No one remembers their birth, and there is a reason in that. So much floods over and through you, to process, to understand...or simply to experience. This abomination, life, unfolds in tangents of space and light and time before you. It is being blind, and in pain, with every new-found nerve crying out until your flesh is an orchestra. Muscles and tendons clench and twist from shock and fear. Adrenaline spills through your innards, riding a wave of blood pumped mad by a furious heart, until it threatens to tear itself apart chamber by chamber.
No one should remember such a thing. Those of us who do, envy those who do not.
* * *
There was a time... A tremble ran through my hand, and as I gazed in wonder at this long, informative digit, who more often than not guided strangers or gestured for emphasis, I wondered what it was trying to tell me. Time? What time was it? I lifted my orbs upwards, yet the sky had nothing to reveal. Clouds swam within each other overhead, blocking any stars, though their undersides were stained with a blueberry shade. In the farthest part over the flatland, a ribbon of red and pink hues rode the edge where the pillars of the earth supported the sky. The sun was a blazing, flickering sliver that could not be viewed directly.
No time, then. Forget the when and ask where. A second series of glances was no more informative than the first. There was a sky above, ground below; grass climbed up to my knees, pressing stains into my white attire. No sign of travelers, birds or beast; no seas to see or seize. There was myself, whom I'd known as long as I could remember; and Nature, who was likely around even longer than that.
"Out of time, and out of place, with unformed thoughts and newborn face..." A cough barked itself from my throat, a raw stillbirth that caused me to choke before continuing. "With a voice that is patchworn and lacking in grace, here I am... where I am... which is... hey!"
The last part was entirely unintended, yet unavoidable, as I dropped to the ground, startled. Arrows aimed at one's head can cause a bit of nervousness, you know. Yet despite the craning of my neck and straining of my eyes no arrow was to be seen, nor was the source of any such missile. Well. At least when I fell stupidly to smite the ground with my face in hopes of avoiding nonexistent projectiles, no one was there to see me wipe the mud from my face. Tugging at one long white sleeve and pressing it to my face, wiping sideways, I removed the last of the mud and -
"Lumus!" That word was familiar. What did it mean... Why was I in a small room lit with foul-scented candles..
Hands grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Lumus!!"
Oh, right. Lumus was my name. Answering was out of the question until the shaking stopped, since my teeth were rattling in my head. Or was there any answer to offer, since there wasn't any question forthcoming...
The shaking stopped as abruptly as it started. When my eyes stopped admiring each other and the tops of my teeth only throbbed slightly from their rattlement, I focused long enough to see before me a young woman with flowing red curls framing her face. There was no time to admire her beauty; she frowned, and all beauty ran into the furrow of her brow, hiding there.
I hesitated, then tested my mouth to see if it worked: "Have you, by any chance, seen any invisible arrows fly by...?"
The frown deepened, crushing the beauty she had shown for the briefest moment until it turned into ugly. Then the ugly seeped out and found her tongue.
"Lumus," and here, her voice was clearly exasperated as she emphasized every syllable, "no one can see invisible arrows. In fact, you can't see invisible anything. That would be the point of invisibility."
"Oh," I murmured. "Good point."
Gods above and below, but the ugly spread quickly! She hissed, "Assuming you're actually lucid for now, maybe you can tell me how you expect us to get out of this place."
"Certainly!" I struggled to sit up, and my awkward antics almost chased the ugly away. Almost. "That is... I don't suppose you can tell me how we...got...here...?"
Beyond ugly! Her face twisted into the clearest caricature of a dragon (and her breath was twice as bad!) as she gripped my ears and pulled my face right into hers before she growled, "YOU...PUT...US...HERE."
It occurred to me to tell her I couldn't remember that part, but then I've always been attached to my ears, and she seemed ready to change that. Then a flood of things I didn't know came into my head, things that surely weren't there before; long strings that felt like memory tendriled from the grey matter of my brain to the tip.
Saisha. That was the woman gripping my ears.
The Wailing Chamber. That's where we were. It was named for the sound made by the creature who haunted the misty lengths of the castle we were in...
Creature? Yes. The locals only knew it as 'The Sorrow'; it was a dead spirit trapped, bound to the soil because of the traumatic ending of its life, forever hateful of living things. Its sorrowful song was known to drive those who heard it to their deaths from fear or despondency. We were here to find a missing child, a young girl whose father was... No, her mother, yes, her mother was Saisha's sister. She sought me out for my magical skills...
Magical skills? I'm a wizard?! That's good to know! Better still, if I could remember any spells -
A low, mournful sound began to rumble through the ground, and Saisha's face turned white. Yes, spells would be good to remember now. The sound grew louder. Yes, very good to remember...! Think!
As the sound rose higher still in pitch, a small light seemed to flicker in my mind. Magic! Yes! How to excite the air until it shone like a candle...no, that's useless. How to make an animal or plant grow tall and strong...not exactly useful, at least not now! Think! Think!
The sound gained volume, reaching the crescendo of a death cry, when words, strange and fluid, spilled from my lips. My fingers danced and twitched like drunken lovers, and the shriek became a sound of pain rather than sorrow. It dwindled nearly to nothing, and my fingers and lips grew still. They felt cold, empty, as though I had been filled with a thing I knew and cherished, only to spend it foolishly like a child at market with a shine of copper. Hands gently lowered me to the ground, laying me back, and as I slipped into unconsciousness I heard Saisha's blurring voice: "...gone...thank...rest..."
Rest? But I do not rest. I cannot rest. Gods only know that I dream of -
The wind was warm, and it blew bits of sand across my face. I was somewhere new. A woman - there was a woman...she was gone, though. She was from another place and I...well, I was...
Where was I? I knew not. Who was I? Hadn't someone called my name? I saw the colour red; it meant something, but it was gone, gossamer trailings. The sound of water washing over land caught my attention, and with an old, weighted sigh I sat up to see where I was now.
