Chapter 3: Awakening

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                                                                                   "Awakening"


Drip.

Drip.

Cold droplets hit my face, stirring my consciousness. I could hear voices, though not quite distinguishable. Drip. Another cold droplet splashed against my eyelid before sliding down the contours of my cheek.

"Troy...Troy...Troy..." a soothing voice seemed to play over like a lullaby.

"He is waking up!" Another voice said overhead. I slowly opened up my eyes, only to see a blur of faces. I blinked again before cringing at the bright light beaming from the window and the now clear faces of strange men. I eased myself up to the headrest of the bed, only for my chest to protest in sharp stabbing pains. I could see the three faces light up with joy over seeing me wake up, although I did not understand why.

"We thought we lost you," the oldest man said with a sigh of relief. Veins covered his hands like....vines—that is what they reminded me of—as they stroked my scalp. Wincing, I turned my head away from his hand. I looked at the three distinct men; representing three generations that hovered over me, with one standing behind the other two.

"Who are you?" I rasped.

"I am your grandfather. Do you remember me?"

I stared up, concentrating on the soul behind those brownish-green orbs. I shook my head. Nobody had to tell me the look of pain that registered on his face. I wounded him without even meaning to.

"What about Apollus? Do you remember him?" he asked, pointing at the young, well-composed man, who stood beside him. I had tried to study his eyes, a blend of green and brown, to see if I could remember the soul that possessed them.

"You look familiar as if I knew you from somewhere," I said softly while examining his youthful pristine features that revealed that he was not much older than I.

"You really did have a bad fall," Apollus said. "Do you remember father or you forgot him too?" Apollus said with a bite to his words. The old man glared at the young man. I glanced from Apollus who was fidgeting to the man several paces away from the bed. I squinted at him before saying, "Come closer." He took three steps toward my bedside.

"Troy I am your father," he said in a hollow voice. "We are just relieved you pulled through." I felt a bit uneasy as he began to gaze long and hard at me, as if he was inspecting me. I stared right back looking at the creases under his dark eyes, set deep in his brow. His rough hands ran through my hair before a fingernail snagged at every bend in the shaft. The contours of his face were similar to Apollus but more rigid, matured with age. Upon closer inspection, his face softened, but I could not understand what was going on or how I ended up in this position.

I cleared my rusty voice to ask the question I have been dying to ask. "What happened to me?"

"You were in a terrible accident. You fell off a horse and hit your head against the ground. You just woke up from a three day sleep. We did not know if you would wake up. But you are alive now, but not without wounds," he said stroking my forehead. "I am assuming you do not remember much after the fall. Hopefully this is just a lapse of memory," he said in a calm yet empty tone.

"Maybe you will remember who this is?" Father said handing me a locket. I marveled at the shiny gold chain, now cupped in my hand. I opened the locket and inside was a picture of a mother and baby.

"This is a nice picture. But who does it belong to?"

"It belongs to you. I hoped that maybe it would prompt something."

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