For the first few hours Bernard took in everything.
Everything he could remember consisted of was little life he had in the capitol
of Lidarion, the trip to Border wood keep and the last three years in the home
that was his world. Squints had two horses pulling a small covered wagon, which
held their things and something large, wrapped in blankets. Bernard wanted to
ask about it more than he wanted to ask about the conversation he had overheard
the night before, but the beauty of spring had him in its grip and so he pushed
aside his concerns to enjoy the sights and sounds of the seasons as they
traveled north.
By the afternoon Squints hadn’t said much, mostly giving him
the names of flowers, animals, rivers, lakes, hills and far off mountains. They
had stopped for lunch in a clearing and had unfortunately scared off some deer,
they didn’t run far and stuck to the farthest edge of the clearing eating from
a field of beautiful yellow flowers. There was a river a few hundred feet away
from the road. Bernard had gone over to fill their water skins but sat for
nearly an hour just listening to the river. He had stayed still long enough
that the deer chanced coming closer to pick at some small berry bushes. It was
peaceful in a way that he had no memory of.
Back on the kart they followed the road which pretty closely
followed the river. “My father used to bring me to this river when I was
younger. We’d spend summers out here away from civilization.”
Bernard looked at
Squints who continued sharing his memory. “At the time I just wanted to get
back to my books, it’s a cruel irony that as an adult I dream of the summers I
spent here.”
Bernard had no memory of his childhood or his father. He was
both sad for and jealous of Squints. “I think your father may have known he was
giving you a gift you wouldn’t know how to appreciate until you were old enough
to understand what you had received.”
Squints looked at Bernard with curiosity. “Are you talking
about the initial experience or the memory?” He asked.
Bernard shrugged his shoulders. “Aren’t they both just love
in different forms?” He asked.
Squints smiled. “That they are.” He confirmed.
The rushing river and the creaking wheels of the wagon filled
the silence. They hit a divot in the road and the large object wrapped in
blankets shifted in the cart, knocking against the wooden wall of the cart.
“What happened to my memory?” Bernard asked quickly. As if
he was worried he might lose his courage half way through the question.
Squints smiled a little. “How much of our conversation did
you overhear last night?” He asked.
Bernard looked at a tree as they passed. “My sister is worried
about things ‘going back to the way they were before’” He answered in question.
Squints nodded. “Indeed she is.” He confirmed.
Bernard looked at Squints. “How were they before? What is it
that I can’t remember and why can’t I remember it?” He pleaded.
Squints sighed heavily. “The simple answers are, not good, a
lot, because we made a mistake.”
Bernard shook his head. “I didn’t come on this trip for
simple answers Squints.”
Squints nodded. “I know. You want the whole truth.”
Bernard nodded resolutely. “I do.”
Squints stared him down. “Even if it changes everything you
know about everyone you love, including yourself?” He asked.
Bernard nodded. “Squints, I don’t actually know much of
anything about anyone, especially myself.”
Squints sighed again. “That’s a fair point.” There was
silence again for a moment as he considered where exactly to start his
narrative. “I guess the most important place to start would be the end of the
Machine Wars, six years ago.”
Bernard was instantly lost. “Machine Wars? No one has ever
said anything about a war less than a decade ago.”
Squints nodded “Because we made sure you would never hear of
it, at least, not until you were ready.”
Bernard looked at the road ahead. “So what does this war
have to do with my missing memory?” He asked.
Squints shook his head. “The war has almost nothing to do
with your memory loss. The war was how Trent ended up coming home to Lidarion
after a long fifteen year absence.”
Bernard did the math in his head. “That’s over half his
life.”
Squints nodded. “Generally that’s the point of banishment.”
He offered. “How about I start from the Beginning?” He offered.
Bernard nodded. “Please.”
