2 WEEKS LATER.
It had been a while since their memory loss.
Although their past was on a fishing rod, and their memories were on the hook as it led them on, they had been more focused on hunting rather than anything else. Which was, by all means, important—for, after all, they were in the middle of the forests, and surviving, at that, which meant that though their memories had served a vital role in their lives, surviving and hunting was necessary if they wanted to keep themselves alive long enough for their memories to return.
However, time had grown by, and soon, their food stocks had become full and healthy—and they had grown to become curious about their pasts, as any would be when they were placed in an amnesiac's position.
They had found various notebooks; however, some of them were mostly blank, and none had provided information that they really needed — however, Lexa had taken upon herself to study one of the notebooks in-depth, so she could report and gather her findings in one place later on, and hopefully learn more about their pasts and their current situation.
It would take a few days; perhaps even more, if Lexa wanted to meticulously note all her findings down somewhere else and tried to make sense of it all, with regards to their predicament. Especially when the notebooks didn't provide much help in discerning their situation, for most of it were sketches that were of majestic towers and machinery and rubble; but when she looked, tried to find the places that were drawn there, she realised that they were nothing like here.
However, it did not mean that it would be impossible to retrieve their memories. For even if it were sketches of places that once was; even of places imaginary that wasn't here, it was a step. A step towards their pasts and their memories.
There was another notebook she had found, during one of the times when they went out hunting and left her behind—one that had seemed almost alike a diary, and when Lexa flipped through found that it was abundant to the core with sketches and text—which she had told all of them about once they returned home, and ever since had kept it stowed away. Something told her that the notebook was important; and even though the words were hard to discern, and the letters had sometimes been jammed so closely she had to squint to look—she would read and transcribe, as long as it was necessary.
Hopefully, her time would be not for nought—and hopefully, their answers would reside within there, in an inconspicuous brown notebook that was overlooked by them all.
...
? Days After Praimfaya
''You don't need to care so much about food, Luna,'' Clarke said, a small, exasperated smile on her face, as she watched Luna furiously scribble notes about their food storage in a notebook. ''We've got more than enough now. After all, we hunt all day, and that's quite enough in itself, isn't it?''
''No, it is not, Clarke,'' Luna grunted, still turned to the back of Clarke as she wrote down notes on the notebook, accompanied by what seemed like some furious dotting which very nearly broke the graphite. ''We hunt every day because that is the only way if we wish to secure our supplies for the four of us. Food is more important than you realise, and thus is why we need to spend so much time on it.''
Clarke sighed, the smile still toying her face, as she looked at a very intently focused Luna. ''I'm not saying it isn't,'' she began, trying to keep the slight exasperation from her voice. ''I'm just saying that—Luna, you're quite obsessed with food. Have you ever thought of the possible reasons behind that...?''
Luna scowled. ''Shoj op, Clarke. I am merely doing it for all of us. Not for the nonsensical reason you have conjured in your head wherein I have a food obsession.'' There was a pause. ''Additionally, having a supply of food is not a bad thing. Do not shame me when I am doing something for the good of us.''
Clarke held up her hands, even though Luna's back was turned towards her. ''Never said I was shaming you,'' she said.
Luna scowled again, finally putting the graphite down with an ounce of anger that made it seem like she threw it instead, and she turned, glaring at Clarke. ''You implied it.''
''Haven't. No implications here.'' Clarke said, still holding up her hands. Luna's glare still bore holes into her head, but she seemed at least somewhat satisfied with her answer because she turned back to work on the food supply list. ''But...'' Clarke began, and that had caused Luna to whip her head around quicker than Lexa would've if she spotted prey in the forests, ''... don't you think that trying to recover our memories would be slightly more important than... this?''
Luna almost scoffed, and nearly threw the graphite down again. Pressed her hands against the counter lazily; eyed Clarke in anger. ''Our survival trumps our memories, Clarke. We have our priorities; yours is in the past, mine is for our future.''
When Clarke spoke again, she couldn't keep the exasperation out of her tone. ''What's the future if you don't know anything of the past? If you know nothing of what you've done wrong?'' And this Luna flickered her eyes sideways from Clarke as if deliberately ignoring her, and that had flared up her anger even more. ''Then you're just doing what's wrong over and over again, without even knowing it. Doing shit that you've done before that you don't need to do. Starting all over when you don't even need to!'' Clarke said, exasperated.
''But we do need to, Clarke,'' Luna snapped back, and that had caused her to visibly recoil. ''You live your life which your recovery of memories is eventual. In your eyes, it will—and must—happen. Have you ever thought of what will happen if we never recover our memories?'' And at this, Clarke exhaled and ran her fingers through her hair, and Luna kept her gaze stone, ''So if you'd stop lying to yourself with whatever trivial hope you have of getting your memories back, then help me.''
''I live my life where recovering our memories are eventual because I'm actively trying to find it,'' Clarke said. ''Because we're seeking for clues to our past—because we're making actual progress, and that will lead to something, no matter how little it is. You don't see me trying to live a life that isn't mine.'' she snapped—and as quickly as she'd said the words, she regretted it.
God, what did she just say?
But at that, Luna basically ignored her. And this Clarke stifled a frustrated sigh, and her eyes flickered away to the windows. Exhaled; tried to forget about the words that had exited her mouth.
The words had come out harsh; harsher than she'd intended. Even if Luna didn't seem to care much for the pasts, it wasn't as if she was trying to erase everything of who they once were. All Luna was doing was she wanted to survive more than she wanted her memories. And this, Clarke felt slightly sickened at herself. Why did she just say that?
God. And if she was being honest—all of them were living lives that weren't completely theirs, because, well, their memoryless selves had to be different from their memory selves. Just because Luna took that a little farther didn't mean she was living a life that wasn't hers because as far as they knew now, they were living the only lives they knew to have.
And just because didn't want to think about her past life, thought that survival was more important instead; didn't mean that she didn't want it.
Clarke exhaled, again, and her eyes returned to Luna, who had cast her eyes upwards and away to the side. She felt a familiar pang resonate in her heart. It was always there, whenever she looked at anything—the tug of a memory, the inkling of something that once was but she couldn't just reach—and although it had first become shocking, then grating, it had soon settled into a bundle of wistfulness and pining for something she didn't know once was.
Finally, Luna turned back to Clarke, and once their eyes met again, they were different. Serious. Clarke braced herself for a comeback, but except for a hard stare from Luna, then came none.
And at this, the subsequent, involuntarily sigh came from Clarke. ''Why are you so scared about the past?'' Clarke said, her tone quiet. ''What have you got to hide, Luna?''
When Luna looked at her again, it was stony. ''I know none of my past; I wouldn't know if there were some to hide,'' she said with rue. ''But all I say is that we should fear what we do not know. For if we do not feel fear; then how does one survive?''
''Not learning about the pasts isn't not surviving,'' Clarke insisted. ''I know you know that. All we're doing is trying to garner snippets and pieces of memory; memory, which, in the long-run, will help us. So help me, Luna,'' she said, and even though it was with force, it came out quiet.
Finally, Luna sighed. ''Alright, Clarke. We will address our amnesia tonight.''
...
''Why don't you like talking about it?'' Madi asked Luna, while they were out spear-fishing. There was no malice in her tone; only curiosity. ''That?''
''I just...'' Luna attempted a sigh, but it didn't come out right, which caused a gaze of confusion from Madi. ''I usually do not think about it much, that is all,'' she admitted.
Madi nodded a few times as if she was contemplating it. And suddenly, out of the blue, she blurted out: ''A-are you scared of it?''
Luna seemed slightly taken aback. ''What?''
But if Madi heard her, she didn't seem to notice, because she rambled on. ''I-I'm scared of it,'' Madi admitted, looking up to Luna. ''Of all this. Be-because I don't wanna know what made this place... this,'' she said, making exaggerated hand gestures at her surroundings which made Luna tilt her head in curiosity. ''—'cause something bad's happened, and I-I don't know if I wanna know what bad thing made this place what it is.''
Then, at Luna's confusion, Madi had faltered. Placed her hands down, and almost seemed to slump, slightly. Quieter, she said: ''But we gotta. Cause it's our memories too that's with it, and—'' and at this, she gave a toothy smile, ''-and I wanna remember you.''
Luna had felt oddly touched with this statement. So with a firm nod, she said: ''I want to remember about you, too,'' and when Madi beamed, she let that warm feeling reside in her heart. ''So we must find ways to remember,'' she said firmly, and Madi seemed to beam even more.
Then, Luna extended a hand. ''Would you like to help me?''
Madi's grin was wider than ever. ''Yes!''
...
''We should talk about our amnesia,'' Luna said, clearing her throat. She had seemed awkward; or at least, as awkward as Luna could've been, with her being Luna and all.
Seriously, Madi did not ever imagine the words 'amnesia' and 'talk about' strung in the same sentence together on Luna's lips, unless of course, it was something about DON'T TALK ABOUT AMNESIA and all that. But Luna was talking about their amnesia, NOT addressing it in a disdainful or negative way (which really was a surprise to be honest), and Madi did have to admit, it did surprise her—but in a good way, because it reminded her of her and Luna's conversation while they spear-fished, and it said that it was REAL, that everything she said was true and to her heart.
''We have to,'' Clarke insisted, looking back from Luna to Lexa as if they were in some silent agreement, which had made Madi a bit annoyed because if they did that, they could've at least involved her, right? After all, what was one more to the squad? Taking a breath, Clarke had looked around them all while being very serious. ''It's about time.''
Lexa seemed to ease slightly into her chair, leaning back a little. It had seemed a bit uncomfortable, with the back end of the chair being very worn out and all, and that probably portrayed Lexa's entire stance on this conversation pretty well. ''Where would we like to begin?'' she had said, clearing her throat, which kind of sounded like she had quite a lot of opinions on the subject but wanted to remain neutral for the time being for now.
Clarke sounded like she was swallowing. ''... from the start, right?'' she said, and that sounded pretty unlike Clarke. And clearing her throat, sitting up, she said again but with more conviction this time, like she wanted everyone to listen: ''Beginning from when we woke up in the abode.''
Long story short, they had gone through everything that had happened since then—from the waking up to the hunting and all—until everything was basically recapped and they all looked around each other for responses.
And Madi, of course, was just as invisible as ever.
Finally, it was Lexa who spoke first. Clearing her throat, and sitting up a bit, she said: ''I believe that our amnesia is a definite hindrance to our lives. There is nothing positive that can be taken out of it. There is no use in postponing it or forgetting about it—'' and this Lexa's lips quirked on the edges, which Madi definitely saw, ''—thus I believe, the faster we can recover our memories, the better.''
Clarke nodded along with her, and Luna had nodded along too, after a few moments after Clarke began nodding. Finally, after the nodding was done, Lexa had cleared her throat and spoke again.
''I propose searches. Rummages; daily, ever-changing. Thus, we can garner parts of our memory; and therefore help us in our endeavour that will, hopefully, lead us into reconciling with our pasts. Notebooks, though helpful, will not be enough.''
Clarke cleared her throat immediately Lexa was finished. Shifting her weight around, looking from Lexa to Luna—but Madi could see that she was focusing on Luna in particular—she said: ''Sounds like a good idea.''
Luna pursued her lips but nodded. And now was when Madi decided that she wanted to stay less invisible now. ''How long's it gonna take until we get 'em back?'' Madi whined, looking from Lexa to Clarke.
The edges of Lexa's lips quirked in the slightest. Meeting Madi's eyes, she said: ''Hopefully? Not long.''