Memory 3

[malignstar]

He's sitting in a tree in midday, the afternoon sun just starting to rise. His hair feels much heavier than before, longer. He can feel it all the way down his back, especially through the wispy silk top he's wearing, one that seems to offer little protection from the slight breeze that rustles the tree's leaves. It reminds him how much he detests the outfit, but he's far past caring enough to do anything about it.

His entire focus is on the young woman propped against the tree trunk, sketching idly onto a sheet of paper. She doesn't seem to notice him as she works on her drawing, some lively nature scene. Her talent is incredible, giving the impression that her subjects are moments from leaping off the page and into their next adventure. It carries a feeling of life and merriment, one which he all but drowns himself in, wishing he could extend every brush stroke into eternity. Hide there beyond his miserable existence. Yet it also feels oddly familiar, as though this isn't the first time he's witnessed this. The experience is almost ritualistic, a spiritual cleansing.

After a few more minutes, the young woman brings her hand to her mouth in a shy giggle. "You must really like art."

He looks around them, puzzled as to her sudden audience. He's sure there was nobody else here.

"I just thought after all this time, maybe my greatest fan might find the courage to speak to me. I'm sure it must be lonely being a guardian angel."

Could she be... Oh gods, she knows he's here, doesn't she? He feels heat race through him, as panic starts to build. Has she seen him? How much has she seen? He'd thought this tree had enough greenery to conceal him. Has she seen his wings? He quickly concentrates on willing them back into his flesh, visualizing them folding inward tight and tighter until they force themselves into his back and nestle beneath the flesh.

The woman's voice grows quieter, disappointed. "I know you're there. I've know for a while. I wanted to give you a chance to reveal yourself, but it's been so long." She turns toward the tree, gaze not on him per se but close enough to prove her words. "Guardian angels aren't the only ones who get lonely."

The gentle pleading in her tone gives him a pit in his stomach. Still, he makes no sound. He looks frantically to the side. There's no way he can leave without being seen. If he jumps from the tree, he can easily outrun her, as foolish as he would likely appear. He would only need to pick a direction, run far enough to lose her and then escape the usual way. But it also means he can't come back, can't ever see her again, can't experience the lightness he feels every time he sees her...

He shifts to prepare for his jump but his footing slips in his anxiety. He barely has time to register what happened before he tumbles head-first from the tree. There's the rapid sensation of the drop, followed by the jarring impact. Then everything goes dark.

He awakens to something wet against his head.

"Oh, please, be all right. I don't know what to do," a muffled voice beside him sobs.

It hurts to open his eyes and he's not even sure he wants to bother. It doesn't matter. Nothing does. It just goes on...

"I don't know what to do," the voice repeats, as something catches him from under his arms and tries to drag him backward. His body slides roughly over the grass, and there's a pained groan above him. The light pitch startles him enough to force his bleary eyes open. It's the young woman from before, straining backward in attempts to move him. His eyes snap open, as he jerks in her hold.

"You're awake!" she exclaims.

"Let go!" He tries to pull away from her, causing her to lose her grip and fall backward with a cry. He whirls around to check on her.

Thankfully, she's only landed on her backside and looks more surprised than anything. "I'm sorry, I only meant to help you."

Help him? Those words are disturbingly confusing. He can't recall the last time he's heard them. Years? Everything blends together so easily now.

He moves to get up and is instantly attacked by a spasm of pain in his right leg. "Ahhh!"

The young woman hurries to her feet. "Don't! I think you broke something."

He freezes. Broke something? How could he have been so foolish? There's no way he can escape now.

She drops beside him. "I'm sorry, this is my fault. Please let me help you. My home isn't too far away from here. You could wait there while I search for a healer."

Madness. There isn't so much as a wise woman for miles. The entire reason he had sought out this place was its remoteness. Discovering the young woman had been a pleasant surprise, though her bringing up searching for a healer herself is his first indication that she's been living here alone.

He runs a hand down his sore leg, feeling the stiffness. "You do not need to do that." Even as he says it, he know there's little he can do to stop her. Not without help. Help that would certainly mean the young woman's death. He can't do that. He can't lose her too.

"I'm not going to leave you here," she says firmly, her gaze resolute.

He has no response to that. There isn't anything he can say.

"My name is Dani." Her hand falls lightly over his, as his fingers twitch anxiously beneath her palm. It's so warm. He hadn't thought he could even register such warmth anymore.

"Dani?"

She nods. "Mhmm. Now, I need you to hold still so we can get you someplace warm. If you let me help you, I can show you more of my sketches since you seem to enjoy them so much."

His cheeks heat with a flush.

"No more pulling away, all right?" She gets up and moves back behind him to pick him up under the arms again.

"... Tavores."

"Pardon?"

"My name... is Tavores."

He waits for any reaction. It's hardly a common name. But it's been decades and he's leagues away from his kingdom (his what?). If anyone even still remembered it.

Dani peers down at him with a smile that's pure fondness and absolutely zero recognition. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Tavores."

Despite everything, he feels the tension melt away from his body. "And you... Dani."