Fractured Memories

Chapter 1: Blank Slate

"You must be the Linarian I've heard so much about," she said.

An unbidden memory surfaced. I latched onto it, unwilling to let go of it.

"I'm not from Linaria."

She chuckled. "Oh, I didn't say you were. Linarian is not a place, dear. It's what we are. Of course, with your darker skin and the dark spots on your nose and the tips of your ears, I'd say you're from the southern region of the continent."

"I'm from . . ."

"Yes?"

I struggled to form the name niggling at the back of my mind. "I . . . I'm . . . from . . . Algallen."

Mimsy grinned and clapped her hands. "Wonderful. Now, we're getting somewhere! The guard you met this morning at the main gate mentioned you had some sort of memory loss. Never fear, my dear. We'll have your memories back in no time. Until then, you'll continue moving forward."

"But—"

She waved a hand in the air in dismissal. "Nope. Whatever you have to say, please don't. Consider this a blank slate. It's a means for you to start over."

I latched onto her words. They hit home in more ways than one.

A blank slate. That's exactly what I was. I had no memory of who I was, what I was, or where I'd come from. Aside from this random memory, nothing else seemed familiar. I didn't even know my own name.

Mimsy's voice cut through my reverie. I focused on her once more.

She chuckled and said, "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

My face grew warm. "No."

"That's okay. I understand, trust me. Do you have a name?"

I wracked my brains for something, anything that would tell me who I was. Another random thought surfaced.

"My name is Terrixx. Terrixx Atalier," I said with certainty.

A broad grin spread across her face. "See? It's coming back, albeit slowly. It's wonderful to meet you, Terrixx. I'm Mimsy Mayweather, headmistress of this establishment. My father established the Daredevil's Guild aeons ago as a means for people to congregate and share the knowledge they've gathered throughout their travels. We have a branch here in the city, as well as in Algallen and Pelauorie."

Mimsy ducked down behind the counter. She reappeared and held a hand out in my direction.

I accepted the small turquoise blue-colored pearl she handed me.

"This is a communication device. It's accessible from every—and I do mean every—part of the world. The pearl allows you to contact the guild at any time. Just ask for the person in question and you'll be connected to them, lickety-split. You tap the pearl once to turn it on. Tap it twice to begin the communication process. It's as easy as that. Should you ever lose it along the way, we can have another pearl sent out to you in no time."

I pocketed the pearl and nodded. "Thank you."

She leaned forward and wrapped her hands around the book lying on the counter in front of her. "I'm our guild's registrar. I keep a tally of everyone who comes into the city. Since you've no knowledge of where you truly came from, aside from remembering your name, we'll begin the process of your becoming a resident of Euncara. The process is a long one, however. Is this something you're comfortable with? Or shall I list you as a visitor instead?"

With no knowledge of where I'd come, what I'd done for a living room, who I was—or anything else, for that matter—being a part of something was better than nothing. If anything, I could re-obtain whatever ties I had to whatever nation I came from later on. Surely, such a thing was possible, right?

"That's fine. I could always change my allegiance should I ever remember where I've come from, can't I?"

Mimsy nodded and smiled. "Of course. We don't hold grudges against those who wish to align with the other capitals. For the moment, you'd have a place to call home. The best part, you get your own inn room here in the city. You also obtain your own mount, which makes it easier to travel. We've bred our own Pochin's, and offer all those who align with Euncara the option of having one of their own. It's yours to keep for life."

The thought of not having to walk everywhere was tempting. Being apart of something sounded even better. At least until I found out what I needed to know about myself and the past that seemed to elude me.

"I'd like to start the process," I said, several minutes later.

Mimsy's smile broadened. "We'll apply for your permanent residency, then?"

"Yes."

She grabbed a blue quilled pen lying to the right of the registrar book, holding the writing instrument in my direction.

I approached the counter and daintily plucked the pen out of her hand. With careful strokes, I signed my name and handed the pen back to her.

"Wondeful," she said, initialing the registration and setting the pen aside. "I'll have your inn room prepared. Why don't you take some time to familiarize yourself with the city? Come back in an hour or so. The room should be ready by then."

"Okay," I said, turning around to face the establishment's entrance.

"One more thing," Mimsy said.

I faced her once more.

"Your missing memories."

"Yes?"

"They'll come back. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But they will come back. You've gone through a traumatic experience. It's fractured your psyche. I suspect it's a side effect of the cataclysm. A good many who've come this way have experienced the same thing. What caused this event, we will never know. What we can do, however, is move on and learn to live with the events of our past. You're a blank slate right now, but we'll fill you up with new memories and experiences soon enough."

I wanted to believe her every word. That I'd remember everything lost to me right now. I realized I needed to believe in her. To latch on to something real. For all intents and purposes, this felt real. As real it could get, anyway. Deep inside, I prayed none of this was a dream. That it would it all come back to me as time went by.

Mimsy sighed and offered me another of her gentle smiles. "Now, run along. Enjoy what the city has to offer."

Without uttering another word, I turned once more and walked out of the Daredevil's Guild. Standing on the guild's steps, I stared at the city spreading out before me. For better or worse, this was my life now. I'd been granted a second chance. Whatever had caused my amnesia, I had faith that my memories would return. If they didn't—well, Mimsy said I could make new memories.

Unwilling to continue dwelling on what I couldn't understand, I squared my shoulders and ran down the steps. Life was meant to lived and savored. From this moment on, I meant to do just that.