Johnna

I am terrified of criticism, but I wish to get over this fear. Who wants to help me? If anyone does, critique this piece. Harshly. I'm afraid the "memory loss" thing is too cliched... But it's just the beginning of a story, so, no worries if I have to scrap it. Anyway, thoughts, critiques, anything, are more than welcome. (It's entered in two posts.)

A blue sky. That's all he could think of. He tried and tried, but he couldn't imagine clouds or birds or anything else in that sky. Just... a blank stretch of bright blue, pure and clear.

Something tapped him on the arm and he opened his eyes, blinking at his surroundings. Trees. Pine trees? He had never seen a pine tree before—or had he? He couldn't remember.

Another tap on his bicep. He turned his head to find a child. Her head was cocked at him and her eyes were wide.

"What're you doing?" she asked with a whimper. "I'm scared. Take me home!"

He opened his mouth and tried to find the right words to use. After a moment, he managed, "Who're you?"

The little girl stared at him blankly for a moment before saying, "It's me. Rev." At his silence she added, "Your sister?"

"Oh," he said. He looked down at himself. He was an adult; she was a child. "Then... I must be responsible for you."

"I guess," she agreed. "Can we go home now?"

"Where exactly is... home?" He pushed himself to his feet and looked around. Nothing but trees and the forest floor, covered in dead leaves and twigs.

"I don't know!" Rev wailed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "I was half-asleep when you carried me out of the house!"

"Right," he said. "Um... Little girl. Rev. Who, um, am I?"

She glared at him and stamped her foot. "This isn't fun anymore!"

"Tell me my name," he ordered. The hardness of his voice shocked him. Did he always speak so to a child?

Rev quailed under his glare. "Xavie," she whispered.

"Za-fee-ey?" he repeated slowly. "How odd." He looked around again. There, through the thick underbrush. A glint of light. "C'mon, Rev." He held out a hand; it seemed the proper thing to do.

Indeed, Rev gave a small relieved sigh and slid her tiny hand into his large one. He led her slowly through the forest, examining her. She truly was tiny; the top of her head barely cleared his waist. Her brown hair was cropped close to her head, and she was dressed in a blue gown that reached her calves. Her eyes were red-orange and her feet were bare.

When he realized that, he said, "Hey, wait." She halted and craned her neck to look up at him.

"Huh?"

He reached down and lifted her by her underarms. Examining the soles of her feet, he saw that they had tiny dots of blood from the twigs and rocks that littered the forest floor.

He cradled her in one arm, surprised that her weight was nothing to him. Even a small girl like her should have registered a little. Apparently he was a well-built man.

He glanced around to get his bearings and started walking again. Rev clung to him silently, and he reflected that she had to be a strong little girl if she refused to complain about pain.

After a few minutes of walking, they reached a river. Sunlight glinted off of it, making Rev squint.

Xavie sat her down in the soft grass that grew by the river. "Dip your feet in," he told her. She obeyed.

"When can we go home?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

He turned around. "Why don't you tell me everything you remember?"

"Well, I was asleep," she told him. "And then you woke me up. And picked me up out of bed. We went outside and the Frajas' house was on fire! And people were shooting at us. And then we went into the woods and you dropped me... And I hit my head and when I woke up you were sitting there and now you are acting funny and mean and I want to go home!" Xavie turned around and looked at her. She was crying now, but not sobbing; tears dripped down her cheeks to land on her arms and the front of her gown.

He knelt beside her and awkwardly patted her head. "Don't do that," he said lamely. "Don't cry. Listen..." He lowered his voice. "I don't remember anything."

"Huh?" she said, wiping her eyes with her wrists.

"I can't remember anything. Not who I am or where I come from, or you or our parents..." Xavie grimaced as fresh tears fell from her eyes.

"You don't remember me?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, no," he said. "But you seem like such a brave, strong little girl that I need you to help me, alright?" She nodded. "We need to find some people. Where would people be?"

"The village," she said promptly.

"Considering the village just got attacked, it's probably not a good idea to return there," Xavie said gently.

"Oh, ok," Rev said. "How about Eltya?"

"What's that?"

"The capital city," she replied. "I know we're close to it because Daddy always goes there, one time a month. He brings us presents. Look, see?" She reached under her gown and pulled out a carved ivory pendant that hung around her neck. Xavie nodded.

"Beautiful. Was our father home when the village was attacked?"

"No, he's gone to visit Gram in Drajan. He said he'll be back after midsummer." Rev carefully tucked her charm under her gown.

"Right. Well, we need to figure out how to get to Eltya and... You need shoes."

Rev glanced down at her feet, still submerged in the water. "No, I'm ok. See?" She lifted her foot up; the sole was an angry red and scratches covered it. She placed a hand over it. Xavie raised his brows as white light flickered around her foot and then vanished. When she removed her hand, the scratches were gone.

"How in the rutting world did you manage to do that?" Xavie asked incredulously.

"Magic," she said slowly, as if talking to an idiot. "You can do it too."

"Oh," he said. "We are strange people." She nodded and healed her other foot.

When she finished, he lifted her up onto his shoulders and walked east along the river. The sun had reached its peak and was beginning to descend. The shadows of the trees grew longer and longer as Xavie walked.

They had been on the move for a couple of hours when Rev tapped him on the head and said she needed to relieve herself. He lifted her down and she scampered behind a bush.

There was a pool of still water here, and Xavie knelt to drink. However, he halted before his hand made contact with the water; he could see his reflection.

His hair was the same shade as his sister's and slightly longer than hers. He had yellow-orange eyes, and his face was covered in soot. He had baby fat on his cheeks, but he didn't look too very young. He guessed that he was around twenty years old. It was odd, seeing himself and not making any connection with the image.

Rev returned and dunked her hands in the pool to clean them, making his reflection disappear in the ripples.

"Rev?" he said. "How old am I?"

"You're nameday's in a week or so. You'll be twenty two years old," she informed him.

"Oh. And... How old are you?"

"Eight and three quarter years old."

"Alright then." Rev turned her head to hide a yawn. "Why don't we rest here for a while," Xavie suggested.

"I'm not tired," Rev said stubbornly.

"You may not be, but I am," he told her, faking a huge yawn.

"Well..."

"C'mon. I just want a little nap," he urged.

"Well, alright," she said. "One hour." She nodded decisively and leaned back with a small sigh. She was asleep in moments.

Xavie took the opportunity to wash his hands and face. That done, he pulled everything out of his pockets and belt pouch: some silver coins, a small leather bag that contained a little food, a gold ring that would fit a woman's finger, and a tiny harmonica. There were also twin daggers tied to his belt. They looked well-worn but cared for.

He replaced all the items in his pockets except the harmonica. Doffing his boots and dipping his feet in the pool, he blew an experimental note. To his surprise, playing the instrument came easily to him. He played a soft tune for company as the sun set, disappearing behind the trees.

Darkness settled over the forest like a quilt. Xavie stopped playing and listened to the chirps of crickets and the rustling of burrowing animals, content. He thought it odd that he would be so calm when he remembered nothing of his life and he was stranded with an eight year old girl for a guide.

Rev woke up with a start about an hour after sunset. She sat up and glanced around before crawling over to Xavie, whimpering. She nudged her head under his arm and crawled into his lap, hiding her face in his tunic.

"What is it?" he asked. His voice broke into the natural sounds of the forest, making animals freeze and be silent.

"It's dark," she whispered. "Where's my candle?"

"I don't have one, I'm sorry," he told her.

"Well make a fire with your magic," she muttered thickly.

"Um, right," he said. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried his best to remember how to do magic.

It was useless. He couldn't remember a thing. It wasn't like playing the harmonica.

"Rev?" he said softly. "I'm afraid I don't remember how."

__________________

Johnna

(continued)

Rev sighed and said, "Do your breathing. Deep breaths and then reach into your mind for your magic. Even I can do that."

Xavie scowled, but did as she said. He closed his eyes and breathed and cleared his mind and tried to feel something...

After a few moments, he gave it up as useless. Then he opened his eyes to see flames flickering from his nose and mouth.

"Damnit!" he said loudly. "What the—What was that?!"

"That was good," Rev said interestedly. She was kneeling in front of him now. "Now go find some firewood and do it again. I'll wait here."

"Don't order me around," Xavie snarled, so suddenly he startled himself. "You're a child. Get your own firewood and don't think you can order me about." He shoved himself to his feet and stomped away down the river.

He came to a halt as he rounded a curve. His hands were shaking. What had come over him? Had he gone mad? Was he always like this?

"Gods," he muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "That little girl is depending on me. I'm a stark raving asylum-worthy lunatic."

Turning around, he returned to the pool slowly, snapping off twigs and gathering up fallen branches. He had an armful of firewood by the time he got there, but Rev was gone.

"Son of a rutting harlot," he growled. He dropped his burden and looked around. "Rev!"

There was no answer, but he spotted something in the underbrush. Walking over, he found Rev's necklace, the cord broken, dangling from a low-hanging branch.

"Damn, damn, damn," he growled. "Rev, come back!" Of course there was no answer.

Xavie took a deep breath and closed his eyes, straining his ears. There—a rustle and the cracking of a twig—to the left.

Turning, he took another breath, focused his mind, and blew. Guttering flames spurted out and by their light he saw Rev climbing an enormous tree. He walked over and stood under it, marveling at the speed with which she pulled herself from branch to branch.

"Rev, honey, come down, please," he called.

"No!" she yelled. "You're not my brother! You're mean!"

"I know, I know," he said. "I'm sorry! I brought you firewood, and I've got your necklace! Come on down."

For an answer, Rev dropped a pinecone on his head.

"Ouch!" he said loudly, putting a hand up to shield against any further attacks. "Alright, alright! Sleep in the tree. I'll be down here... eating."

He returned to the pool and collected his firewood before going back to the tree. He cleared a patch of ground and started a fire, being very careful; they didn't need a forest fire on top of everything else.

"I'll be down here with my nice, bright fire and my nice, uhm... meat." He sniffed the questionable meat from the bag he had discovered earlier and took a tentative bite. It was old, but still edible.

Rev didn't reply, but she didn't drop anything on him, either. He settled his back against the tree. His last waking thought was that at least Rev would be safer in the tree than she would be on the ground.

Thanks for reading.

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worldboy90

I liked it. The only thing I found wrong was how'd he know the village got attacked . I thought the dialogue was realistic and the story was easy and interesting to follow. Overall, it was good =). Oh and when you say, "it was his last waking though", did he die after that? Or just before he went to sleep? If you kill him off that quickly, it seems like a waste of having him re learn magic and other character attributes. And.. How does fire come out of your mouth and nose? That part confused me =). Can't wait to see chapter 2.

Johnna

He figured it out when Rev was telling him what she remembered. He assumed when she said "the village" that she was talking about where they had come from, and she had described it being attacked.

No, he just fell asleep. Killing him then wouldn't be a very good ending, heh.

He's a fire mage. When he concentrates and breathes deeply, he breathes fire. (It's elementary magic, basically the first thing any fire mage learns to do.)

Thanks for reading! I'll go back and clear up the stuff you mentioned and get to work on chapter two.

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DavidGil

Moving onto the second post.

DavidGil

Alright all done, hope it helped.

My thoughts?

I like the short sentences by and large. Following on from that, there really wasn't much nitpicking I could do with comma use etc.

Regarding the story though I can judge off your posts on here, you know what you're doing when it comes to fantasy: I can find no faults with it but with the main character being a mage, I'd watch his power level later in the story.

I always like the characters that are vulnerable and can die.

blodren

overall, i like it. I just have one problem with your fire mage. His mood seems to change so easily. Reminds me of a teenager. You mentioned that he's 21, so i'm assuming that their years are similar to ours, putting him out of the range where he'd be a "teenager" as we call them. His mood changes like one, but maybe that's how time works in your world. Either way, i mentioned it.

Also, i like the way he seems strategic. He's suffered from amnesia yet he still has a "battle knowledge". When talking to Rev, he got the info he needed to get where he needed and do what he needed to do while keeping both of them out of danger. Hope he stays that way personally. Also, like mentioned before, watch his power level (and that of Rev's too) later in the novel. Not many people like an all powerful hero.
Blodren

Johnna

David: Thanks a lot. I'll definitely revise to include your corrections.

Blodren: Xavie's moods are supposed to be chaotic; it's a result of the same thing that made him lose his memory. It'll be cleared up later.

As for him being all-powerful... he most certainly isn't. They're both actually really weak mages. They can do just enough to keep themselves up (i.e., she can heal minor scratches and he can start small fires), but they can't fight with magic and they won't be getting any stronger. I was tired of using really powerful mages; that's one of the reason I wrote this story, to experiment with weak magic users. They'll have to rely on their wits and other skills.

I'll be working on this some more and posting another chapter in the next day or two.

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Skoosh

I know your looking for critisism but i liked it, alot and would love to read more. however it kinda dragged on a bit...

There, constructive critiscim, sorta...

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"Congrats Kids, we rank as a Nuclear Threat"

blodren

experiment with weak mages, interesting. i'd like to read more of this then

Blodren

Johnna

Thanks to everyone who read and commented. Here's chapter two. Harsh critiques, please. This is unedited, so excuse a typo here or there.

Chapter Two

The sound of footsteps and shouts woke Xavie. It was still dark, but false dawn turned the sky a deep bluish-grey. A tremor of fear wracked through him. Whoever was shouting for whatever reason, he had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The fire had long since gone out. Xavie hurried kicked dried leaves over the ashes and gathered up his meager belongings. Glancing around once more, he took hold of a low branch of the tree that had been his shelter and pulled himself up.

He climbed until he came upon Rev, asleep in a cradle of branches. Placing a hand over her mouth, he shook her gently. When her eyes flew open, he put a finger to his lips.

Bringing his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, "There are people down there and I don't think they're friendly." She nodded; he removed his hand.

Xavie winced as Rev moved to perch precariously further out on a bare branch. She turned her gaze to the ground and Xavie saw her grip tighten on the branch as two men came into view below them.

The men were dressed in dirty red and white livery, and they were armed with swords and light crossbows. One of them bent close to the ground and said something softly to his companion. The other man nodded. Xavie held his breath. If they looked up, Rev was in plain view.

The men looked around, bending to look under bushes and glancing behind trees. They gave up the search when shouts sounded in the distance, and Xavie let out a sigh of relief as they walked away.

Rev inched her way back to him and looked at him with wide eyes. "I'm scared, brother," she whispered. "Those were the men from the village. I remember their clothes. All matching."

Xavie put a hand on her shoulder. "Then we'd best stay clear of them. We'll wait here until dawn and then move on. Go back to sleep." Rev nodded and climbed back into her little nest; she fell into a fitful sleep quickly. Xavie wondered at how she could sleep in a tree. He didn't dare close his eyes for fear of falling out.

He watched the sky. It was slowly turning brighter, the bluish-grey turning to pale grey to light blue. In the west, the sun rose, painting the heavens a lovely pinkish-orange. Birds began to chirp and nocturnal animals settled down.

By the time the sun crested the trees, Xavie felt secure enough to move on. He woke Rev and they climbed down from the tree. Xavie lifted the girl to his shoulders. He made his way back to the river and began walking along it once more.

"I'm hungry," Rev complained.

"Maybe we'll find some people to buy food from today," Xavie said.

"Why don't you just hunt?" she grumbled. "My stomach hurts."

"I don't know how to hunt," Xavie informed her. She made an indignant noise.

"How can you have forgotten everything? It's just not... not right," she said. "You were the best hunter in the village! Why do you think you carry hunting daggers?"

"We'll walk until noon. Can you hold out until then?" Xavie didn't want to take the time to stop and try to remember how to hunt. They had lost enough time the night before.

"I guess," she told him with a sigh.

Taking heart in her steadfastness, he picked up the pace.

The river curved a little as they walked; soon they were heading north rather than east. The sun climbed higher and higher, heating the air and making Xavie sweat. He didn't stop, though. Walking helped him think, and he tried to puzzle out what exactly was going on.

If Rev's word could be trusted—and he had to trust her, for he had no one else—then the men in livery had been tracking them since they had fled the village. What was so special about him—or Rev—to warrant such a chase? Maybe they were mage-hunters. Did such a thing exist? Perhaps they had something that belonged to the soldiers' employer. What did they have? A harmonica, some silver, a necklace. Nothing special. The only way he would find out, he concluded, would be to inquire more of Rev.

However, before he had a chance to do so, they came upon a bridge. It was built of sturdy logs and arced high above the river, which had been growing steadily wider.

"What d'you think?" Xavie said. "Across?"

"Maybe there's people on the other side," Rev told him. "Can I walk now?" He lifted her down and she turned to look up at him. "Will you hunt yet?"

"Not quite," Xavie said. "I'm sorry, but we need to find people." Rev sighed but didn't argue. Xavie took her hand and they walked across the bridge.

On the other side, a cobblestone path led away fro the bridge. Xavie vaguely wondered why there was a path on one side of the bridge but not the other, but pushed the thought from his head. At least Rev's feet weren't in danger from the smooth stones.

After only a quarter mile, they finally came upon a farm. Fields stretched for miles into the distance, and Xavie was a little shocked at the abrupt transition from forest to farmland. The sun seemed to shine brighter and the sky seemed bluer.

"Come on, Xavie," Rev urged, tugging his hand. Realizing he had stopped dead in the middle of the road, Xavie allowed her to pull him along to the farmhouse that was the center of the cleared land.

The house didn't have much area, but it was at least three stories high, not including an attic. Xavie looked up at it, impressed. He had never seen anything like it. Or maybe he had. He couldn't remember.

The ground floor was surrounded by a porch. As Xavie and Rev stepped onto it, heading for the front door, a man walked around the corner to their right and started at the sight of them. They both turned, to look at him.

Xavie was silent for a moment as he took in the farmer's odd appearance. The man wore calf length pants and a long vest that was left open to display his grey-haired chest. His head was bald, but he sported thick grey mustaches. His eyes were brownish-yellow, and they glowed slightly. In one hand he carried a bloody axe; in the other he held the dripping head of a pig. Blood coated his hands to the wrists.

"Uhm, hello there," Xavie said, taken aback. "I—That is, we—"

"Well this ain't a sight for innocent eyes," the farmer muttered. He walked back around the corner, and when he returned, the pig's head and axe were gone and his hands were clean. "You gave me a fright, you did. Where're you from? How'd you get here?"

"Harym?" A shrill voice permeated the air from inside the house. "Harym, who you talking to?"

"Not rightly sure," the farmer—Harym—replied. "I'm Harym Marilka. Right nice to meet folks traveling, Master..."

"Xaviema Kavoir," Rev said. She pulled her hand free of Xavie's and walked closer to Harym, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head back to look at him. Xavie noticed that she kept her lashes lowered, as if she were shy, which completely contradicted her bold stance. "And I'm Revya Kavoir. He's my brother. Do you have anything to eat?"

"Direct little thing, ain't you?" Harym said, smoothing his mustaches to cover a smile. "For a pretty little thing like you, I sure do have something. You get on right in the house and talk to the lady in there. Tell her you're hungry." Rev nodded briskly at him and obeyed.

Once the door closed behind her, Harym looked at Xavie. "Listen, Master Kavoir," he said, his voice serious. "My family's right lawful folk. Sweet little girl like that don’t need to be in the middle of no kind of trouble man such as you might get into, and we don't need no soldiers at our door."

Xavie looked away, his face set grimly. "I can't give you any reassurances that you won't find soldiers at your door," he said slowly. "But so long as she gets fed, we won't be here to be found come sundown."

Harym looked him over from head to toe before smiling and saying, "Well, sir, I daresay she won’t be the only one fed. I don’t know what kind of trouble you're in, and I don't rightly care to know, but I was a wild young man myself and I know how it is to be on the wrong side of the law and hungry to boot. Get on in there and sit yourself down."

"Thank you, Master Marilka." Xavie nodded to him and went through the door behind him.

The inside of the house was tidy and clean. It was also the kind of place one might find comfort. Xavie, however, found no comfort. He only felt nervous at being so confined, with no escape route.

"Well," said that same high pitched voice that had shouted earlier. "You must be Xavie."

The speaker was a woman standing in the doorway of an adjoining room. She was tall, with long, straight dirty blonde hair and dull green eyes. Her toothy smile was anything but dull, and she beckoned to him before disappearing into the other room.

__________________

Johnna

(continued)

Xavie followed. The room was a kitchen, full of heat and steam and good smells. Rev sat at the table happily munching bread and tiny carrots with one hand and sipping from a mug with the other. He sat down across from her, awkwardly perched on the edge of his seat.

"How d'you like your coffee?" the woman asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Uhm... Black?" Xavie ventured.

"No!" Rev said. "With milk. He always takes it with milk, Byli."

"With milk, then," Xavie conceded. Byli looked at him strangely.

"What, you can't remember what you like?" she said, only half-joking, as she handed him a cup.

"No, he—" Rev began, but Xavie cut her off.

"Of course I can," he said. "Rev likes her little game." He gave Rev a meaningful look and thanked Byli. Sipping, he grimaced at the taste. He liked this stuff?

Harym came in just then, and Byli grinned at him before kissing his cheek. "You tribute that pig head?" she asked. Xavie wondered what she meant by that. Harym obviously knew, because he answered, "Of course, proper and nice, like you taught." Byli nodded firmly at him before shooing him to the table.

"So after you have lunch, you gonna stay a while?" he asked Xavie.

"No, I don't think so," he answered. "I was wondering, though, if you might have any kind of shoes that might fit Rev? She's been barefoot for a while now, and—"

"I have just the thing," Byli interrupted. "Rym, go upstairs and bring down Kam's old shoes... And her black dress. Go, man, go, don't just sit there!" Harym sighed but stood with a groan and left.

In his absence, Byli put plates loaded with meat, potatoes, bread, and various vegetables in front of Rev and Xavie. Xavie was halfway done by the time Harym returned.

"These?" he asked Byli, holding up the requested items.

"Yes, good man. Now sit and eat." She served him as well and took the dress and shoes from him. "This won't do. It's all torn up. I can fix it in a moment, though. Revya, when you're done, come on up to the second floor, sweetling." Rev nodded, eyes intent on her plate, and Byli left.

Xavie concentrated on his food, trying not to make eye contact with Harym. The man was kind enough, but Xavie was suspicious of him. Why had he given them food so quickly? Why was he being so kind? He gained nothing from helping them. What if he was working for the soldiers? What if they had charged him with killing Xavie and Rev?

At that thought, Xavie stood so abruptly his chair fell over, banging loudly on the floor.

"Xavie?" Rev said in alarm.

"Stop eating," Xavie told her. "C'mon, we're leaving."

"What? I'm hungry!" she whined. "Lemme finish!"

"It's not good food, Rev," he said firmly. "It's time to go!"

"Now wait just a moment," Harym said, standing up and holding his hands peaceably out towards Xavie. "What's wrong with the food? Did Byli cook it wrong?"

"You can drop the act, man," Xavie said, striding around the table and wrenching Rev out of her chair by the arm. She cried out in pain, and Harym stopped being peaceful. He took a step forward, reared back, and punched Xavie in the face.

Xavie went down, causing Rev to fall. She cried out again, and Harym picked her up.

"I don't know what's a matter with you, but I ain't gonna stand by and let you hurt this girl! Nuh-uh." Harym set Rev down and said, "Go on upstairs, baby. Byli'll get you all dressed." Rev scampered from the room, sniffling, and Harym turned back to Xavie.

Xavie had pushed himself to his feet and was staring wide-eyed at the farmer, blood pouring freely from his nose. "R-Rev? Oh, gods, what've I done?" he muttered. "Harym, you'd best take me to a madhouse, 'cause I've gone crazy."

"I can see that," Harym said calmly. "Now why don't you just sit yourself down and I'll call a healer."

"Yes. Yes, that would be fine," Xavie said dazedly. He collapsed into a chair, running his fingers through his hair and sighing heavily. Harym walked over to the window over the stove and Xavie was startled to see a tinge of yellow color the air around his hands. He muttered something, made an odd gesture with his fingers, and returned to the table.

Xavie stared at him in confusion as he unconcernedly returned to eating. Wasn't he going to call a healer?

Then Xavie remembered about magic. Was everyone in this crazy place a mage?

Harym took his time about eating, and just as he finished, a knock sounded at the front door.

"Ah, there he is," he said, standing up. He walked into the front room. Xavie heard low voices for a moment before Harym returned, leading another man.

The first thing Xavie noticed was that the man was tiny; his head didn't top Harym's shoulder, and Xavie doubted he was chest-high on Xavie himself. Other than that, he had lank black hair and dull orange eyes. He dressed in brown tunic and trousers. Xavie was glad not everyone dressed so oddly as Harym.

Harym and the other man sat down across the table from Xavie. "This is Keph," he told Xavie. "Keph, Xaviema."

"Just Xavie," Xavie corrected. "Can—can you help me?" He didn't like sounding so vulnerable, but there was nothing he could do about it when he was so scared of himself that his hands were shaking.

"Hopefully," Keph said in a baritone voice that was surprising coming from someone his size. "Tell me your symptoms."

Xavie glanced at Harym, still slightly nervous about revealing that he had no memory. He decided, however, that he had no choice. With a sigh, he began to tell them everything.


Thanks for reading.