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A masked figure clad in white and purple stands at the peak of a mountain. For some reason, he feels... At peace here. Is he at peace? He doesn’t know. He can’t recall much of anything anymore. Everything is fuzzy and drifting in the sea of his mind.
Another figure approaches from behind, quietly but not hiding their presence.
Presence… their aura, it feels… safe. Good.
“Xiao.” The stranger calls.
Xiao… that sounds... Familiar.
The masked figure turns, the inexpressive teal eyes of his mask level their glowing gaze at the stranger- a man with long blond hair. It’s beautiful, he thinks.
“Who is… is that my name?” The pieces of the masked man’s memories try in vain to reform around this new anchor- the name, the soothing aura, the calm yet despaired voice, the beautiful golden hair and eyes- but it slips away like sand.
A surge of pain crashes through his body like a tempest, wisps of clawing darkness lash into the air violently. Every time he tries to remember something, anything, this pain ravages his body, punishes him for some reason he doesn’t know.
This time, the pain stops short.
When he comes to, the golden man is cupping his face and the darkness flees like shadows in the sun. His hands are so warm and gentle, he could stay here forever. But why does he feel this way? Why does he feel so safe in the hands of a stranger?
“...Who are you? Do you know me?” The masked man finally asks, his voice still strained despite the aborted episode.
For some reason, the man before him begins to cry. Did he say something wrong? But he only asked a question. Humans are so confusing and there’s so much he doesn’t know, so much that keeps slipping through his fingers every time he tries to remember.
The golden man gives him a smile so sad that, despite only having just met him, his heart feels like it's splintering in his chest. It somehow feels worse than any wound the hilichurls or vishaps ever inflicted on him, yet he does not bleed.
The golden man pulls his hands away from his face and takes the masked man’s hands in his, squeezing them tightly. When he looks down, he notices a bracelet around the golden man’s wrist as well as his own.
Both bracelets are woven of black and teal, adorned with a pure white feather and a glowing white gem.
A headache builds behind his eyes. This is important… But why? What does it mean? He goes to ask again but is cut short when the golden man speaks.
“It’s… alright, Xiao.” The golden man’s voice trembles even as he tries to keep it steady. The masked man’s heart splinter’s further. “Even if I must remind you everyday for the rest of our lives, I will gladly do so. And when the day comes that you can’t remember at all…”
The golden man sobs wetly as he collapses to his knees and presses his forehead to the masked man’s hands
“I’ll remember for both of us.”