Swords and Staffs

25. Memories and Monsters

Arlene:

The fire crackled continuously as I cleansed and stitched Dante's wounded leg. The last of the rabbit meat cooked on the fire, and the embers fluttered up into the ebony-black cloud of smoke that loomed above us. Both horses were settled down in the corner of the cave, comfortably lying down next to each other, Majesty's head resting on Onyx's back. As they relaxed, they both munched on some apple's we had given them earlier.

"Ouch!" Dante groaned.

"Don't exaggerate," I laughed, "I've barely touched you!" he eyed me with a sincere facial expression.

"I'm not exaggerating." Dante declared.

"Look, I've barely practised First Aid before, so I suppose you will have to manage with my lack of experience."

"I guess you will have to do," Dante sniggered.

Cleaning up the last of Dante's wound, I peered around the illuminated cave and spotted his guitar sitting in the corner.

"Really? You bought your guitar with you?" I shook my head in disbelief.

Dante noticed my glance. After, I tightened the last stitch, he shrugged and only just managed to stand up on his own. He then limped over to his sleeping bag and nestled down into it with his deflated pillow.

"A decent musician never parts with his instrument."

"Exactly how talented is your version of decent then?" I mused.

"If I were to rate myself, I'd give myself a well-deserved eight out of ten."

I was surprised. An eight. He was either really confident, or really talented. However, I wasn't sure which one I was leaning towards the most.

"Really?" I giggled.

"Yes, I consider myself a gifted musician," he smirked, enlightened by his choice of words.

"Well then, Mr 'eight out of ten', play me something," I stated.

I was curious to see if his skills were actually gifted, or he was just a little self-absorbed. Neither, I thought, would surprise me.

"Let's see how you really play."

I snatched his guitar and tossed it to him. The instrument landed in his lap, making Dante flinch and his eyes to open wide in surprise.

"Ok then. However, it is under one condition. If you like how I play, I get the extra rabbit meat, if you don't, then you get it. Alright?"

"Deal," we shook hands officially and Dante grasped the neck of his guitar. He plucked the strings a little before he began, adjusting it by twisting the different tuning pegs.

After having finished preparation, Dante began strumming at the strings of his guitar producing a melodious tune that echoed throughout the stone walls of the cave.

It seemed to last forever.

As soon as I began to realise how beautiful it actually was, it had stopped and all I had was a blurred memory to remember it by.

Dante looked at me as he played the last note. I noticed his eyes looked glassy and his face was full of emotion. I could tell that he noticed my enjoyment throughout the melody. He smiled, placing his guitar back down onto the stone floor.

"I used to play that tune for Muriel all the time..." Dante mumbled his eyes flickering from the floor and back to eye contact.

"Playing it, just now, reminded me of her. Of when we lived together in that cabin in the forest. It reminded me of how beautiful her singing was. Like an angel. In fact, this was the song I wrote for her on our wedding day. My beautiful wife..." he remained seated and sighed, gazing at the cave wall in awe of memory.

"Oh, sorry," I apologised, thinking that I had awoken an unintentional sadness. I didn't wish to ruin the mood for we were having such a wonderful conversation before.

"Oh, no need to apologise, I'm happy Arlene. You have aided me in remembering such terrific memories. The type of memories I can recreate once we are together again. You need not think that I am unhappy for I know that I am going to get her back." Dante reassured, chewing the last piece of rabbit that he had in his mouth

"I am grateful that you have volunteered to travel all this way to help me, Arlene. Even if you do get something in return," Dante replied, wrapping his sleeping bag around him and curling up on the rocky floor like a caterpillar.

"You're welcome Dante. I'm also glad that Alistair is to return. Hopefully, we both get what we want," I answered snuggling down into my sleeping bag too and lying to down next to the fire to get some rest.

"Goodnight, Dante."

"Goodnight, Arlene."

Dante:

It was bright and early in the morning when I heard murmurs coming from somewhere in the cave. I instantly sat up from my sleeping position and observed the cave carefully.

Nothing.

I wondered, what could be making that noise? Before I had time to question anything, I heard someone shout a name incredibly loud.

"No! Alistair!"

Alistair? The name rang a bell. I thought, hadn't I heard that name before somewhere? Perhaps he was someone from the trading market, back at home. Or one of the people who resided at the local Mournstead Inn, where Arlene and I stayed. No, it couldn't be. I didn't recall knowing anyone named Alistair. However, I knew I had heard it before. But, from where? That was the question.

Alistair...Alistair...Alistair. Oh, yes, Alistair! Wasn't that the name of Arlene's past lover? Yes, it was, but that could only mean that... Arlene was yelling his name?

I turned my head towards the resting mage. Sleeping.

"Psst..." I whispered.

"Arlene..." I whispered again.

No answer.

She was definitely asleep.

"No! Please, father! Please don't hurt him!" she screamed again.

What in Aaldin's name was going on here? She said -and I quote- 'Please, father, please don't hurt him'. What was that supposed to mean? Whose father was hurting who? And why? What absurd things were in this woman's past? I wasn't certain if I actually wanted to know. Had I made the right decision by taking this woman on my travels? I now wasn't so sure.

I was sat in my sleeping bag wondering what was going on and also trying to decide whether to go back to sleep for a while or confront her about it.

If these horrific things were really in her past, then perhaps I had finally found someone who had a past that was just as traumatic as mine (not that it was a good thing). I had to see if she was ok, right?

As I was still deciding, an ear-piercing scream disturbed my thoughts. I stood up immediately, startled, and ran to Arlene's side.

I looked at her sweet, innocent face to discover that she had been crying in her sleep. I remained silent as she spoke again.

"You killed him, father. He's gone. You monster." She mumbled sorrowfully; eyes still sealed shut but tears seeping through the cracks of her eyelids.

"Your father killed him?" I whispered in utter shock, skin turning pale as paper.

What had I just listened to? Was it a murder story? Could this actually have been a certain event in this woman's life? If so, why, and how?

I was horrified, yet, intrigued to discover more. I had to wake her up. Both to get ready to continue the journey and to figure out what was going on in this troubled lady's mind.

How could she not tell me this!? I understand that she did tell me that she had lost him suddenly. But to leave out the whole 'murdered by my father' part was a little extreme considering how much I had told her about me losing Muriel. She didn't have to speak about it if she didn't want to, but I did consider it a little rude since we had bonded so much during this short space of time.