I get up from the table and approach the barman. The dragonfly takes the cue and flies up onto my shoulder. Confident is one thing I’m not at the moment. But I have to stand my ground at some point. Even if the ground ain’t solid. I just feel like everything’s pushing me around.

“Hey, this guy Legrange. Know where I can find him?”

He tells me to visit the post office on the way out of town. He points to the door and then to the left. I thank him and tell him I’ll be back for those sausages. He nods with disinterest. Well maybe I won’t then. Asshole. It’s still spitting outside as I step out with all my belongings and the road is slippery mud. I spot the place off in the direction of the bridge. The horses haven’t budged. I glance at the dragonfly

“Oh hey... think you can keep your eyes peeled? You know, let me know if you see anything suspicious, or dangerous, or of interest.”

“Yes, friend.”

“Cool. Hey, I gave you a name. What do you want to call me?”

“Blue.”

“No, that’s what I call you.”

“Clue.”

“Friend’s good for now.”

The post office is a small single room cabin. Probably doesn’t see much traffic. It has a sign that reads Post Master and Sheriff. I step in and notice a small cell built through the back wall. Mostly empty cubby holes line the wall to my right. Legrange is sat behind a desk to my left.

“Hey. I’ve come to see about that job.”

He smiles with satisfaction and leans forward on his elbows.

“Ah. That’s good.”

He proceeds to give me the details. Cave outside town. Maybe five bandits. Turn left at the crossroads past the Buggrup farmstead. Five gold per bounty. I’ll need to bring one of each of their ears as proof. Wanted dead apparently. Or deaf. He says I have my choice of horse and I again tell him I don’t know how to ride. He tells me the hideout’s a few hours out on foot and that I wouldn’t make it back before nightfall. He tries to reassure me how easy it is while failing to contain a certain disbelief at someone my age not knowing how to ride. I’m older I’m sure. I can feel the accumulation of years in my bones and joints. But he says he’ll give me some pointers.

We head outside and he looks over the horses. He assigns me the black one with the white stripe up the nose. He hands me the reins and helps me mount. Big animal. I try to act like I’m not nervous. I don’t think the horse is fooled. He says he’ll accompany me half way to test his horse and we’ll take it easy. My horse follows his and I practice his pointers. Once we’ve got them out of town and at a decent jog he pulls back along side me and tells me not to push any faster than this. We pass a farm and the trail leads over low hills and winds here and there. As we come to another farm he slows and turns and tells me I should be fine. Just don’t fall. It could kill me. And tie the horse a ways off because they spook easy. I watch him ride back until he’s out of sight down a slope. I tap my heels and my horse takes up his jog again.

I take this opportunity to start preparing for what awaits. I ask the dragonfly about the other fire spells it knows and together we work out possible scenarios. There’s a flaming blade which requires my knife and an ignition spell which makes a source of flame expand. I’m assuming I can accidentally kill myself if I’m not careful. I have the black hole in case of emergency but I’d need to get their ears off first.

My mind wanders and I wonder what I would do if I knew who I was. Would I be riding blindly into what I imagine will be a life or death situation? I’m still somebody. Obviously. I have a way of thinking. I have predispositions and aptitudes. I have a personality. I have fears and anxieties and I don’t question why. I just accept them. And not even consciously. Everything I feel feels normal despite not knowing where it all came from. I’m not even curious as to why it feels normal. I glance at the dragonfly on my shoulder.

“Hey. You’re something. You’re a memory of mine that I can’t even remember... and you don’t know anything about that memory. But you know you’re something.”

“Accurate.”

“I feel the same about myself. Even though I can’t remember who I was or where I came from... I know who I am. I think.”

“Okay.”

I pause in thought.

“Do you think if I could suddenly remember who I was, it would change who I feel I am? Like...”

“If you were a murderer, would you suddenly want to start murdering again?”

“Yeah...”

“I don’t know.”

The sky is already darker but not from thicker clouds. Evening is approaching. As I pass what I assume is the Buggrup farm an older woman is on the edge of the property watching the road. Maybe she spotted me coming. She’s leaning against a crooked wooden railing staring at me. I nod as I pass. Her face is sour with creases that must have set in from a lifetime of sour expression.

Overall the road is quiet. These are hills and plains dotted here and there with a lone tree. Mostly yellows stretching as far as the next rise. There’s an occasional bird or cow or flock of sheep. And eventually ahead I see the crossroad. There’s a post marking it with a sign pointing back along the way I came which reads Panner’s End 32. I’ve maybe been riding for two hours. No way to tell. No sun and lots of daydreaming. A sign pointing in the direction I’m facing reads Haven 197. The road crossing this one leads to Morningstar in one direction. Gibbering lies in the other direction at 97. That’s the direction I need to go.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

“Hello again.”

I start at the sound of the voice. It’s the old man who I somehow missed leaning against the post. He’s removed his wide hat and I can see his long dark hair and pale face. Maybe he’s not that old. He just carries himself like he is.

“Oh... good afternoon. Evening. Malvolio, right?”

I get his attention. But it fades quick.

"Yes. You must have questions."

"A bunch."

I shrug as though all I can do is go along with everything while trying to stop my horse just results in it turning in slow circles.He approaches and takes the reins to steady the horse. I slide off and he hands them to me. My lower half is like rubber and I feel suddenly bow-legged.

“Thanks."

He nods with the similar disinterest I saw in the barman. As though they’ve been through all this and none of it makes a difference to them.

“I don't have answers. Not to what you really want to know."

His clothes are ragged and dull like layers of worn cloth. He’s missing a few yellow teeth. Besides a couple of pouches hanging from a cord belt he seems to travel very light. No horse either as far as I can see.

“You were there waiting for me. In the woods.”

“I was.”

“You knew I would be there?”

“I did.”

“You have something to do with me being there and the state I was in. Am in."

“No."

"Then I don't even know what questions to ask. Throw me a bone here."

I glance up at the sky and feel pressed for time. Stand my ground. Push.

“This book’s a mess.”

I pull the book he gave me out of my pack and he gives me a polite smile.

“I did not write it, I’m afraid.”

“The people who wrote it... it’s all over the place. No...”

“System?”

“Ya. I suppose.”

“Magic is not neat and orderly. It does not like to stay in its place. But knowing something is still better than knowing nothing at all.”

“It must obey some kinda rules, no?”

“It does.”

Push.

“You just don’t know them all...”

"I told you I didn't write it. It's a field of magic. And not my field. But you can see it's a mess, and that's a good sign. So here…"

He dips ihis hand into a large pocket and produces another book.

“The Book of Mol. It contains much, but not all.”

He extends it to me and I take it. It’s brown and leather-bound and must be about two inches thick. I open the cover and the first page reads the title he’s just mentioned. I flip through lightly and it’s definitely not a survival guide.

“Mol?”

He nods as though to tell me I heard it right.

“If you can understand it, it may help you sort things out."

“I think I can figure things out pretty good.”

“Then figure out the dangers, sooner rather than later.”

“Like what? Killing myself?”

He smiles mildly.

“Well, that would be an unfortunate result. And it effectively brings figuring anything out to an end.”

I put it in the saddle bag.

“Thanks. I’ll give it a look. Hey, I gotta kill some people. Any help would be appreciated.”

He stares at me as if considering options.

“It's important you find yiur own way.”

“Why’s that important?”

“Because no other way is meant for you.”

I don’t think I like this guy. He’s got some plan or motive. Maybe he’s just trying to seem mysterious. No. He’s gatekeeping information but I don’t think it’s for my benefit. I think that’s it. Maybe not telling me everything keeps me needing him. Maybe it makes me more likely to follow a path. Maybe he just doesn't give a fuck.

“Right, well... wish me luck.”

I mount up clumsily and am made immediately aware of my ass bones feeling like someone’s taken a running swing at them with a big stick. I raise myself from the saddle and lean forward. I feel my legs shaking as I look back to the junction. The old man’s no where to be seen.

I continue on until I can see smoke rising up ahead. The wind has died down and it makes a pillar of blue grey. I dismount and lead the horse off the road towards a tree at the bottom of a small hill. I tie the reins to the trunk and make my way up the hill to get a better view of the source of the smoke. Everything has faded in the evening light to greys and dull greens. As I cross the top of the hill I can hear faint voices. There’s no cover hear beside the tall grass. I crouch and advance until I can see the glow of a campfire down the slope. I can make out two people sat opposite each other with the flames flickering between them. I can smell the smoke. I know that smell.

Beyond them is the cave entrance and to their right are horses. There are five of them tethered to a wooden railing. The cave looks like a natural formation. It could go in fifty feet. Or it could be a network of warrens. I have no idea what to expect inside. I can really only assume these are the guys I’m supposed to kill. I look at Blue and whisper.

“Alright, let’s get this started. We got our fire right there, so we’ll start with the ignition spell. I can fall back on the hole if I need to. And... the flaming blade. That might have a wow factor. Oh shit... that binding spell with the chain. Shoulda tried that on the rope earlier, eh?”

“I can remind you of things, if you like.”

I smile.

“Yeah, okay. Next time. Alright, the ignition spell.”

They’re sitting and that’s good. If this doesn’t work right I’ll need as much time to make an escape as I can get.

“Extend your arm palm up and make a tight fist.”

Back over the hill and down the slope. Untie the horse. Mount and try to make it go where I want at the speed I want.

“Hold the book against your chest, feet and knees together.”

High speed chase ensues. I ride hard all the way back to Panner’s End. At some point they catch up to me and I’m fucked and there’s no where to hide and no one to help.

“Look at the source of fire and speak the words Pyr Ex as you open your fist.”

Yeah. There ain’t no easy way out. Unforgiving world. I get my rope out of my pack and lie it in the grass. I stand upright as Blue instructed with the book against my chest and my right fist clenched in front of me. Their conversation continues as I fix on their fire and open my hand.

“Pyr Ex.”

There’s a bright flare which makes me squint followed by a deafening crack which makes me drop to the ground. My heart feels like it’s been punched and is now racing. I wait a moment but I hear nothing else besides a constant ringing in my ears. It suddenly seems darker than before. I feel my eyes wide and teeth clenched as I stare at the tall grass I’m lying in.

“Fuck...”