There's actually a funny story to how I decided to write this. Last night as I was falling asleep, I had this interesting thought and decided that it would make a great page of writing for today. However, I've been trying all day to remember it and then thought, hey, why not something about memory loss? And then I realized that Gabryn, of this story, had lost her memory. It was quite a breakthrough, and suddenly writing this page didn't seem so hard.
Cindy likes to remind me to ask myself why exactly I write -- is it because I have stories that I have to write down, or because I want to be good at something, or because I really admire my writer friends? I was worried about this earlier this evening. Then I realized that I suddenly wanted to work more on this story, because it was my story, one that only I could tell, and one I could write because I wanted to write it, to come to love the characters and find out how it ends.
I love when that happens.
Gabryn closed her eyes tightly and put a hand to her head. “Ohh…”
“Don’t try to move,” Bastien touched the damp cloth to her forehead. “You’ve had quite the experience; it’s best if you just lay still.”
Gabryn opened one eye. “Where am I? Who are you?”
“Oh – I suppose we haven’t formally met, have we? My name is Bastien Jorn Nicolai Augustine – but please, just keep it at Bastien. And you, of course, are Gabryn Kelly.”
“I am?” Bastien started at that, and abashedly watched alarm wash over Gabryn’s face. “Oh…Why don’t I know who I am? What happened?”
“Calm down, just calm down, Gabryn. What is the last thing you remember?”
“I remember…a dark room…I was annoyed…and there was a blue mist…and a man.” She glared at him broodingly. “That was you, wasn’t it?”
“Er, yes, it was. Now, tell me what you remember before that?”
Gabryn wore a mask of concentration for a long minute. “It’s all a blur,” she answered finally. “Why don’t I remember anything?”
“The spell must have gone awry when the button didn’t take us where it was supposed to. It’s not an exact art, you know.”
“What isn’t an exact art?” Bastien stared at her, thinking very quickly.
“Magic, of course,” he answered casually.
“Magic?”
“Yes, of course, magic. Your memory must really have suffered if you don’t even know what that is.”
“I know what it is…I just didn’t---” She gave him a questioning look. “Do I know magic?”
Bastien sighed. “Not any more, I guess. But believe me, if I know anything at all about you, Gabryn, you’ll get all of it back in no time.”
Gabryn settled back into her pillow. “How did you know my name?”
“I was – ah – sent to retrieve you, and, er, make sure you got here safely.”
“Like a bodyguard?”
“Yes, like a bodyguard.”
“Well, Bastien,” she closed her eyes again, “you failed miserably.”
Bastien had to laugh at that. “Well, no worries, I’m sure your memory will come back soon, and in the meantime you can do what you came here to do to begin with.”
Gabryn’s expression darkened. “You’re awfully nonchalant about this. Don’t you realize that I don’t know who I am, or anything about myself? Shouldn’t that be my top priority?”
Bastien studied his folded hands for a moment. “Honestly? No, it shouldn’t be. Gabryn, I know you don’t have your memory, and I can only imagine how frightening that is. But I only wish I could make you understand how crucial you are to us. You are the one who is going to tip the balance in our favor. You’re going to help us win.”
“Win what?”
“…the War.”
“The War? The Great War? That’s already won, everyone knows that. That’s part of the reason I’ll be out of a job soon—” She stopped short. “How do I remember that?”
Bastien smiled. “See? I told you it would come. In time, you’ll have all of your memory back. But Gabryn, understand something: we don’t have time. Your fellow magicians need you now, and we need you in top enchanting form, amnesia or no. This is a different kind of war we’re fighting.” He sighed, “I understand that it is my fault that you can’t remember anything, and I swear to you, with my life’s blood, that I will do everything in my power to help you get it back. But it is in your power – your significant power, might I add – to help us. That is the reason we brought you here, and the reason we still need you. Will you help us? Will you fulfill your call?”
Gabryn looked into his eyes; he saw her mouth move nervously. At last she looked away, and exhaled slowly. In a small voice she answered, “I’ll do what I can.”
Bastien took her hand and squeezed it. “That’s all we ask.”
“Is there something I can ask, though?”
“Like what?”
She hesitated. “Well…I’m kind of starving.”
Bastien laughed, “Do you think you can sit up, if I help you? I’m famished too. How do eggs sound?”
“Mostly silent, but I’d love some anyway.” Bastien blinked. “Oh, nevermind. Eggs would be wonderful – with catsup, do you think?”
“Eggs and catsup it is. Now here, let's get you upright; put your arm around my shoulders..."
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