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“Please,” he continued gently, “do not cry. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
Her tail thrashed in agitation. “I miss him, Exarch. He’s faded in my memory… I don’t remember his face or his voice very well… He was my friend…”
Moonflower lay awake that night, her conversation with the Exarch still on her mind. Ardbert had appeared earlier, distracting her from the freshly reopened wound, but not even a ghost commiserating over what Nagamasa had called “fetch quests” would keep her from replaying that emotional shock from hours ago.
G’raha Tia had been a fun, interesting person. She had glimpsed into a sensitive past, but she hadn’t known him long enough to fully coax his story out of him. He was full of fascinating facts that he could spout off upon the slightest provocation, and his voice . He sang like an angel. Moonflower had spent hours listening to him play, and sometimes she thought she heard it in her sleep, too.
Nagamasa had liked him. They got along well, she remembered. Her husband, then her fiancé, loved history about as well as G’raha had, although he preferred his own country’s over Allag’s. She knew they had spent about as many hours together as she had with their friend, discussing the past. Sometimes she was blessed with the opportunity to listen to these discussions, and the awe she felt, listening to them! Masa was amazing, of course, but G’raha’s memory was impressive as well, and she enjoyed learning new things.
But G’raha couldn’t stay.
Moonflower brought her cover over her nose, her eyes prickling again. She didn’t hate or begrudge him for making that decision; he hadn’t truly wanted to go. He looked at her and said, “Go on many more adventures, for me.” He seemed resigned, yet hopeful for a bright future, but she could see it in his eyes. G’raha Tia wanted to stay with them and go on adventures with them. Yet he had still chosen to do what he thought was right for the future, and she knew if she were in his shoes, she would have done the same.
The result of that decision, however, was that she couldn’t remember him very well anymore. Moonflower remembered how his green eye became a matching red to his other one. She remembered that his voice was angelic. She remembered that way he’d grin when he got excited. But she couldn’t remember how his voice sounded. What did he like to wear? She couldn’t remember. How tall was he? She could only remember that he was noticeably shorter than she was, but how much?
And then the Crystal Exarch had ripped open a scar she thought had healed. It hurt and she wanted to cry again. It was bad enough that she was still getting through her grief over Nagamasa. To add her old friend on top was too much. “Why did he do that?” she whispered into the downy comforter. “Why did he say that?” He couldn’t possibly know… could he?
Was it possible the mirror had shown him that conversation? Or what if the Crystal Tower itself had remembered and shown him? He said he didn’t know what era he pulled it from, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t pulled it away after G’raha Tia had woken up. Maybe that was why he didn’t know her friend, because he had already woken up and left the tower when the Exarch summoned it to Norvrandt.
If she could just remember his voice, though! She could remember the words he said, and the look in his eye, but not his voice. This is normal, she reminded herself. To forget is normal. I’ve already forgotten what Masa sounds like.
Moonflower slammed a mental door as soon as the thought crossed her mind. She was not, not going to cry. She was not going to lose her composure and fall apart, not now.
It’s normal to forget, she started again. It’s normal to be sad about forgetting. But that doesn’t make the memories and experiences less real. It’s not the Exarch’s fault that he said something that made me think of G’raha, either.
She paused. It is his fault he asked me if G’raha was my husband, though. What possessed him to ask such a thing? I know I never told him Nagamasa’s name, but… still. I can’t figure him out. The mysterious man puzzled her quite a lot, but she felt drawn to him too.
Part of her wondered if the draw was the mystery, or if it was because she was floundering without Nagamasa there to guide her. She had always been satisfied with following her husband’s lead; she felt she was better as a support figure rather than a leader. Perhaps… perhaps it is time I stepped forward on my own. Perhaps it is time I let someone be my support.
Perhaps it is time to let the past fade.