I had to throw myself to the side to properly dodge the knee that was speeding towards my stomach - and only received a punch to my left shoulder in return. I grit my teeth at the pain, and swiped the wooden training dagger in my right hand at the man responsible - Rybrus. He swiftly retreated and returned to his posture. At least now I knew why the bastard didn't carry a weapon - he was a martial artist. "Come on Malin', it's not that hard! You have the reach advantage because of your sword!"

I knew his words were meant as an encouragement, but after being battered by him for the better part of an hour, I was thoroughly exhausted. "First, use my full name!" The words came out as more of a threat than the cheery complaint they usually were. "Second, screw you! You're too damn fast! And you're cheating anyway, you have my memories!" I raised my weapons -- and the wooden sword came crashing down to the ground as I winced due to the sudden spike of pain.

I saw his expression shift rapidly, from the confident grin he was wearing to confusion and finally settling on concern. Now that I've been around him for a few days, I've often managed to notice that it took him a few moments to figure out things that he wasn't expecting.

"Let's stop for today." He said with a finality and walked over to his wagon which was parked nearby. It was actually my idea for him to help me with combat practice, since I found myself missing Thomas's routine - I just didn't expect him to beat me blue every single time. 'And this guy is not even a good fighter? What the hell are other hunters like then?'

My feet carried me to the campfire where I sat down, muttering curses and complaints the entire way. Not even a moment later Rybrus was there was a bowl of warm water and what could generously be considered towel, but in reality was more like a rough piece of a rug. I merely gave him a nod and started to get rid of the built up sweat.

"I don't understand." I complained, being extra careful with the sore spots on my arms and back. "You mentioned you're a scribe, so why are you so good at fighting?" Out of the corner of my eye I saw his expression darken, though unlike usual he was taking a while to respond. A few seconds passed, only filled by the crackling of fire between us.

"I wasn't always a remembrancer." Finally came his reply. His tone was subdued, and quiet - very unusual for him.

"And? What were you?" I prodded, still feeling a bit foul after the latest ordeal.

"Doesn't matter." He waved his hand in the air dismissively, before switching the topic. "Reason you're losing is because you fight like a human."

I paused my movements, blinked a few times as I considered his words, and then turned at him with what must have been an expression of utter confusion. "How else am I supposed to fight? I have two arms, two legs, one body and head. I'm a human, am I not?"

"Are you?" His voice was firm - and the question serious. I frowned and considered the implications of what he was saying.

If I am a human, then mom was a human. Just like Dave, and Stein and Thomas and everyone else I've met with. Simple as.

If I'm not a human, then mom wasn't one, unlike Dave, Stein and Thomas. It would mean I'm fundamentally different from them. The people in the separate category are... hunters... who are recruited exclusively from Torments that managed to regain their sanity.

But mom said we're all just People, and that the differences don't matter. Ah, I hate this conundrum.

"I don't know." I finally decide on an answer, feeling significantly less angry. I focus my eyes into the flames dancing in the fire pit in front of me. "What does it matter anyway?" I don't know why he asked me this, but it's an annoying question, so instead I opt to continue getting rid of the built up sweat.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

"It's something you will have to answer for yourself." He retorts instantly, clearly expecting my non-answer. "Ultimately, there's no correct choice to that question, but one thing I can tell you for sure is that you're at your limit when it comes to fighting like a human. You're short, scrawny and frankly malnourished, you don't have the physical profile necessary to beat foes who are stronger than you in most categories."

I roll my eyes as he lists my flaws, but let him continue. "So just... don't. Don't play by rules of the game. You're good at things others might be bad at because of your build, but you fight as if you had the strength and poise of someone much larger and stronger than you." Memory of David's mug flashes to my mind as my mind follows Rybrus's words. 'He was a good head taller than I was I suppose... hm. Maybe there is something to this. '

"Plus, your... visitor's words don't exactly make you sound like the type that fights with poise and grace." I stiffen as the creature's fractured face turns my way in my mind. It knows we're talking about it, and it is interested. "Lots of references to being a light in the darkness, hope and hatred. Seems to me like you should listen to your emotions more. Plus, it basically called you the High Priestess of Memories."

I heard it laugh somewhere in the distant corner of my mind and soon its warped image disappeared from my imagination - and allowed me to let out the breath I didn't even realize I was holding. "Shouldn't you already have all the answers?" I respond with an edge to my tone that wasn't there before the thing's attention landed on me again.

"Nope. I get to know the events, know what happened. I don't know what was going through your head." He replies with a shrug. "So?" His eyes were expectant, as if I had some amazing answer that could solve everything. I didn't, and I hated that he put the spotlight on me like that.

"As far as I can tell, my power has something to do with a large room that's somewhere in my mind. Certain people are there as statues, and the one time it activated, one of the statues - the one of Morana - has activated somehow and moved." I answered before giving him a nod when he passed me a sandwich for dinner.

He seemed thoughtful for a while, and then asked me several questions about what all I have tried. The discussion went on for good fifteen minutes with no real success, though the sandwich was nice. He even came up with a few new ideas - like suddenly putting a knife to my neck and threatening to kill me. That one terrified me, and even though he claimed it was to find it if maybe the activation condition was my fear of losing my life, I couldn't help but feel disturbed that he went from jovial to lethally threatening my life in the span of few moments - and then right back as if nothing major just happened.

"Have you considered praying to those statues? Your-" I once again saw him pause when he remembered that I had an aversion towards the echoed way the visitor spoke. "-visitor's words did call you a high priestess of memory."

"No, that's just weird. I know or knew all of the people in the statue room!" I categorically refused his suggestion and he gave up on it with a shrug and a muttered 'if you say so'.

A while later, the sun set and we both retired to our respective sleeping bags - and I couldn't help but remember those words that ended our chat. 'Memory's Hierarch.' My mind echoed the words, and I again felt reality strain as the thing's attention was drawn my way.

I allowed my mind to wander into that large room, and noted the presence of a new statue. Of Thomas, holding an apple and staring at it curiously. I shook my head and let my attention by drawn by mom's statue. It almost felt as if it's eyes were turning to watch me as my mind drifted around the room, but statues can't move so it clearly didn't.

'There's no way, right?' I thought as I eventually stopped in front of her. A moment later, I let out sigh, and figured I've got nothing to lose if Rybrus's wrong. My mouth moved, speaking words both inside and outside of my mind.

"Mom, can you help me please? I'm lost and scared." The words were more than just a plea - even though Rybrus was with me, he was quite the mystery, and the thing he pulled with the knife earlier today didn't sit right with me. Deep down, I was both of those things.

The statue's eyes snapped open, swallowing the statue-room in unlight. My own eyes mirrored the statue's - and dutifully let me know that the world has been suffocated in darkness, yet I was able to see the reality beneath it all with colorless clarity.