Chapter Text
Vylad didn’t know what he was expecting.
Nobody in that damn province was normal, and Hyria was the worst of said province-dwellers. She was horribly nice, of course, letting him stay and drink her best tea with homemade cake when he needed a taste of something kind, but he’d never admit that, especially now.
Regardless, he was here now, running through the woods as fast as he could because that staff Hyria gave him turned into a lady who had locked eyes with him and he needed to get out now. She seemed confused more than anything, opening her mouth to speak, but Vylad wasn’t exactly the most charismatic guy, and didn’t want to risk anything by staying around too long. So, he ran until his breathing grew harsh enough to feel painful, ending up in the middle of the woods.
“Put this where Irene’s blessing is needed most,” she had said. It made sense, he supposed, but he still didn’t expect it.
There was a village nearby, and a broken one at that. It wouldn’t hurt to stick around a while and watch and see how she fared, right? As long as she found her way to town, she’d be fine.
Hopefully.
---
“Keep this safe for me,” she had said. Something cold and long in her hands, the image of it obstructed from her memory. A woman was there, taking the thing with a reserved reverence.
“Anything for you.” The other woman paused. “..Will I ever see you again?”
She smiled, but the pain behind it all was almost overwhelming. “I can’t promise how she’ll act.”
“She?”
“You’ll see.” She placed a gentle hand on the other woman’s cheek, looking up to meet her eyes, but her features were blurred beyond recognition. “One day.”
Silence fell upon the room.
“I’ll miss you,” she finally murmured. “But, we’ll meet again soon, Hyria.”
With that, her eyes opened.
The dream was already quickly fading from her memory, confusion and the vision of a panicked man in front of her taking its place. The man looked… surprised. Worried. Half of his face was covered with a scarf, and he looked about three seconds from bolting.
“...Hello?” She asked, voice shaky and weak from lack of use. How long have I been asleep? Where am I, anyway?
The man considered for a brief moment, but before she could say anything else, he had started running.
Scrambling to her feet, she called after him, and the chase began. She was disoriented to say the least, and the fact that she didn’t know where she was--or who she was, for that matter--didn’t help, but this was the only person she had seen, and the fact that he was running away was extremely incriminating.
It didn’t take long for her to lose him. He was agile and blended in with the surrounding foliage, his palette of greens and greys disappearing in the trees. She came to a skidding halt, gasping for breath against a tree.
No use in trying now, she supposed. The forest was already making itself known to be long and confusing, and she didn’t want to get more lost than she already was. She wouldn’t forget, though. She’d find him eventually.
She slid down to a sitting position, knees pressed to her chest as she surveyed her surroundings. It was morning, and by all means, the forest was beautiful, but she still felt sour and disgruntled.
I need to get home, her first thought was, but that raised a question she wasn’t prepared to answer: where the hell is home?
She should know. Logically, she should know who she was and where she was and how to get back but when she tried to poke at any memories it left an ache behind her eyes and more questions left unanswered. Logical answer: amnesia. That man had hit her over the head, or found her like that and happened to be jumpy, and when she woke up it startled him into leaving.
The only problem was it didn’t seem right. Amnesia doesn’t take away all of your memories, only recent ones, or a specific chunk of time. She should remember something, anything at least. She could always be wrong, though. Maybe her basic knowledge left along with everything else.
First order of business: find home. Whatever that means. That seemed easy enough. Chances are, she lived nearby. Simple deduction. Damn, she was good at this.
Slowly, shakily, she got back to her feet and started walking in the direction she had been running previously, a newfound pep in her step as she let her goal fuel her actions. This is good. I’m doing good.
It became increasingly apparent that she was, in fact, doing an amazing job because around half an hour later she found herself bumping into another person.
He was short, a beanpole of a guard with a helmet a size too big for his head and a half-broken sword he carried like it was the strongest weapon in the world. He yelped when they hit each other, neither one of them quite paying any attention to where they were going, and raised his sword with the widest eyes she had ever seen.
“Who are you?!” He yelled, trying very hard and failing even harder to sound the slightest bit intimidating. He still had something sharp, though, so she backed up with raised, placating palms.
“Who are you? ” She asked right back, raising an accusatory brow. She couldn’t let this man (boy?) know she didn’t even remember her own name.
“Ze-” he stopped himself short, “I don’t have to tell you anything! What business do you have in these woods?!”
“Last I checked, it wasn’t illegal to take a walk.” Is it illegal to go on a walk now? Shit.
The man narrowed his eyes, a tense silence between them before he finally lowered his sword. “...Okay, fair. You’re not from Phoenix Drop, though. I know I haven’t seen you around. Where are you from?”
“There’s a town nearby?” Phoenix Drop. She had never heard of that place before. Where the hell am I?
He nodded, an air of confidence in his eyes. “The best town in the province!” He didn’t seem to believe it. “Well, that’s what Lord Malik says, at least. Are you lost or something?”
“...Yeah. Can you take me back to this Phoenix Drop? I think I made a wrong turn.”
He nodded again, beckoning for her to follow him. Quickly, it became apparent that he was very, very chatty. She had learned more about this town than she had ever hoped to learn in the span of a few minutes as he led her back to the so-called ‘best town in the province’.
Phoenix Drop did not live up to the expectations. This was to be expected, but she was still a little disappointed at the dead crops and broken fences. A man sat in the farmland (if you could even call it that) trying desperately to fix a broken hoe. He waved at the guard, interest piqued by their arrival.
The guard took off his helmet, sighing. He had messy, reddish-brown hair that fell around his eyes he didn’t care to push away. “‘Morning, Brendan.”
“Hi Zenix!” The farmer, now known as Brendan, responded, walking over. “You’re back earlier than usual. Did Dale actually do his job for once?” He chuckled. Brendan was tall. He looked almost nervous to be around Zenix, even though he could clearly take him in a fight. Zenix seemed displeased by his happy air.
“No, that would take a miracle. But, I had to come back early because I found this woman wandering in the forest!” He stepped aside, gesturing towards her.
“Hello there!” Brendan outstretched his hand, and she hesitated for a moment before finally taking it. His grip was firm and calloused. “I’m Brendan, pleasure to make your acquaintance! What’s your name?”
She faltered for a brief moment, letting go oh the handshake to fidget with the fabric of her skirt. She didn’t even remember where she got said skirt.
“...I’m a very private person, you see,” she began, “I don’t like to share my name with strangers.” Nice.
“Ah. That’s okay!” Brendan said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I understand.” Then, to Zenix, “She and Garroth would get along great, huh?”
Zenix, surprisingly, nodded in agreement. “I guess so. Speaking of, I should probably go tell him about… this.” He gestured vaguely to her.
“Should I come with you?” She asked. This Garroth character seemed… interesting. Zenix had stood a bit straighter when he was mentioned.
Zenix shook his head. “No, but he’ll probably come back with me. Stay here for a bit, I’ll come back soon.” He gave her a confident smile. “Brendan! Watch over this maiden until I return! Maybe she knows how to farm and we can actually grow something for once.”
“Yes sir!” Brendan responded rigidly. As Zenix left, he slowly deflated, letting his posture fall with a tired sigh. “Sorry about him. He’s still an apprentice, but thinks he owns the place. You get used to it.”
She nodded slowly, scanning the surrounding village as Brendan began to talk about the crops.
People were out, chatting with each other as they went about their daily tasks. Despite the state of their village, they seemed happy. She turned her attention back to Brendan. He, similar to the others, was surrounded by ruin. Rotten crops and horrible soil were everywhere he stepped, but he still talked about it fondly, a gentle smile on his face as he reminisced when the wheat would grow better.
She smiled, a sense of pride bubbling up in her chest. I knew I did the right thing.
Right thing? What did I do?
“-but, uh, anyways, I’ve been rambling. Where are you from?”
“I don’t remember,” she responded without thinking. She felt dazed, almost, as the confusion bubbled back to the center of her thoughts. Right thing. Right thing. This is a start, what did I do that was right?
“...What?”
She paused, staring wide-eyed back at Brendan. “Oh, uh, I’m joking,” she said quickly. “I live pretty far away in a really small town, so I don’t really expect anyone to know about it. Sorry.”
“Oh!” Good. He believes me. “That makes sense, ha! What’re you doing this far out, then? Especially in a little town like ours.”
“Well…” she scanned the area for any options of what to say, when she met eyes with Zenix. He waved, gesturing towards a person in full armor behind him.
The person was tall, intimidating even without a face. Zenix had since then taken off his chest plate in exchange for casual clothes, a white button up and dark brown pants, but the other person looked just about ready for an invasion. As if anyone would want to invade this place, anyway.
Brendon grinned. “Hi, Garroth!” He called, waving. “That’s Garroth. He’s the head guard around here. Not the biggest fan of showing his face.”
“I see.” She studied him carefully, watching how he held himself as they walked over. His presence seemingly caused everyone else in the area to stand up a bit straighter, looking forward with a regal air despite the lack of any discernible features. Everyone seemed to know him. He looked hard to forget.
Something peaceful settled in her chest as he got closer. His very presence was protective, calming. Familiar. Despite the confusion of her situation, she suddenly felt safe.
“Hello,” he said. She wasn’t sure how, but he sounded overwhelmingly like a guard.
“Do I know you?” She asked all of a sudden. She already knew the answer--all signs pointed to yes. If only she could put a face to the feeling.
This question, somehow, caught him entirely off guard, along with both Zenix and Brendan. Zenix stared at her, shocked, eyes darting between her and Garroth.
“...Does she?” He asked in a loud whisper, looking back at her with a new, cautious admiration.
“To my knowledge,” Garroth began, quickly composing himself, “No. I would recognize your face.”
Wrong. That’s wrong. That has to be wrong.
She hummed noncommittally, letting her eyes fall to the ground. Familiarity was quickly seeming to be more annoying than being left in the dark. “Must be a coincidence, then.”
“Well, anyway, Zenix tells me he found you walking in the woods,” Garroth continued. “Where are you from, and is there anything we can do for you?”
“Yes, actually.” She stared straight into the black pit of where his eyes would be. “Is there any way I could start living here? The details of my situation are unimportant, but I’m looking to move.”
Garroth nodded slowly, considering. “That seems reasonable, yes. Zenix?”
“Yes sir?”
“Go and ask Donna if she knows of anywhere she could stay.”
“Yes sir!” Zenix marched off into town.
Garroth turned his attention to Brendan, but their voices were blurring together. She couldn’t place it, the way he sounded so… familiar. Who was he to her? Was it really all a coincidence?
“-Hello? M’lady?”
She blinked rapidly, coming back to the present, where Garroth was waving an iron-clad hand in front of her face. “Huh?”
“I was asking your name,” Garroth said. Brendan wasn’t there anymore.
“S-” Seraphaura.
She stopped before she could finish, eyes widening. Seraphaura. Seraphaura. Was that her name? Seraphaura, the woman with no memory?
“Yes?” He prompted gently. “I understand if you don’t wish to tell me, Brendan said-”
“Seraphaura,” she interrupted. Then, more confidently, “My name is Seraphaura.”
“Great! Nice to meet you, Seraphaura.” He held out a hand. Seraphaura shook it, and for a moment could suppress the twinge of familiarity in the cold metal against her hand. A name. That was one step closer to finding out who she used to be.
Zenix came back shortly after with a woman next to him--Donna, she supposed. She was all dry remarks and surprisingly gentle smiles, a sugar-sweet woman that made Seraphaura chuckle under her breath with every snide comment shot Zenix’s way. She was kind, comfortable. It had been five minutes since Seraphaura had met her, but she was already calling her ‘Sera’ (a welcome, warm change, surprisingly) and slinging arms over her shoulders.
Donna led her back to what she had dubbed the Atrium, one of the oldest, biggest houses in Phoenix Drop. The inside was warm, the smell of fresh baked bread wafting through the air. It was gorgeous in a strange way, the homey feel more overwhelming than the general mess.
One of the steps leading up to the rooms was broken, but those going up and down seemed to ignore it like it wasn’t there in the first place. A fireplace crackled quietly, blending nicely with the quiet conversation between two women in front of it, sitting between mutual knitting materials. The kitchen was no different--messy, but smelling overwhelmingly of a home Seraphaura didn’t know. The window was open, a loaf of bread cooling on the sill. A woman Donna called Molly greeted them easily, unperturbed by the guest.
Donna led her up the stairs and through a door to a surprisingly clean room. Bookshelves lined the walls, along with a bed in the very corner, crisply made with a vase of yellow carnations on the bedside table. A woman sat at a table, thumbing through a large, complicated looking book, underlining and annotating where necessary.
“Emmalyn!” Donna called from the doorway, causing the woman to jump, ink slashing across the page.
She groaned in frustration. “You have to stop doing that, Donna! All my books are going to be ruined if you keep scaring me!” She paused for a moment, staring at Seraphaura and Donna with narrowed eyes. “...Who’s this?”
“Sera.” Donna placed a hand on her shoulder with a grin. “She’s new here in Phoenix Drop. How d’ya feel about a temporary roommate?”
“Oh, absolutely not,” Emmalyn responded, shutting her book and returning it to the shelf. They seemed to be coded by author. She seemed to have memorized where each one went. Sera wasn’t exactly sure she was too excited about this either.
“Relax, darlin’, I said temporary. Plus, Sera won’t give you any trouble, right?” She patted Sera on the shoulder.
Sera nodded gravely. She had only known Donna for around an hour, but would rather die than make her mad. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Donna snorted, giving her one final, playful punch in the shoulder. “Told ya. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other, alright? I need to go get you a mattress, anyway. See you soon!” She waved goodbye, shutting the door behind her.
Sera and Emmalyn were left in silence, staring awkwardly at each other. Emmalyn looked frazzled, blonde hair tied into a loose, messy ponytail and glasses slipped half down her nose. Her hands were covered in ink, leaving a smudge on her cheek as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“...So. You’re Sera.”
“Seraphaura, actually. Donna just… calls me that.”
Emmalyn nodded in understanding. “She called me Emma for the first week I was here, but I asked her to stop enough that it became annoying, so she stopped. I’m sure she’ll do the same if you ask.”
“That’s okay.” Sera liked it, anyway. A new name made newer.
Silence again. Emmalyn moved to the bookshelf, pulling out a new book. “Make yourself at home, I guess,” she muttered, focused almost entirely on the new pages in front of her. She dipped her pen in the ink again. “Just don’t touch my books.”
Sera nodded slowly, moving quietly around the room. There wasn’t much that had any distinct emotion; the only decoration was the flowers, but even those seemed to blend into the book-clad walls. It was comfortable enough, though. That’s what mattered, at the core of it.
“Do you have any paper?” Sera finally asked, wincing at Emmalyn’s icy glare as she handed over an extra pen and a scrap of paper. “...Thanks.”
Sera moved to the farthest corner of the room, placing the paper on the floor and writing in bold letters at the top “ THINGS I REMEMBER. ”
“NAME - Seraphaura
Woman from dream - can’t remember her name.
G̶a̶r̶r̶o̶t̶h̶?̶”
Nothing else came to mind. She turned the paper over, writing at the top “THINGS TO LOOK INTO.”
“Man from the woods
Garroth
Lady from dream
Where I am
Home”
She stared at home for longer than intended, pen still pressed against the tail of the ‘e’ and now making a pool of ink bleeding straight through the paper and onto the floor. Emmalyn seemed unaware anything was amiss, so Sera snuck out quickly to grab a rag.
Home. I’ll find it. Soon.