The life he lived

The man he held in his arms used his last strength, striving to see Khael’s face thoroughly. As if making sure he was not mistaken. And when he fully recognized him, the reflection in his eyes wavers in disbelief. You can read the sadness in his dying gaze.

The man’s neck gave up on turning to him as his blood ran down to the crummy ground of the narrow street.

Khael, panicked, desperately looks for someone’s help. Unfortunately, there’s no other person in sight. Thus, he had no choice but to carry an almost lifeless body alone. The limp body was heavier than he’d thought. It was exceedingly exhausting physically and mentally, fearing that someone might have died at his hands. It added to his already overflowing anguish, fueled by guilt and regret.

Khael repudiates that there’s only a slim chance for the person he carries to survive. After a prolonged desperate shouting--asking for help--he finally found someone to help them. And eventually, they arrived at the closest hospital.

He had almost passed out with the tension ramming him. There’s no need for someone to tell him how he would look. Khael knew how terrified and distressed he was while waiting to know what had become to the person he attempted to kill.

S-should I run?

Khael almost puked as he covered his mouth in disgust at his thoughts. How did he end up as he is now? Those thoughts rushed through his head as tears ran down his cheeks while staring at his bloodied hands. “Please… don’t die… I am begging you,” he begged. “Forgive me... please don’t die….”

*****

It’s been a few minutes since Khael woke up in an unfamiliar room—narrower and darker than the former. He had a dream; it was a part of his memory from the past. It was excruciatingly clear as if he was reliving what he had felt and experienced.

In the meantime, he still couldn’t comprehend what had happened to him. Fortunately, he regained the memories he’d longed for the entire time. His name, his family, and the life he had. Fair enough—it keeps him in the right frame of mind where he still knows who he is. And it was an important matter, except if you take away the fact that he was in a different body.

Khael groaned, perturbed by a lot of thoughts running through his mind. He has to strengthen his resolve despite being utterly bewildered by things that ensued him. “Though, I don’t know if I can do more of this,” he said, rubbing his forehead.

Khael then heard a knock on the other side of the metallic door. The slow, jarring sound of creaking follows through as it opens, revealing someone he wanted (in hope) to see. He remained silent, his back glued to the wall behind him, thinking of why the old guard had come to see him.

“How have you been?” asked Grant. The old guard slid down and took a comfortable seat on the ground in front of him. “I’m sorry if we had to do this. We have something important we need to ask of you. But we can give you some time to recover first.”

“Is that so, but can you tell me at least what it is all about?” asked Khael, hoping for a sincere response from the old guard.

“Do you remember what we talked about last time?” the old guard asked. “Your ignorance on that matter proves that you really lost your memories.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Khael, you’d be in deep trouble if others heard that you know something about… that person.”

“I don’t understand. We’re just talking about a portrait, right? A damn portrait!” he said aloud out of frustration.

Khael immediately reminded himself to be calm, despite his frustration. “I-I’m sorry for that.”

“No, that’s fine. You’re calmer compared to those who met the same fate as yours. Most of them had lost their sanity as soon as they realized their empty existence. It made them fall to a frightening scale of existential crisis. And some of them had tried—“ Grant halted on his words as a gloomy expression hinted at his face. “Anyway, there’s someone who wants to talk to you. I might say that she’s probably someone who can help you.”

“And who was that?” asked Khael curiously, not quite sure if hearing the phrase “someone can help you” really meant it was.

“Someone I know personally,” said Grant merely. “And oh… before I forgot. Here’s some food and make sure you eat, alright? I’ll be heading now,” the old then guard carefully stood up--with all his efforts despite the struggle caused by his healthy round figure. Grant nodded to him as he made his way out of the room.

Khael let out a long-suffering sigh. He knew he had no choice but to obey them and go along for now. Besides, he doesn’t want to cause a commotion like yesterday. Nonetheless, he knows that none of it was his fault. He just set aside any tiring thoughts for the time being.

It’s strange how fine Khael was, despite the things he experienced. As odd as it sounds, he could somehow endure and was barely bothered by occurrences he encountered. As if there was someone who was influencing him throughout.

Was it the person who originally owned his body? Was Khael actually who he thought he was? This could all be a dream. As then he will wake up sometime later. Then what? Khael thought he already had….

After all, his life was long gone when the person he accidentally killed didn’t make it. What’s worse is that—it was his friend, a close one to him, that he mistakenly killed. Khael surrendered himself and admitted what he had done with no excuses. And he spent the remaining of his life in prison, and to his awareness, he died there.

Khael stifled a laugh. He realized nothing was amiss when he woke up inside a prison cell. Except he was in a different body. What a weird dream if it really was.

*****

Khael spends his time moving and stretching his limbs to cope—whenever the occasional pain from his body pesters him. And then he heard someone coming on the other side of the metallic door. He nonchalantly stood from the ground as the door opened, revealing Grant and a woman with him.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Khael was initially uncertain of her age due to her serene appearance. That tells—how beautiful she had been in her younger days.

With his usual smiling face, Grant and an elegant-looking woman are now standing in front of him. “Khael, this is the person I was talking about yesterday, Dessia Adhilla.” Grant started as he introduced his companion.

Dessia gave him a slight nod and a simple smile. Even with the beauty within, it didn’t remove the wrinkles formed on her delicate face.

Khael greets her back with a scant nod. He had assumed that—she might be someone that seemed important. He simply based it on how she dressed and the overflowing elegance she radiated just by standing there.

“Pardon me for this sudden request of mine. I have something essential to discuss with you. I hope it is fine,” the old woman sounded pleasant in Khael’s ears.

“I-It’s fine. I have nothing else to do, anyway.” Khael wryly responded.

“Still, thank you for giving me this chance,” said Dessia, then shifted her gaze to Grant, who suddenly leaped from his comfortable sitting spot on the floor.

“Ah, yes, I’ll leave the both of you now. Dessia, you can now talk to him privately and have fun, I guessed,” said Grant with an awkward grin and immediately made his way out of the room.

Suddenly, an eerie and silent atmosphere bloomed. Khael felt a chill all over his body.

Dessia unexpectedly leans slightly toward him with a worried expression. “Pardon me. You seem to be affected by the veil I cast. Should I tone it down a little?” the old woman gestured her hand on her chin. “Though I’m afraid if I make it weaker—it’ll not be enough to prevent someone from hearing our conversation.”

Khael wasn’t still fully convinced throughout the strange occurrences he encountered. As of now, he was treating everything with an utmost reminder to himself that it would make sense anytime later. And he really hoped it would.

“I’m fine, so… what do you want to discuss with me?” asked Khael, still tensed and in a tremendous state of bafflement.

“Right, let me get to the point. How much of your memory can you still remember?”

If Khael tells her he has already regained his memories, how can he explain that he was another person? And what will be the repercussions of telling such a thing to someone he has only met? He wouldn’t gamble such a thing.

“Forgive me. I know how frustrating and terrifying your condition was,” Dessia paused as she took a deep breath. “And I know how terrifying that is...”

She was at least considerate and sensitive enough to take his reaction as being afraid at most. Khael had to commend her for that.

Dessia Adhilla took something from her long dress pocket and handed it to him. It was a piece of trim, hand-carved wood. It amazed Khael as he mistook it for a monochrome photo. The drawing on the small canvas had drawn simplistically, with pure fine details. Two people were drawn to it; an adorable girl and a charismatic-looking boy.

“That charming little girl was me,” said Dessia as she grinned proudly.

“It doesn’t seem a surprise,” Khael retorted with flattery. “So, what was the purpose of you showing me this?” he added with curious intent.

A pleasant smile formed on the old woman’s face. “It’s been almost five decades since my father drew this portrait of mine and this cheeky boy… Grant.”

“I-Is that him?” Khael stuttered in surprise.

The old woman chuckled. “Yes, that’s him. Having to see the same reaction every time someone sees Grant when he was young never gets old,” though her cheerful demeanor abruptly changed. It was not as if she had done something strange in the room again. It was only her short queer silence that made the atmosphere denser. “Khael… even I-I can’t believe this little girl was me.”

“...What?” Khael blurted out.

“The memories I had until that day. Almost half of my lifetime of memories had vanished and never been able to regain anymore.”

“Don’t tell me….”

“I am sorry, it seems we don’t have time anymore. Forgive me for this, but may I know how much of your memories have been lost?” Dessia asked earnestly. “Everything? Or was there some you still able to remember?”

Khael felt a sense of urgency in her voice. Was he right about thinking there was something more to this? And so he decided. “Everything… everything besides my name. I know it was strange… but that’s what I can explain only even to myself so far.”

“Besides your name? Were you able to remember anything aside from that?”

“Nothing,” he answered. “But can I ask you something this time??”

“I would like to answer the questions you have in your mind now. But I’ll have you wait for that,” as then Dessia mumbles, something Khael couldn’t discern. “Even if it’s just a frail one, it would be too suspicious if they sensed the veil I made. It sucks that this is the extent of my skill in this branch.”

Suddenly, the heavy atmosphere trickled. It feels like Khael broke free from something heavy—weighing on him the entire time they talked. His breathing reverted to normal, and the strange ethereal presence he felt as if someone or something was floating around him. Though its very existence had just become weaker and not entirely disappeared.

“Khael, come with me. If you choose to trust me, I’ll protect you.”

Khael got startled. “To protect me? To what—“ he halted as soon as he realized what she had meant by that. “Do you mean… I was in danger?”

“We hope that wasn’t the case. Grant told you something about ‘her,’ right?” Dessia frowned, and her face traced with worry and uncertainty. “So, what was your answer?”

“Her? C-Can I at least think about it first?” Khael inquired. He doesn’t want to make himself look desperate. But he badly needed someone’s help to figure out what he needed to know about everything, or at least himself.

“That should be fine. Does until tomorrow enough for you?”

“I think that was enough for me,” Khael responded with uncertainty.

“Someone’s coming,” then the old woman leaned closer to him as she whispered. “Khael, heed this warning of mine. Whatever they ask, don’t ever say anything related to her. Or even if you genuinely know nothing, never mention anything related to Astelta.”

Shortly, they heard a firm knock coming from the other side of the metallic door. As it opened, it revealed a person six feet tall. It was the Sergeant, Baron Gelfand.

“Pardon my intrusion,” the sergeant gave a decent bow to the person in front of him. “It’s been so long, lady Des—“

“Oh, Barry! It has been a long time. Glad you’re still looking good,” said Dessia in a cheerful tone.

“Ah… yes, lady Dessia. I assumed you had talked already?” asked Baron.

“Don’t worry. We’re done talking, anyway. Thank you for allowing us to meet Baron.”

“My deepest pleasure, lady Dessia,” he paused as his gaze shifted to Khael. “You should remain here for now. And rest as much as you can,” Baron regarded as he guided Dessia on her way out of the enclosure.

Dessia took a last glance at him with a consoling expression and smiled before going out.

The metallic door closing echoed in the dark, narrow room. Khael had learned two or three things, which made things more complicated. This place, or rather this world, is too far from being just different.

The old woman seems sincere, but there’s something always hidden in one’s kindness towards others. At least, that’s what he learned from his life…

There’s no such thing as pure kindness.

After the mentally exhausting discussion with Dessia Adhilla, he felt like the recently recovered energy had drawn out of him instantly. And what was the thing she did earlier inside the room? Khael wondered, and suddenly… he could already feel his body urging him to fall asleep again.

The lingering pain in his body still bothered him most of the time. Even with his mind troubled by many things, the urge to fall asleep was stronger and brought momentary peace to him.