. Make them do what they can. Perhaps not all is lost.”

As if forcing himself to do so, he picked me up and handed over to the most girly looking elf in the room. Perhaps the only female there? Her attire differed slightly from the rest gathered there. She held me for a moment then entirely disregarding my body weight, swiftly leapt out of the balcony.

Buildings, branches, people and birds shied out of our way while she run, biting her lower lip and stealing occasional glances at me. In no time we reached a plaza paved with white shining bricks and parceled from the rest of the village by a wall, more ornamental than practical. A commotion already starting around the place where we landed.

“What is the meaning of this?! This grounds are sacred…”

Someone in a pink robe shouted at us, yet froze the moment Methea turned towards them.

“Mother, it is as you feared. She does not remember.”

The priestess face changed entirely, pain replacing the scorn she had towards intruders.

“Come, bring her in.”

They ushered me into a hastily emptied room of the temple and, thoroughly examined. I am no stranger to checkups. Plenty of doctors have given me one in the past but still the sensation of alien fingers probing places where not even my fingers dared to venture… one more memory I do not need.

“Does that hurt? Do you feel any discomfort?”

The priestess spend a great deal of time poking, squeezing and prodding at my chest. Aside from my eyes, the most unnatural part of my elven anatomy. At long least she stopped and with closed eyes leaned toward my chest for a moment.

“A musk of ferru. So that’s where they came from.”

She straighten herself.

“You truly are masterful abomination. I prayed you would never awaken.”

Her words carried no spite. A simple statement of fact she made.

“You are not the one who’s flesh you wear. Are you?”

“No.”

“Did you kill her?”

“No.”

Not even once she let her eyes off me.

“I should have disposed of you the moment I laid my hands upon your body when they brought you here. Instead I must now pay for the sins of my youth. You are only alive for the spirit queen demands of me your safety in exchange of the debt I burdened myself with.”

She sat behind a desk in a corner. Silent, her hands procured a long and thin pipe she set alight and inhale.

After a great deal of silence, spoke again watching my bare frame through the curtain of emerald smoke , heavy with spices.

“There is a law among my people,”

Even though my outer appearance hardly differed from her, she made the distinction. This was her village and I was an outsider.

“Sometimes when a person suffers a specific injury, they become as if their body forgot its mind and creates one anew. If such happens, that person is made to bear the mark of forgotten until the sister moon closes its eye.”

“By that time, either the one who was lost returns or the name itself is laid to rest and that person is born to a new name and a new life. More often than not far away from their place of birth.”

She snuffed her pipe and cleared out the ash.

“I shall mark you forgotten,”

She took a tiny jar of ointment and a wooden brush.

“And as there is nothing for you to remember here, you’ll leave as soon as the time comes.”

Dipping the brush, she begun drawing lines upon my forehead. A sort of a spell? Perhaps. The ointment drew mana in as it dried upon my skin. She finished the patter with a long vertical line through the middle of my forehead.

“Remember,”

She held a blueish robe before me.

“The mark will prevent people from questioning you and you behavior will not be frown upon but perhaps politely corrected. ”

“If you value your life, spend that time quietly.”

She let go of the robe before my hands could grasp it. A crumpled fabric now rested upon my feet. One final gesture on her side.

“Will anyone else notice?”

For a moment more she put her eyes back on me.

“No. Not without a gift similar to mine.”

Once more she tamp her pipe and let her eyes wander beyond the window.

“Leave me now. I wish to mourn in peace, my child is no more.”