A pond shimmered in the sunlight and palms swayed in the breeze. Gardens of all kinds laid out before us, and in the middle of it all sat a modest temple made of brown clay bricks which were cracking and crumbling in a few places. It was both magnificent and somehow meager in a way that made it all seem almost too good to be true.

Several people, including some children and elders, emerged from the temple as we approached. No one spoke, and I was shocked to see that they seemed to accept us without any explanation. We dismounted, Felix reaching up to lift me and Good Fellow to the ground. He immediately took our donkey from my sore arms and waved his hand in a mysterious way, and then Good Fellow regained his proper size. The donkey immediately lay down with a snuff and a wiggle of his ears, and I couldn't help but smile with relief. A young man approached with a bag of grain and offered it to the weary animal, who accepted without hesitation.

"Come, Empanda wants to meet you," Felix said with a wave at us, and we left Good Fellow with the young man and followed Felix up the crumbling steps and into the cool air of the temple. Several people watched us go. They seemed excited about us somehow, like they wanted us to stay, though they knew it was not up to them if we would be allowed to join them.

Then the temple opened up to a large room lit with torches, and there on a stone bench sat a beautiful woman. She was both young and old at the same time, with the white wispy hair of an elder and the smooth skin of a maiden who hadn't seen the harsh sun of fieldwork. She seemed to be of high birth. I noticed first a very fine necklace with intricate sigils that made me think of Felix's tattoos. To my delight, she had her own beast, a little furry, red creature with a long ringed tail and black fur on its feet and belly. It had a red and white face that resembled a raccoon, with wide ears, whiskers, and curious eyes. It was adorable. The creature sat in her lap, eyeing us curiously.

"Come," the woman said. Empanda. She was unreal, like a dream. A wise woman from out of fables and legends. And we were in her presence.

"Yes, Goddess," I said, and I lowered my head and approached to sit on my knees in front of her. How did lower class people greet someone like her? Should I prostrate myself? Mother answered my question by kneeling and pressing her face to the temple stones beneath us, and I followed her example.

"Please, you needn't humble yourself for my sake," Empanda said. "Rise and show me your faces."

We both hesitantly sat back on our knees and looked up at her. She had skin the color of sweet honey and smooth and supple lips. She wore a tunic and slacks of fine cotton spun with beautiful beadwork and a red silk robe over her shoulders with a flowing billowing hood that she had pushed away from her face. In comparison, our scorched faces, cracked lips, and rough spun clothes surely made us look pitiful in her eyes.

"What brings you to my temple?"

"We have lost everything," Mother said in a way that sounded very factual and not pleading in the slightest. I wondered how she managed such a tone when she spoke of our stark reality. "My husband, my son, both gone. Our cow and horse, our meager life taken from us along with our land, all by the hands of a trickster. We nearly lost our lives in search of you. Please don't turn us away." She lowered her head and gazed at the lady's feet. I noticed then that she wore the most beautiful white sandals with fine leather straps; even her toes were gorgeous.

"Your future will be left up to you," Empanda said. She had such a beautiful voice. Like a minstrel's though she only spoke instead of sang. "You may stay for a time, recover your strength. Then Felix can take you back to where you came from and help you get back on your feet again. Or you may choose to stay with us."

"Stay with you?" I asked, forgetting myself.

"You can become one of us, if you wish. Take a vow and forget the life you left behind."

"Would you teach us your ways?" Mother asked. "Would we have a way to support ourselves?"

"You would tend the garden or help raise our flock. We would provide you a bed to sleep on with a roof over your head and a full belly every day. You would be born anew, without any memories of your past. Is this what you would like to do?"

"We'd forget? All of it? My father, my brother? They'd be forgotten?"

Empanda nodded.

"Can we think it through, maybe discuss this together?" Mother asked, turning to look at me.

"Of course. Take your time, but do not try to leave. The desert will swallow you whole, as I'm sure you are aware."

I nodded and we stood and retreated to the entrance.

"Felix, get these two a bite to eat and some water while they deliberate," Empanda called after us, and Felix beckoned us down a hallway where they had a fine dining room complete with a nicely polished wooden table and simple wooden benches. Sunlight cascaded through a window in the stone wall. We sat and rested our poor feet while Felix gathered vegetables and fruit from their food stores stashed in a nearby pantry.

He brought the plate of food and two cups to the table. He removed his gloves to reveal his tattooed hands. With a mumbled word, he poured water into the cups from out of thin air and this time I finally glimpsed a blue light sparkling in his palm. I greedily took the cup from him and drank the magic water gladly. It tasted rather normal despite how it had been conjured, but still the water tasted sweet on my parched tongue.

"Would we learn to do that?" Mother asked as she accepted the drink.

"That and more," Felix said. "You'll have teachers like myself and Titus and Empanda herself. You will learn to heal people and make crops grow and create your own Chimaera like Citius and Empanda's Chimaera Fulgens. But you must agree to forget."

"Would we ever be allowed to leave?" I asked, thinking of how it could be a very secluded life here. But there were older children like me. A few families with young ones that I could look after. Maybe it could be a happy life.

"Some of us leave often to gather supplies," Felix said. "We always come home, sometimes with people like you." He gazed at me with a hesitant smile. "But we always guard our lives here with secrecy, choosing who we aid carefully."

"Would we be permitted to send word to my husband and son about where we went?"

Felix hesitated and then shook his head.

"They're dead anyway," I said, earning a hard look from Mother. "You know it's true! They would have sent word or money home long ago if they were alive."

Mother gazed at the plate of fruit and greens sadly. Finally she began to eat silently, and I followed suit.

After a long silence in which we ate the plate of food clean, I said, "I think we should stay, Mother. This is the best hope we have for a good future."

"Are you prepared to forget everything about your old life?" Felix asked. "You'll be like young children again, needing to be guided by us and taught all the ways of the world. You won't even remember that she's your mother, or that she's your daughter," he added, looking between us. "We'll tell you, of course. But any fond memories you have of each other would be lost."

"Would you tell her one thing for me?" Mother asked. She looked over at me with tears in her eyes. "Tell her that she's the light of my life, and I followed along with her here because she's the only thing in my life that gets me through the long days."

Felix nodded without a word.

"Tell her that I am proud to call her my mother." My voice wavered with the sudden emotions that swelled within me. "And that she has been the strong one for me when my brother and father left us. And tell her I wouldn't have agreed to forget my life if I had known she wasn't staying here too. That she would be alone without me. I couldn't be brave and follow through with this knowing she'd remember me and be alone, but I'd forget that I lost her."

Felix nodded again. "I'm glad to hear that you want to stay, and I'll be sure to remind you many times how fond of each other you were, and how protective and caring. You will be happy here, I assure you."

"Is it like dying?" I asked with a hitch in my voice.

"I don't believe so, no. More like being born anew to a life without the pain and regret of your past."

We nodded with tears streaming down our faces. Mother came around the table and took me in her warm embrace as she sat on the bench beside me. For a while, we just stayed locked together in our tight embrace. Then I felt a tingle at my feet and looked down to see that Felix was healing my bloody feet. The wounds simply melted away, and I would have been shocked if not for all the other miracles we'd witnessed.

"Thank you!"

"Of course. Let's go now."

We returned to Empanda with our hearts aching but our hopes for a brighter future brimming to the surface. When she gazed upon us and heard that we intended to stay, her bright smile graced us with a rush of hope.

We stood in front of her, and she spoke a word. I felt my memories begin to fade away, and just as I began to panic, a feeling of bliss washed over me, and I looked upon a beautiful woman I felt I should remember.

"Hello. I'm Empanda, and you are Hortensia," she said in a beautiful voice, and she gestured to me. "And you are Domitia, Hortensia's mother," she added, gesturing to a woman on my left. "And full glad am I to welcome you to our home. May you be like a child and a grandchild to me."

I looked over at the woman beside me, who looked as weary as I felt. She smiled hesitantly at me, showing slightly browned teeth, and there was a gentle touch to her face, like she still had some hope left despite how cruel life had been to her. That's when I noticed how tired my body was, like I'd been running for days to escape something. But now I felt at peace.

Then a man behind us said, "You are mother and daughter, you two, and we are all your family now. Come, let us go out and meet everyone."