“Your friend?” Khayin asked in disbelief.

Your friend? the man asked himself, echoing Khayin. That would mean that I am – or at least I was – Halqat’s friend, for friendship is a reciprocal relationship. And Halqat had to be referring to a time before the Blitzen Berry. Indeed, he had to be referring to a time before the man got off the boat, crossed the field, and in an exogenous burst of fury, challenged the noctogorges.

He had to be referring to a time he could not remember, a time of which he knew nothing. A void in which the concept of his self disappeared and made no sense.

Khayin looked at the man, then grinned, then chuckled, then put a hand over his stomach as it heaved with laughter. The other Diggers did not laugh but continued to observe the discussion with unease.

“This sad specimen was your friend?” Khayin questioned, his outstretched arm pointing to the man. “Don’t make me laugh, Halqat. This absurd charade of yours would be more amusing if I were not now convinced there were some remnants of the Blitzen Berry still disrupting your thoughts. Do you need an elixir from Almael also? You’re clearly not well in the head.”

“I know it is him,” Halqat replied immediately, his voice steady, his body turned away from Khayin.

“Oh,” mocked Khayin. “And how would you know?”

Halqat raised his hand to explain but Khayin cleared his throat to interrupt him.

“I'm to presume you are among the psychics of Praeterius now, aren’t I, Halqat,” Khayin teased. “That’s how you ‘know.’ I suppose you have picked it up with your various dalliances among the pitiable con artists and sham fortune tellers we have run into? Maybe it was your incredible psychical insight that led us to this patch of barren ground, bordered by nothing of value, slowly being enclosed and governed by a lazy despicable spoiled prince!”

“You know we had no choice to go here!” Halqat shot back.

“We didn't?” Khayin said with sarcastic surprise. “And what do our fellow Diggers think of this?

He turned to the other Diggers who were standing, silently watching the scene.

“We have strayed for too long,” Khayin said with pomp. “It is time we finally return to our fellow Diggers in the South, and live among them. Let us slay the traveler for his intrusion and return to our traditions at last.”

Almael stamped his cane and all the Diggers. Including Halqat and Khayin, instinctively turned their heads.

“Enough of your grandstanding, Khayin!” Almael bellowed. “You are not the head of this tribe – do not forget that! Just because your mouth is the biggest doesn’t mean your vapid ramblings have any meaning at all!”

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The man’s eyes widened and he suppressed a huge smile trying to break out on his face. He was just glad Khayin appeared shocked by Almael’s outburst that he wouldn’t catch him stifling laughter at his comeuppance.

“The path of the Diggers and the role of our traditions is a discussion for another time,” Almael stated, calmly this time. “Let us listen to our fellow Digger Halqat explain his link to the captive man and then proceed. This time, based on reason, not demagoguery.” Almael shot a look at Khayin, who merely rolled his eyes at the reproach.

“Thank you, Almael,” Halqat said. “As I was saying, I know this man. Do you not remember me, traveler?"

The man bit his lip unwittingly in thought. He considered making up a memory just to get out of this situation. Some kind of mundane event of the fictitious past so that the Diggers would think he wasn’t a lake-walker, evil spirit, or spy. Some kind of mundane event that might even satisfy the man’s own need to understand how he got here, a need which was still totally unfulfilled.

But he thought the better of it. Although he wasn’t partial to the history Halqat claimed existed between them, if there really had been something that happened, it’d be wisest not to muddy the waters, especially while at least one of the Diggers still had him in his sights. And perhaps, hopefully, there might be a real clue, a real taste of the void his memory could not cross over into.

The man shook his head regretfully.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember you, Halqat,” he said. “I’m trying but nothing is coming to mind.”

“I told you,” Khayin taunted.

“Are you sure?” Halqat implored. “Maybe your memory was affected by the battle. One of noctogorges must have rattled your skull. It must be temporary.”

The man shook his head again, as if he could not apologize enough for not remembering something he wasn’t even sure happened.

“No, Halqat,” he said. “Even before the noctogorges, I couldn’t remember anything. The water, the field, the camp, and the battle. That’s all I know.”

The Diggers standing away looked at each other and murmured something.

Halqat looked at them and furrowed his brows and held his pointy chin, the fingers on either side of it only and inch apart.

“He’s lost his mind,” Khayin said. “Maybe Halqat had been concussed by one of the noctogorges.”

Almael shot a glance at Khayin and stamped his cane on the ground again, and Khayin crossed his arms in response.

Halqat paced around in frustration. The man wished he could help Halqat, as Halqat was sticking up for him, and even more, might be the only thing keeping him alive in this world. Even if his life were sparred, being thrown out of the camp to wander for himself might be just as fatal in the end. The noctogorges were enough of a fright, and that was with the power the Blitzen Berry bestowed him. Imagine if he had to fight a hoard of them alone as he escaped to try and find a more hospitable place to gather his bearings.

"Almael," Halqat asked, "is there another elixir you may have that could recover his memories?"

"Unfortunately, I have no such elixir," Almael said ruefully. "A memory recovering elixir is quite rare to come across and requires many exotic ingredients that many healers, adventurers, and traders have lost their lives trying to procure. And neither could I formulate one out of the barren land in which we have encamped."

Halqat held his forehead and clenched his other fist.

"And further, my young friend," Almael elaborated, "I am alas not a psychic, but a mere healer."

Khayin let out a single rude laugh that echoed in the mist still piling above the land.

"Let this farce come to an end," he said. "What in the entire world could this man have done -- if he is a man -- to have deserved your mercy in such a prolonged fashion?"

Halqat turned to Khayin and looked at him, and gave a dismissive sigh. With hope in his eyes, he looked at the man.

"This man," Halqat said, "saved my life."