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“Waah! Thanks! I thought I was really done for!”
The man carefully extends his hand toward the teenage girl who’s still dealing with some injuries in her body. Slowly, he comes to realize where the screaming once buried in his mind came from. “Can you stand up, miss?”
“Yup.” The girl sighs, getting up on her feet to the best of her abilities. “You know, I’m not usually this helpless. I’m just not feeling well today.” Frowning in slight annoyance she adjusts her glasses and dusts off her skirt, looking around at the mess that is the area they were both in- a temple she’s never seen before. “On top of that, I lost my staff earlier. Can you believe it? And of course, THAT’s when the monsters started showing up!”
(He has a weapon! It’s him! He’s the reason Yuria is…!)
He gulps down heavily and tries to push that memory back again, now fully knowing that he could’ve stopped that from happening.
“Oh, did I introduce myself? My name is Yuria! I didn’t think I’d meet anyone else here, what a coincidence!” Smiling as if nothing happened just moments ago, being surrounded by monsters and merely seconds away from possibly dying. He smiles back appreciating her seemingly endless optimism. “What’s your name?” she asks.
Suddenly his smile drops, in the same way it appeared.
It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s the first time it makes him so anxious. Then again, around a seemingly abandoned temple, someone who doesn’t know their own name is short from suspicious but undoubtedly kind of pathetic, at least when the person in question is an adult who seems drowsy at all times, who should by all means be able to fend for himself.
“Uhh…sir?” Yuria looks about as confused as he does. “Are you alright…? You look…oh boy, you can get paler.” Absurd, even. There wasn’t even any reliable excuse that he could have to avoid the question and was left with just being honest. “I…don’t really remember my name.”
The magician looks confused and understandably so. Even then she still decides it’s better to not probe further, hoping that her very convenient savior would remember eventually. “Nice to meet you still, then! Here I thought today couldn’t get worse. I guess I should call myself lucky that I met you!” Without warning, Yuria began a flurry of questions.
“Did you come from inside the temple? What were you doing there? Are you here to investigate the site as well? Are you from around here?”
‘Yes, I don’t remember, I don’t know if there’s anything to investigate, no I’m not’
With all these answers, Yuria begins to figure out better that perhaps, this man not only doesn’t remember his name, but appears to be missing a good chunk of memory. Had it been a case of his memories being sealed away with magic perhaps she could have helped him by undoing the spell…but there was absolutely nothing there blocking anything that she can sense. She was at loss, but decided against saying anything and in her optimism continued to believe he would remember without help.
With this she also decided to discard an entire other set of questions that were ready to be thrown and as bad as it may sound, she doesn’t think the guy has enough memory to even know how being a treasure hunter works, therefore discarding it as a possibility.
As her curiosity and excitement slowly dies down, Yuria finally catches a glimpse of a familiar glimmer. “Wait, that thing you have…is that…?” She points to the man’s left hand, who then look over and extends it to her. “Is this your staff? I… found it lying around here.” The girls’ eyes light up as she carefully takes it, shortly sighing in relief and beaming with happiness. “This is my staff alright! Thank you thankyouthankyouu! ”
There is something in the way that the girl dances in glee that gives him a weird, nostalgic feeling that’s somewhat painful. Something, in the back of his mind scratches an invisible wall trying to come out, a memory that wants to come back.
“If it weren’t for you, I would have involved everyone at the camp to search for it!” Yuria mentions casually, failing to explain the fact that she’s not alone.
“Camp?” The albino inquires tilting his head a little, as another memory from a story that no longer exists rises back up. (So that’s what those people were…)
“Yup! We travel across Elrios to investigate ruins. Sometimes we collect or retrieve relics…” Yuria then points to the sickle he is holding in his right hand. “Ancient relics are often cursed or have forbidden magic these days. The one in your hands could be one, so I normally would confiscate it, but I’ll let it slide this time.”
He doesn’t know if that’s comforting or threatening to hear, but considering that his memory –or actually, lack of- had been present from even before picking the weapon up for the first time, a safe assumption would be that it’s harmless…probably. “No one really uses weapons like these anymore…right?”
“Oh, absolutely not. I noticed right away, so it’s definitely a relic. Do you mind if I have a look at it?” He doesn’t think too much of it and extends his hand, Yuria holding it and keeping it in place slowly inspecting the runes and magic embedded into the weapon. “Ah! I don’t think it’s cursed, but it does feel strange. Like…”
The man tries to remember where the sickle even came from. The only thing that comes to mind is a woman, who, if he isn’t wrong, was the one who brought him into the temple. Which means-
“…A seal!” The magician looks thrilled, likely by the fact that she’s able to recognize a spell so old so quickly with just a quick second take. “I wasn’t too sure, since this pattern isn’t widely used, but it’s definitely a seal!” Yuria inspects the weapon closer, completely invested in her discovery.
“Created by the caster, I assume…?” This takes the girl almost completely off guard, not expecting that someone who’s been but utterly clueless so far could deduce something like it. Was he in some way proficient with magic? “I think I can remove it. How about that?” she replies with enthusiasm.
“Isn’t it dangerous? We…don’t really know what it is. This might not be a cursed weapon, but…”
Yuria waves it off, her confidence growing by the second. With the same knowledge that implies removing the seal she can just put it back on if things come to worse. “You gotta know what you gotta know, right? Come on, give it a shot!”
He ponders about it for a little, before sighing in defeat. He’ll put his trust in her, after all she appears more well-versed in magic out of the two. Or at least, such is the case right now. But then it crosses his mind: how does this girl know so much about magic at what seems like such a young age?
“Are you…a Landar, perhaps?” He’d managed to recall a famous –or infamous- family full of magicians using the color of the girl’s hair as a hint. Yuria nods excitedly, thus confirming that his theory was true. It was impressive to say the least that the family has lived on for so long, especially after…
…What was so important? After what?
“Not just any Landar! I’m the Landar’s SECOND! Youngest genius magician! Huhu.” Yuria picks up her staff and taps it against the floor twice, standing straight up with a hand in her chest huffing pridefully. “So, how about it? Would you like me to remove the seal? I’ll do it as a favor, since you saved my life earlier!”
“Haha, fine. I am interested in relics myself.”
“Aye aye sir! Now, let’s see…”
The young magician closes her eyes and focuses magic flow at her fingertips, carefully holding the blade downwards as to not cut her fingers and the handle to keep it still. It’s somewhat heavy in her arms, but it’s something she expected from the beginning considering how unrefined some weapons were way back and how big it is for a weapon in comparison to her.
In no time, a light shines from the gem in the center, forcing them both to look away. Then they turn back in unison to look at said gem… and out of them both, Yuria looks most surprised and puzzled. “Eh?”
“Is it... done?” The albino takes a closer look at it, but finds no visual difference at all. “I thought I did it, but… it doesn’t feel any different!” Yuria crosses her arms and pouts; disappointed, trying to come up with an answer to the predicament. The answers were extra work or her being shamefully outplayed by an ancient seal she knows the translation to. “I definitely removed the seal, is there another layer to it?!”
While the magician complains further, he squints and tries to stare at it a second time, before the girl hands it over with utter defeat in her expression. “This might actually be over my head, if there is another layer to it. It must be more delicate and complicated…It’s a shame.”
The moment he takes it in his hands, something feels… weird. Hard to put into words whether it just felt different or if it was actually heavier than initially expected, but something was wrong with it. “No, hold the thought.” With the sickle in his hands, he tries inspecting it closely. “Something is different, but I…don’t know what that is. Something did indeed change.”
“Huh? What’s going on? Am I in a cage?” All of a sudden, the weapon is on the floor with a resounding clanking noise.
The young man looks beyond startled and it’s probably the most expression Yuria has seen in his face so far. “Hey, are you alright? Is there something wrong with this weapon?”
“Wait, why is my body like this? I can’t move!” What seems to be a spirit in the weapon sounds both confused and somewhat terrified, and he can’t help but feel bad for it. The magician, however, doesn’t seem fazed by in the slightest and soon enough, he figures out she can’t hear the voice.
“It’s nothing. I thought I felt something in my arm, but I may just be tired.” He picks up the sickle again, and puts a hand in Yuria’s head to ruffle her hair. Even if she is a ‘genius magician’, in his eyes she’s still a bit too young to be wandering off by herself. “Do you need me to accompany you on the way out? You did say you weren’t feeling well.” The girl’s cheeks flush pink and she playfully swats his hand away, laughing. “Oh, yeah! I was just about to ask. Please do!”
“Weapon? Are they talking about me? Wha…what’s going on? I don’t understand…”
The sickle continues to be ignored. “I know I was…ah, they must have used me as an experiment. Do they not hear me? Can anyone tell me what’s going on?!”
(Just for now, let’s pretend I can’t hear it.)
Yuria explained in the way out how she became the leader of the camp visiting the temple, basically gloating about how she became the second youngest ‘genius magician’ just behind someone called Aisha, a name the albino could have sworn he’s heard somewhere before.
“Look at you, being the second best in a family full of magicians. You’re really something impressive” For some reason, Yuria’s story seems to ring a bell in his head, but can’t say with security what that is. And the more he looks at Yuria’s demeanor the bigger a nostalgic, empty feeling grew.
“A Landar, huh? No wonder she has purple hair”
“I feel bad for making my sister deal with my responsibilities… but we were really busy since the Large El restored-” He stops.
Hearing about the large El struck a nerve for some reason, and the man breaks into a cold sweat without really knowing why. Yuria stops in her tracks noticing that she’s been talking to the wind. “Sir? Are you alright? You look…pale, again? Did I say something wrong?”
“What is she talking about? The restoration of the El? When was the El destroyed?” The weapon mutters and looks up at its current holder, and quickly notices how silent he’s gone and how nervous he is. “Does he know anything about it…?”
“No, it’s…nothing. My head just hurts…maybe it’s related to my memory loss. Don’t worry about it, Ms. Yuria.” He holds his head with a hand whilst slowly catching up to her speed, rubbing the side of his face. The large El being destroyed…the thought of it gives him shivers and a tightness in his chest that feels way too personal to be a simple shock from already century old news. “Let’s move on…what, uh, did you say you were looking for?”
“Uhh…” The girl really wants to turn it around and ask him if everything is okay, but ultimately decides once more against it. The last thing she wants to do is making an already nervous amnesiac, even more nervous, especially when he’s only helped her so far. “Well, there’s something I’ve been investigating, and I was positive that this temple was related somehow.”
The man was only half listening to both his new weapon and the young girl.
“Anyone? I don’t care who, I just need someone to notice me!”
“It’s not like me to be out of my element like this…”
“Aha!”
He’s startled by Yuria’s sudden scream and a loud cracking noise, where his immediate reaction was stepping in front of her…only for both of them to realize it wasn’t anything serious.
“What the…? Oh. The brick shattered.” She stared at one of the walls of the temple which now had a small crack on it. Yuria sighs in relief, but the man side stares at the weapon for a second, who’s just confessed its crime of accidentally scaring her…and apologizing for it. “What a relief! I thought it was another monster. Sorry, I think I startled you with my scream…”
“It’s alright” He puts a hand on her shoulder and pats her gently both relieved that it was in fact nothing too serious, but also somewhat impressed by the sickle spirit’s capacities, despite being inside a weapon. (Doesn’t seem evil from what I’ve seen so far. He? even… apologized.) “What do I do now? There might be a way if I can get to Seven Tower…”
“Hey, our camp is at the entrance of the temple. I’d like to invite you over, as a thanks for saving my life.” Yuria smiles at her new companion and staying in place waiting for an answer. He then remembers about…the last time, and his face scrunches in discomfort.
But perhaps…given the new variations…
“Sure thing. Let’s go”
Yuria hurriedly runs toward the closest campers, her face colorless with anxiety and fear, staring at the people she’s supposed to be leading all in pain either in or out of their tents. Some were throwing up, many of them claimed to be seeing things, but absolutely every one of them had fever and pains. “What’s going on?! Answer me!”
“What’s going on? A mass poisoning?” The weapon questions to itself, unable to see the whole spectrum of the area only hypothesizing through the sound and the sensations the entire place emanated.
But his holder, on the other hand, looked completely lost in thought- horrified, and mumbling. “It’s…the same as before?”
Despite hearing someone else approach, Yuria calling this new someone shortly after, his eyes only fixate on the sick campers unsure if he’s trying to understand what went wrong, trying to figure out what is happening, or both.
“A curse? It’s strange…” The sickle’s voice is the only one that sounds clear in his mind. “It looks like the effects of poison to me.”
The albino slowly approaches one of the campers and kneels down, catching the attention of the person who had just arrived. “If it’s a curse, why are these two unaffected? It’s strange for a curse to be so inconsistent.”
“Yuria, have any of the campers eaten anything unusual? Beyond your provisions.” Gently, he holds a young boy’s hand, the boy not seeming to mind the touch as it happens to feel somewhat relieving. Staring at the child made a sense of melancholy tighten his chest.
“Who are you?” Finally, he turns around to see a woman with mauve colored hair, the person who was talking to Yuria. “He saved me inside the temple” The young magician replies in his stead, to then turns around at her companion. “I don’t think they have…? Titania suggested it may be the temple’s curse. Come to think of it, I did feel fatigued soon after I entered the temple.”
The woman, Titania, was staring right at him and that weapon he held. For some reason her gaze felt somewhat threatening even though her demeanor showed worry. “I see, you’re the one who…” for a moment she holds back words, but then sighs and her expression changes to a lighter one. “Thank you for saving Yuria. I wish we could reward you in some way, but as you can see, we’re in a bit of a spot.”
Something about Titania feels…wrong, that it makes him feel somewhat uneasy. “There’s a difference in severity, but at this rate, everyone will lose their lives.”
He stands up suddenly, eyes still fixated on the child from a moment ago. That stare then switches to his own hands, and seemingly remembering something, he turns to both Titania and Yuria. “Whether it’s a curse or poison, moon magic could help.”
Titania looks back at him still apparently pondering for a solution herself. “Moon magic? There’s not many people who can use such magic nowadays.”
Things are slowly becoming a little awkward because the precise answer to their doubts are locked behind his amnesia, and for now he can only say so much as they slowly resurface. “I’m proficient at using moon magic…or at least, I once was.”
Every little noise that came from the campers made their anxiety worse. Because he wasn’t entirely sure in how he’d help so many people, and especially now knowing he’d already left them to die once. The same thing can’t repeat. “But I don’t think just my weak magic will be enough for all these people.”
This seems to ring a bell for the young magician, who snaps her fingers and looks at Titania, holding her staff close to her chest. “We could use Moonflower.” The woman’s face scrunches slightly. “Moonflower?”
“We saw some of on our way here, remember? Maybe with, uh, his power? We could help the campers with the help of the moonflower!”
The woman’s expressions shifts and her cheeks flush pink. “... You're right. Moonflower removes spells that confuse our senses and can cure poison. And if it's a flower growing in Elriabrunnr...”
…Elriabrunnr?
A name that feels oddly familiar, as if he’d been in one before, perhaps many times. But where? Vaguely recalling what they are and what they do, maybe then he could make up for some of his lost power there.
“Not a bad idea, Yuria! I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of it at first as a plant expert. Yes, it should be worth a try.”
Yuria scratches the back of her head and laughs. “I secretly studied your books in my spare time. Now that it’s decided, I’ll be on my way.” The young magician attempts walking away, but is stopped in her tracks almost immediately by her sister who holds her shoulders noticing how Yuria’s entire figure was shaking still; albeit only mildly now. “Don’t be silly, you’re cursed as well. I’ll go, you stay here and take care of everyone.”
“I’ll go with Titania.” He suddenly counters, taking the attention from the both of them. Apparently, Yuria appears to have the same idea, but for very different reasons. “You’re right. There are monsters here…it might be a little too much for Titania.” The woman seems a little saddened by her sister’s words and tries to say her name in midst of a disappointed whisper in an attempt to dissuade her, to no avail. “Plus, maybe you can get something out of the moonflowers! Just for the safety of both. Okay?”
Something about the vivid greenery of the Moonlight Hill is… disconcerting. Even though he’s now aware of the time that passed after Elrianode first disappeared, it still feels wrong that everything looks as lively as it does.
Titania snaps him out of the thought. “You notice how the plants here have a different color to them? I assume you know why that is.”
The flowers from before had a more yellow tint to them, but the higher up into the hill they were, many of them were of a more blue or pink tonality. “This up here is the Elriabrunnr?”
Titania nods, but then stops briefly and looks at her companion. “Yes, well…we should split here.”
He stops as well, a few steps higher up. “…Pardon?”
For some reason she looks uncomfortable, her brow creased and hands clasped together in a pose somewhat awkward. “I know I said I would be fine, but it’s true that my magic is nothing to brag about. I can’t have you distracting me while searching the parameters.”
The man swallows down a bitter taste in his mouth along the wish of retorting with something, instead choosing to hear the rest of it. “So we should split up and search the flowers separately.”
There’s a small vibration in his hand and quickly he realizes that it’s the weapon. Wondering if they maybe had similar thoughts, he sighs and shrugs quietly. There’s something that still feels odd, even somewhat wrong, but perhaps he’s just worrying too much about too many things- the ill campers, Yuria, his memory still mostly gone and with it key components about his identity and the fact that said memories come back at seemingly random times; creating a sense of paranoia.
Perhaps, he’s just anxious and simply needed to relax. “Fine, you seem like you can handle yourself, Titania.”
She nods and bows down lightly in gratitude. “I can’t really control the range of my magic. You might end up caught in my poisonous spores or vines. Thank you for understanding.”
And just like that, they split ways for the time being.
When Titania is far away enough, he lifts up the sickle and stares right at the center of it, where a gem that resembled an eye sat…and behaved the same way as one, now that he hears it speak. “Strange. Isn’t it better to stay together in a situation like this…?”
(Maybe so, but I can’t tell for sure.) The albino holds the weapon with both of his hands looking for a better position to put it in, and finally decides to stop leaving the poor spirit hanging. “Maybe we can cover more ground this way.”
The sickle is startled and it further confirms the theory of the gem working as an eye, circle and the ring shrinking momentarily simulating an expression of shock. “Huh?! I knew it! You! You can hear my voice!” With an awkward laugh the albino continues walking thinking on how to explain his predicament, which may as well be an excuse. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about it before, but… I, hm, don’t really have a lot of my memory.”
The eye goes through an entire range of emotions, but most obviously is confusion. “So if I spoke to you before, I feel like I would end up coming across as losing my mind.” And then the sickle looks more offended than anything. “But how come you can speak? Are you some sort of ego weapon?” the albino continues with his own set of questions wishing to figure out what exactly he was dealing with right now.
“Well, no. I might look like a weapon now, but I was originally a person!” The man’s eyes widen in surprise and befuddlement. “Listen well, buddy. I’m Clamor, a scholar of Seven Tower. Because of evil people, I’m now stuck in this weapon.” Clamor sighs audibly, annoyed by knowing how exactly he ended up in that situation, stuck in a chunk of metal. Even though he’s no longer staring at him, the albino is listening closely to his every word trying to figure out if anything Clamor says could potentially spark a memory or two.
A chirping noise distracts the both of them, noise which became progressively louder. Before the albino can even register what the noise is, he finds himself forced to attack creatures living in the hill in self-defense. The first few violent swings of the sickle startle Clamor, who yelps in surprise and complains about feeling dizzy with all the quick movement.
‘I’m sorry’ He’d mutter almost every single time to every little Derurung he’d knock out in the way. He hated doing it, but they needed to make their way up and running away could lead to potentially being swarmed by the little critters, that were in fact, maybe a little stronger than he initially anticipated and became tired sooner than what was hoped for.
“Ugh…phew. Are we done? At least you can defend yourself…” Even though Clamor wasn’t exactly in danger being now a weapon, his holder surely was, and with just some fighting he seemed exhausted. “Hey, you alright? You look very…exhausted for just a few monsters.”
“I’m getting used to it. It’s just…” The man stops walking briefly to catch a break thanking the Goddess that the sun wasn’t blasting him on top of all the fighting, not with how pale his skin is. “I...don’t remember being very efficient with your kind of weapon. Always been more of using magic, I think.” Looking up, the flowers slowly became bluer in color, and his own exhaustion began to wear off more rapidly thanks to the increasing moon energy. “And I don’t like fighting, either…”
“Hey, can I ask you something? Hopefully you’ll know, since I’m still not sure of what’s going on and that’s making me uneasy.” Clamor mentions with a tint of concern in his voice. The albino doesn’t straight up answer, but instead stares right at the eye making a low ‘mhm’ sound.
“What year is it…?”
“So what you’re saying is, the El suddenly became and lost control of its power, eventually leading to the Great Explosion…” Clamor squinted, too busy trying to digest the information that he’s been given bit by bit. “And the Elrian Kingdom was destroyed during the explosion and is now considered an ancient civilization?”
The albino can’t really hear the spirit talk anymore. Merely thinking about the Great Explosion gave him a headache that only seemed to worsen by the second, muffling away every other noise and before even realizing it, he found himself tumbling over toward a large bush surrounded by flowers. Clamor, who was in the middle of stating his conclusions out loud, is startled both from the violent roll and finally getting to take at his holder’s face, who broke into a terrible cold sweat. “Hey! Buddy? Are you okay? You…look really in pain…”
“I-I’m fine, Clamor.” He tried ignoring the ringing in his ears, and only by finally settling down for a few seconds did the pain begin to simmer. “Of course you’re not! Look at you! You look like if you had just been stabbed in the gut!” Clamor retorted, more concerned than anything. Much to his dismay, it’s not that he could do literally anything to help his holder in this situation and could only helplessly look at the guy doing his best to not pass out right then and there.
“…Here, take a break. How about we try talking while you rest? Maybe I can help you remember some things that way.” For this entire time the spirit has been curious about his companion, so the albino mentioning his amnesia as his very first current quality was to say the least, troubling. Especially now that the guy in question looks like he’s ready to become one with the ground and grass under them. “But now what…a thousand years into the future.”
“You’ve been like this for a thousand years?” Inquired the albino, Clamor in turn looking at him and blinking for a few seconds, realizing then that he probably hadn’t heard the portion of his complaining. “Where should I start…like I said, I was a scholar of Seven Tower. I developed semi-permanent magical items with minimal mana loss.” The spirit replies, not taking his gaze off of his holder wondering if using some sort of protective spell would help in case the pain comes back. “One day, a group of fanatics commissioned an order, so I made a blueprint and handed it over. But, it was a trap...”
(Why does this feel so familiar…?) Finding himself wholly invested in Clamor’s story, the pain mostly fades away. He planned for a second on standing up and continuing with their way uphill, until spirit mentions something that sends another sudden sting of pain to his head. “I was essentially stabbed in the back and ended up like this. Do you understand? So I must find the Order and get my body back.”
Order?
“Henir’s…Order?” The man’s voice has fallen only barely under a breath, yet Clamor still hears this. “Don’t tell me…Henir’s Order is still around after a thousand years?”
The pain doesn’t come back, but the anxiety does and it becomes almost overwhelming in no time. He’s forced to hold the sickle with both hands so it doesn’t slip off his hands, only to then fearfully grasp is tightly as if Clamor would vanish in thin air if he held on any looser. “I don’t know if they are…but they…they-”
The weapon moves. It causes the albino to gasp, for a second thinking the worst but soon relieved by seeing the blade still in his hands. The spirit inside sighs, not entirely sure whether it’s prudent to probe into unknown territory; to ask or not. As it could be a good chance for the man to recover a portion or his memory…or make his mental state worse in a complete coin flip scenario. Carefully, he asks in a whisper “…What did the Order do to you?”
And sure enough, the headache returns. And with it, do the memories.
“I…had, a little brother once, named Noah…” Recalling the scenarios proved to be a challenge, but the name of his little brother was the only thing that came to his mind when he first woke up. There was no way he would ever forget something so important, that he held so close to his heart… moreover, what happened.
Details of it were blurred and short from feeling like a fever dream, yet the mention of Henir’s Order seemed to open a wound that had been secretly festering all this time.
“They, killed… Noah.” He continues softly between shaky breaths as the details become clearer, soon realizing that missing pieces he tried putting together only needed a push from someone else to surface. “An Order member posed as my brother and deceived everyone in our family…including me.”
Something felt odd. Almost…wrong.
He knows that, at least to a degree, this is the truth. Or at least, he wants to think so… but then why does it feel like something is missing?
Why didn’t he do anything about it as it happened?
It makes no sense. Something is not right. Something is very wrong.
And he knows it somehow ties with everything that happened after. That is ties to the Great Explosion…but how?
Who... is he?
“He…y? Buddy? Can you hear me? Are you okay…?” Clamor shakes his current vessel in an attempt to make his holder snap out of the trance. For a moment he regrets even thinking to ask, but soon realizes the albino is mumbling something.
Noah… Noah-
“Ebalon…” A faint glimmer in his eyes is quickly followed by a sense of familiarity, and soon, realization. Lifting his head slowly, barely hearing Clamor continuing to ask about his current state in concern who then quickly becomes confused and even somewhat intimidated by being directly stared at. “Buddy?”
“…My name is Harque.” With just a barely audibly mumble, as if he was reminding himself of this fact. Reminding himself, bit by bit, of who he is. “My name is Harque Ebalon…nice to meet you, Clamor.” Harque raises his voice to make sure his companion heard him clear.
Clamor sighs in relief, whilst the eye of his vessel closed. Then he laughs softly.
“Is that so? Well then, nice to meet you too, Harque. I’m glad you could find yourself again.”
They share that moment, something so akin to ignorant bliss for maybe a few seconds, before Harque slowly stops himself thanks to his persistent headache. “But I still can’t remember…what happened that night.” The weapon’s stare shifts to somewhere else as if evading visual contact, quickly deciding that it was pointless for the time being. “It’s fine, then. We’ll figure that out later. That means we have a common goal, don’t we?”
A common goal felt like a solid ground for agreement. One half of Harque’s mind wished to remember, whilst the other half urged to keep in forgetting and remain ignorant; yet if he decided to stay as it was, it would feel as if everything was in vain.
Moving on with Clamor by his side felt like the best answer, even if it was, or wasn’t, for himself.
“Once we are done helping the people in Yuria’s camp, we’ll be heading to the Order’s headquarters, then-”
Ah, yes. Awkward silence.
Harque had just got himself back on his feet, noticing that he was being stared right at by the sickle, who blinked rapidly as if he’d been taken off guard- because he was, in fact, taken off guard.
“Um…I don’t. Actually. Know a place, that is. I told you, I’m from a thousand years ago, and I just woke up.”
“Oh.” The albino feels so awfully embarrassed by the realization that, if he felt clueless in this situation, then Clamor is probably in an even worse spot. “I…forgot.”
“Right. Your memory isn’t good, at all.”
It would be rough for the both of them. Clamor quickly deduces that their headquarters must be somewhere that isn’t Elrianode, according to both his own account and his holder’s … or actually just the little information he has gathered from their little chit-chats. “Even though their whereabouts are still unknown, we have each other now, don’t we?”
Putting it that way it felt at least a little more hopeful, given one of them has no idea of what has happened in the last thousand or so years, and the other has little to no memory of anything before waking up besides the catastrophe that shook all of Elrios…
And the thought of his little brother.
Harque carefully holds all the flowers in a half-assed bouquet, held together by a piece of cloth he accidentally cut off from his clothes in a recent fight. “This should be enough, right?” he asks with concern, the image of the sick campers still lingering in his mind.
“Considering how many people were at the camp, this should be enough when Titania brings her share.”
As the man stares at the collected flowers, a small sentiment of nostalgia rises only to be abruptly cut off from his own thoughts at the sound of footsteps. “Which speaking of, I see her coming this way. Is she alright? It looks like she’s injured.”
Harque quickly stands back up and turns around to face the woman, who herself brings another batch of moonflowers in her arms. Her expression doesn’t seem to shift even though Harque’s does, worried that she could in fact need help. “Finally. I was looking for you.”
“What happened? Your leg…do you need-” Titania adjusts the flowers in her right forearm, waving her left hand in dismissal. “I made a wrong turn earlier. They struggled harder than I expected. I took care of it.” Her tone borders nonchalance when her smile remains the same. Even if she sounds calm and confident enough about it, something in Harque’s chest stirred and he isn’t exactly sure of what it is. “Now, please give me the flowers. I can’t waste more time.”
“But you’re injured, Titania. Wouldn’t it be better if I…” He is once again interrupted by the woman, who sighs between her smiles; dusting off her leg to prove a point. “It’s just a stain. I’m not injured, don’t worry about it.”
It doesn’t exactly sit in right with him. Whether Titania was injured or not, something felt oddly…off. Perhaps though it was just paranoia, worry, or both, considering that they in fact probably did not have much time left. Titania didn’t have much time left if she wanted to help the campers back at the temple.
“If…you say so, I suppose.” Harque hands over the flowers shyly, thinking of what he, they, should do next. “Thank you so much.” Titania says, snapping him right out of his thoughts. “I wish I could reward you in some way, but…as you know, I have patients to take care of.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad I could help.” While still concerned about the current state of the campers, his mind slowly calms at the thought that soon enough, they would find relief. The woman stares at him for a few seconds, inquiring, “You’re leaving? Do you know where you’re headed?”
For a moment, Harque freezes. No, he doesn’t.
Clamor doesn’t really know, either. But if the both of them want to continue with their goal, there was some place they should go. Elrianode comes to mind, his place of birth- but with the knowledge of Elrios being once thorn in half, what would be the way ‘home’ now?
“No, not yet, but I think I have an idea.” If he isn’t entirely wrong, and if his memory isn’t failing, then they should be somewhere close to Lanox, the closest village to Elrianode. “Please, take care of Yuria and everyone. Hopefully we’ll meet again in the future.”
Titania, seemingly happy with the fruits of their little effort, bows. “I see, it was nice meeting you then. I won’t forget your assistance today.”
Just like that, she walks off in the opposite direction.
There’s just a few moments of silence where Harque reunites with his thoughts and doubts, with Yuria being the first thing in his mind. It’s not something he outright stated, but there’s something that deeply worries him about someone her age being put in danger and a position of such responsibility.
“Huh. Something feels odd about that one. Maybe we should follow her?” Clamor’s voice catches his attention, unconsciously lifting the spirit’s vessel closer to himself to ease their communication. “I don’t know, Clamor. In my current state, I think I would be more of a bother.”
“But we didn’t say goodbye to that girl, Yuria. She might feel disappointed that you left so suddenly.”
The albino sighs, feeling himself so suddenly powerless. If his memory wasn’t as blurry as it was, perhaps there would be more he’d be able to do. “Her family is sick… she seems like a strong girl, and she has her sister with her. They should be okay, hopefully…”
Clamor seems to swallow his words by remaining mostly silent, but in the eye of his vessel there’s hints of worry and doubt alike. In a way, he understands where Harque is coming from- if it’s been hard for him to deal with an amnesiac, he can only think about how frustrating it is for his holder to be deprived of something so important such as one’s memories; whatever the cause may be.
“We should go.”
“Buddy.” Clamor’s voice progressively shows more concern, noticing how his own vision becomes unsteady and even somewhat shaky. “You’ve been walking without rest for a while now. You REALLY should take a rest.”
“You, think so?” Harque sounds somewhat genuine in this question and it kind of pisses off his weapon, who can only half believe what he’s hearing. “Are you really asking such thing? Your walk is becoming steadily more unstable.”
The weapon doesn’t hear anything for a few minutes. “Hey, are you listening to me? Buddy? ...Harque!” Everything promptly spins around and feels slightly darker, noticing that Harque did, in fact, listen to his advice, catching a glance of some leaves covering them and creating a shade that the albino decided to rest under. “See? Not so bad to be under the shade of a tree, in such a pretty day, with the quiet rustling of the leaves and the wind. In fact, you could sleep here, it’d be fantastic.”
Harque stifles down a laugh, carefully placing the sickle in his lap in a way that’s comfortable for the both of them to chat. As his heart rate slows down into normalcy, a question that’s been on the back of his mind rises back up. “Clamor, how are you so calm? In this situation you are in now. Everyone you know is probably gone.”
They share a moment of silence while Clamor seems to meditate his answer. The silence is broken with a tired sigh coming from the weapon. “Of course…I’m only mortal. I’m worried, nervous… I can’t help but think, why me? I also have a lot of regrets.”
For the ‘sickle’, it was a weird thought that he’s now a weapon. The last thing he can remember is being in Seven Tower, and then just a huge blur that blocks everything after it. When he next wakes up, he’s in this situation, with someone he’s never met before. “If only I could go back in time, I would make a different choice. I get that…”
As he catches a glance of the concern in Harque’s expression, Clamor’s tone shifts looking up to the leaves from the tree they’re under, finding that he actually missed something as simple as the peace of their rustling noise or the chirping of birds despite being unconscious, unaware, for so many years. “But you can’t stay worried all the time. That’s depressing, and keeps you on edge for far too long.”
Harque finds himself meditating over the weapon’s words, a feeling of sadness for something he can’t quite remember giving him a headache that doesn’t grow, but remains constant, from a memory that wants to resurface but doesn’t know how. “From my experience, it’s best to focus on something else when you feel like this. And for me, that’s learning about this brand new world I’ve woken up to. Though, that may not be your case, is it?”
“…Not really, if I’m honest.” His holder replies in a mumble, and Clamor starts to recognize this as the start of another possible bout of remembrance. As much as he’d love Harque to start remembering his life, the last episode was terrible enough to frighten him; and another headache is the last thing Harque needs as tired as he probably is. “I think, rather than focusing on being lost in an unknown world, we should be excited about the second chance we’ve been given. Isn’t that better?”
‘You’re probably right’ the albino thinks, but doesn’t state this out loud. To be completely fair, the last time around, it’s not like he thought a lot about finding out about the current time, and was more focused in searching for something, anything, that could give him but a glance of what happened in the past. With the order, with his family. It was unfruitful and exhausting.
At least, this time, he has someone with whom he shares a goal with. That was more than enough to keep himself going.
“Hey, falling asleep, are we?” He can barely hear Clamor anymore. “That’s fine. We do deserve a break, don’t we? Don’t worry. I won’t go anywhere just because you closed your eyes for a bit.”
With that, Harque closes his eyes, deep down wishing for all to be but a bad dream.