It was strange. I was watching my own memory like it was a stage play. I saw a wagon pull up in front of my father’s house. I watched as Tarlon dragged me out of the back of the wagon, and threw me on my knees in front of my father, who stood with his wife and daughter at the bottom of the stairs.

“You dealt with the mother?” I heard my father inquire. I didn’t need to listen to the response, I already knew what was said. This part was something I'd never forgotten. I already knew this part of the play by heart. I felt myself slowly being drawn closer to the scene, like a magnet was pulling me towards it.

“Pray tell me, Sir Tarlon, was it painful?” my stepmother asked. This time I was able to see the disgusting look on her face as she asked him. The anticipation I had heard in her voice was evident on her face. Her daughter had worn a similar look, her eyes alight with the idea that cruel deeds had been done. I wasn’t surprised, her violent nature had been exposed to me over and over again. Yet, there was a part of me that was horrified to know that two women were excited to hear of such things.

“What is your name, boy?”

Ah, I remember now. I truly believed I was refusing to give him my name, rather than being unable to speak. It was easier to believe I was just defying him. I didn’t know I was damaged goods yet. Seeing that spark of defiance in my youthful eyes made me ache when I thought of how quickly that spark went out.

I realized I’d been pulled closer than I expected. Too close. When my father backhanded my younger self, suddenly I was in his place, spitting blood. I could feel the sharp pair from the rib he'd broken with his kick. I looked up at him again, somehow feeling that old spark in me again.

“Very well,” he said, “You’ll have to learn things the hard way. From this day forward you can forget whatever name that whore called you. You are now Julien de Ramport, son of the Duke of Ramport. Your only purpose…”

I stopped listening. I knew what came next. Did I really have to live through it again? He backhanded me again and I fell to the ground. My arms were still bound behind me so I didn’t even have a way to protect myself as he began kicking and stomping me. It felt like it lasted forever, each blow causing explosions of pain, one on top of the other. I wondered how I hadn't died that night. It hurt so much. The pain, however, was nothing compared to the terror I felt as my father mercilessly beat me. All I could do was lay on the ground and wait for him to decide it was enough. But then it was over.

Distantly, I knew I wasn’t really experiencing it, I was just remembering. The pain was just phantom pain, but the horror of the experience was very real. It was hard to tell what was the past and what was happening now. I lay on the ground struggling to retain consciousness, the sharp pains of the beating giving way to a duller but overwhelming ache that I was very familiar with. As I fought the blackness that threatened to engulf me, I was no longer within my body and once again looking at the scene as an observer.

“My darling,” I heard my stepmother say, “Didn’t I tell you this would be a waste of time. You should have just killed it with its mother.”

I felt myself being pushed away. As my younger self faded into true unconsciousness, I drifted further and further away.

“If he’d taken after me in the slightest, he would’ve understood what was necessary and thanked me for bringing him home. I see now that he took after his whore mother in every way. Pathetic. We can still use him though,” my father assured her. “If seeing what happened to his precious mother wasn’t enough, he can learn personally what it means to defy me…”

They continued speaking but I couldn’t hear anymore. That must have been when I passed out from my injuries. Then, I was in the hallway again. The door I’d gone through was no longer in front of me. I stared into the grey fog that was there in its place for some time. My eyes stung for a moment, then I felt something wet begin creeping its way down my cheek.

I looked up the hallway and saw row after row of doors. I looked the other way and there was nothing but more doors. Endless doors. The tears began to flow freely as I looked helplessly and the infinite hallway.

How many times do I have to do this? It seemed an impossible task. Even if I could force myself to open the doors to that many bad memories, I couldn’t get through them all with my sanity intact. That’s why these doors are here, anyways. To protect me from what’s beyond.

The door at the end of the hallway came into my vision. It was so far away. There were so many doors to open before I could get to it… or were there? When I stared at it long enough, suddenly it was right in front of me. Up close, it looked the same as the other doors, yet different. It wasn’t something that could easily be put into words. It was a plain wooden door with a brass knob, just like the rest, but it seemed to absorb all light that came near it. Its wood was the densest of black, like the darkest corner of the deepest cave, a penetrating darkness that threatened to swallow my soul. But if I blinked it was a normal door again. The two images superimposed in my vision and I couldn’t tell which was real. I didn’t want to open it. Not now, not yet.

I fell to my knees and wept bitterly, letting all of my frustration and fear escape as I sobbed and wailed. I cried until I started struggling to catch my breath. When I tried to draw in more air, I felt like I was breathing through a tube. I felt a flash of panic when I realized I couldn’t draw a proper breath. I started desperately gasping, trying to force the air into my lungs, before realizing that exhaling was just as hard. The more I tried, the less air I could get in. I started grasping at my throat desperately as tears continued streaming down my face. I felt like I was going to die.

I awoke in Estra’s tent, gasping for air. My lungs could fill themselves now that I was awake, but the sickly sweet smoke in the air triggered a coughing fit.

“Falyn! Are you okay?” Estra asked me, rushing to my side. Ignoring his question, I pushed him aside as I choked and gasped, and scrambled out of the tent. I managed to make it a few feet away from the tent before my coughs turned into heaving and I vomited the contents of my stomach onto the ground outside.

On my hands and knees, I continued dry heaving long after my stomach was empty. At some point I felt someone's hand begin rubbing my back as I retched and gagged. Eventually my stomach calmed and I was able to start breathing deeply of the cool night air. The hand on my back slowed its movements.

When I was finally calmed, I looked up and met Andrian’s eyes. Concern was written all over his face but he didn’t didn’t speak. Instead, he just waited until my breathing was normal before holding his hand out to help me up. I accepted his hand and he led me over to the fire and passed me a waterskin. I swished the water around my mouth and spat a couple of times before drinking deeply from the skin.

“You look a little calmer now,” he observed, breaking his silence. I nodded to indicate I was indeed calmer, as Estra came to sit with us, his attention focused on my reactions.

“I know it didn’t look like it,” Estra said to Andrian, “but I can assure you that what you just saw is a good thing.” Turning to me, he continued, “You took a good first step tonight, didn’t you?”

I studied the ground and considered it. I did take the first step, but I could only open one door and broke down in the process. I hadn’t done well enough to say it was a good first step. Eventually I shrugged without raising my gaze from my feet.

“I know, you don’t feel good about it right now, do you?” Estra asked me in a knowing tone, “I’ve seen battle hardened soldiers break down and weep when they make a breakthrough for the first time. For you, sorting through whatever you partitioned in that head of yours is equivalent to a breakthrough. The reaction you had proves it. I do wish you could speak to me about what you’re feeling… but I suppose we have no choice but to do things out of order. We can talk about this someday in the future, when you've reached that point.”

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His words did make me feel a little bit better. I was still ashamed of my weakness, but I also felt like I’d reclaimed a piece of myself, no matter how small and unpleasant it was. How sad that I have to reclaim myself in such an awful way. But when I’m done, will I be anything more than the sum of my traumas? I was afraid, afraid that what I might regain would leave me even more broken than I already was. What if I have to lose who I am to regain who I was? Is my voice really worth it? It’s unnerving to know there’s so much missing from my memories, but do I really need to know? Can’t I just be happy with Andrian?

…But how can he be happy with me if we can’t even have a conversation? He’s been so lonely for so long. Can I really ask him to listen to silence for the rest of his life?

I knew in my heart that I needed to keep moving forward, even though it was hard. The next day, we’d be arriving in Rovette and I was now terrified of what that would mean. My instincts had told me that I needed to go back but now that we were almost there, I was questioning why I had felt that way. At the same time, a little voice inside me was urging me forward, so I could be the person Andrian deserved and give him a small measure of the happiness and comfort he’d given me.

“I’ll take him back to our tent,” I heard Andrian say right before I was scooped up from my position by the fire. Startled by the sudden movement, I gripped his shoulders tightly, before relaxing into his embrace and allowing myself to be carried away. I was brought to our tent and gently placed on my bedding. Andrian laid down next to me, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wish I knew what to say or do to help you,” Andrian said to me softly, “Maybe there’s nothing I can do for you at all. But I’m here for you. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m willing to do it for you.”

I squeezed his arms tightly and thought, I can’t force him to live like this. He deserves a complete partner, someone who is capable of supporting him as much as he’s been supporting me. Since I’m not willing to give him up, getting better is my only choice.

Andrian held me close without saying anything else. I was awake long after he’d fallen asleep, caught in an ongoing cycle of determination, fear, and self loathing. “Never let your fate be decided by fear.” Amelie’s first words to me echoed through my mind. Eventually, I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, we were all up before the dawn and began packing up our camp. I’d slept for three movements at most, probably less. My eyes felt dried out and sore, and my body ached from fatigue and stress. We’d be in Rovette by mid afternoon. I went to help Luxania take down the tents while the others readied the horses and prepared breakfast. After my night of tossing and turning, I must have looked a mess. Luxania looked at me with sympathy.

“You know,” she said to me as we worked, “you don’t have to force yourself. I know you’re feeling pressured to move forward with your treatment. It’s at least partially my fault you're feeling that way too. I hope you know that no one would judge you harshly if you decide its too soon for this. Last night… I don’t think I’d really considered how hard this would actually be for you. So I want to make sure you know that we don’t have to go to Rovette if you aren’t up for it. Eventually is good enough for now. The war is over anyways. Justice can wait a few years.”

I appreciated what she was saying, but her words from before weren’t what were driving me at all. I was doing this for me and for Andrian. I wanted to get better for us. I also wanted to see my father and his men pay for what they’d done. I shook my head, gestured to myself and pointed in the direction of Rovette. No, I’m going. Your words might have been what started this, but I’m continuing on for my own reasons.

“Very well, I won’t say anything else then.” Luxania left it at that and we continued taking down the tents and packing up our camp.

We finished tearing down the camp, ate a simple breakfast of boiled oats with berries from a nearby bush and dried meat strips that the beastmen said was made from the meat of a buffalo. It was salty and tasted somewhat smoky. The dried meat was more practical for travel than magically preserved meat because it was small and lightweight. In any case, the beastmen had no issues catching game animals when we wanted fresh meat, so those strips were mostly treated as an easy protein in the morning or a snack to eat while riding.

Andrian brought me over to his horse without giving me the option of riding alone. I could see Estra and Luxania talking off to the side, glancing in my direction often enough that I knew they were talking about me. After I had climbed my way atop Andrian’s horse, Estra rode over to us and said, “You’re looking a little worse for wear this morning. Are you feeling well enough to travel?”

I gave him an unhappy face. Do I look that bad? First Luxania was worrying about me, now Estra?

“Oh, don’t give me that face. I’d be amazed if you looked any other way after last night. It’s hard to sleep when there’s too much going on in your head.” Estra studied my face as he spoke. “Well, I suppose you know best what you can handle, but if at any point you decide you want to turn around, we can. If you push yourself too much, you’ll have a breakdown instead of a breakthrough.”

What he was saying made sense, but I was resolved to continue on. I’d already questioned it enough and knew this was what I needed to do. I was more afraid of the consequences if I didn’t keep going than what would happen if I did. I gave him a small shrug to say I knew he was right, but I was still going.

I guess last night made them think I’m not strong enough to do this. I guess I can’t blame them since I was almost ready to give up on this too. Still, I wish they had more confidence in me. I wondered if anyone else was going to try to convince me to change my mind. I waited for Shidah to take his turn at it.

However, all he said to me was, “Don’t listen to them kiddo. If you’re confident, then that’s enough.” I appreciated the sentiment more than he could know. Andrian climbed up behind me on the horse without a word, prompting our horse to begin moving south towards Rovette.

We rode hard, only stopping once at midday for lunch. As the afternoon progressed, I began to recognize the places we were passing and I realized we’d reached the town of Rovette. We entered through the northern end of the town and as we rode, I began seeing streets that I was certain I’d been down before. I wondered if I’d recognize any of the people, or if too much time had passed for that. I’d been given the choice of whether I wanted to pass through town or not. I’d chosen to pass through because I wanted to see it again, but I had no desire to meet with anyone I’d once known.

The center of the town looked much like I remembered it. The blank points in my childhood memories had never been related to locations, just events, and I’d recovered what I was missing from my early years regardless. As I looked around, I was filled with a sense of nostalgia, seeing the familiar sights. The town square was a wide open space with a large fountain at the center and various stalls set up for the locals to sell food, crafts and clothes. Compared to cities like Shelfort, Rovette was rather small, but it had a strong sense of community based commerce, and trades were accepted in place of coins. I was happy to see that hadn’t changed much after the war.

The bakery I used to visit with my mother on special days was still there, as well as the small but well kept inn for travelers. Down the way, I could see the old tavern and gambling house were still up and running as well. As I stared wide eyed at familiar places, I realized that the townspeople had slowly stopped what they were doing to watch the five of us who had come to a stop near the fountain. They whispered amongst themselves, but no one came close to where our horses stood. The people looked curious but wary at the unknown beastmen. Eventually a man came out from the crowd and approached us.

“Greetings,” he said a little nervously, “Welcome to Rovette. We’ve never had beastmen arrive as guests before and, uh, well, welcome. Yes, welcome.” By his manner of dress, I assumed he must be some kind of official for the town. He wore a careful smile and continued eyeing Shidah as he spoke. I’d gotten used to it, so I’d forgotten that most humans would be intimidated by his enormous size. I knew his large form was accompanied by a peaceful and kind personality, but they just saw a giant beastman. Shidah chuckled lightly as he watched the man trying to be gracious as he trembled with fear.

“Thank you for your welcome, but we don’t intend to stay as guests,” Shidah greeted him in his usual even tone, “We were just making a short stop on our way home.” Shidah’s deep and calm voice seemed to soothe the man a little.

“May I ask what you’ve stopped for? We are a small town, but we have an excellent selection of stores and stalls. Or if it’s a rest you need, I can show you the inn,” the man offered, back on track with his welcome.

“That won’t be necessary, we are really just passing through,” Andrian answered him, declining his offers. The man looked over for a moment and then did a double take as he saw me sitting in front of Andrian on his horse. He seemed surprised to see me there, but thankfully he didn’t question my presence or point out I was a human among beastmen. Word travels fast in a small town and I had no interest in accidental reunions if word got out I grew up there.