Chapter 12

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Why is he unwilling to talk to me about my family? I let the conversation stop since he wasn't in the mood to reveal more. I try to recall some of my childhood. Big dresses, skirts always dirty and torn. Huge rooms and hidden passageways to play in. And Starlight! We rode him everywhere including in the house that wasn't a house... that's all I've been able to remember for a long time.

My eyes drift closed, with Goddess' steady swaying my body relaxes. "Sometimes if I am completely calm and clear of thought a memory will come. Is that normal?" I ask even though I'm not sure I should be sharing this information with him. "My siblings haven't been able to do that." I add.

He doesn't respond. I use his disinterest to detach and hope a memory will come. After some time of feeling the horses' careful movements throughout the cave a dim vision comes to me.


A boy is with me, with corn silk hair and a little older. He throws a sandwich at me and I run away squealing with delight. I slide easily under a chair to dodge other items of food. Rough but tender hands scoop me up, warmth and familiarity flood through me, warm amber eyes peer down at me with a smile.

The memory fades, leaving me smiling. I've had that one a few times, or similar. None of the memories are the same moment nor do they follow a linear time.

My mind then travels to Sutle. There is still the gap of how we got there, were we kidnapped, fleeing? I know that we arrived in Sutle in a wagon pulled by Starlight with Zavier. The records I stole from Lord Salvatore said little else in the time of our arrival.

"What did you see?" comes Ryen's voice lacking any emotion.

I startle, then settle back down. "Why should I tell you?" I sneer, wishing very much that I could just kick my heels into Goddess to flee him for a moment. Alas that cannot happen.

"The ability to recall things, people, places isn't unusual." He says lazily.

"None of us can remember our lives." I say quietly. "Do you know what that's like? Can you please tell me something about myself?" I beg.

"What difference would knowing your past make? Would it change who you have become?"

"I should think not, but it would be useful to find out where I'm going and who I am supposed to be."

He doesn't answer.

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