"Mae g'ovannen, hiril vuin, daughter heir to the golden wood,"

::::::::::

     A candle illuminated a murky, dark window, the window of a child's room right across the way. A little girl pouted as her mother moved away from the lit wax, voicing something I couldn't hear. But I could guess. Probably begging her mother to tell her a story, or to assure her that the fiery monsters wouldn't maul her in the night. Maybe even begging for a little bit more of spongy cake--

My stomach growled.

I tensed, shoulders bunching tight as I winced up at the creaky ceiling. Nobody stirred in the level above and I couldn't see anybody moving through the dimly lit slits of wood. My shoulders slowly lost some of their tension and I allowed myself to gaze around.

Some storage room this was. What kind of storage room didn't hold cheeses and breads and meats? Apparently this one. It only held old documents and extra writing desks and quills. So unless I wanted to nibble on some paper, I'd have to risk my stomach rumbling the man who owned the place awake. I almost considered it.

Yet I couldn't eat, at least not a lot. Otherwise I risked strengthening whatever supernatural power in me that liked showing whenever my emotions spiked. Darned thing. It was like a headache that kept turning up.

I sighed--quietly--and nestled myself into a more comfortable position beside an overturned desk. The only thing I found as a blanket was--whoopi--my own cloak. At least the floor wasn't rocky--like the place I stayed in last night, and at least it wasn't too cold. Fall had set in only a... was it several weeks earlier? Or was it only a couple months?

I furrowed my brows and bit my tongue. I couldn't remember.

I couldn't remember.

The darkness receded a little as light leaked from my palms--I clenched them closed.

What... what had I even done two months ago? Where was I then?

I couldn't remember.

Five weeks ago I was running from a thieves' den but anything before that faded into... nothing. Into mist. Like a figure being swallowed by mountain fog, my memory was disappearing.

I cursed, looking down at the smeared ink on my wrist. It was getting worse. Before, I could remember up to six months, and then to four months and now... two months? Anything before that was little more than a blur.

Frantically, vainly, I tried conjuring up where I was a year ago. But nothing. Not even a hint. No remembered taste of food, no vision of a landscape or sound of a voice, no remembered feeling of a breeze or smell of a campfire. Nothing.

Shivering slightly, I knew I was going to have to do something. Sooner or later, I'd return to somewhere I had forgotten I wasn't supposed to go back to. Or forget to be careful around a certain town that was infested by orcs--there were a lot of those. I have to do something about it--

My stomach growled again.

I silently groaned and refrained from shushing it.

What good are stomachs if they get you caught sleeping in a place you're not supposed to be?

It growled once more—my blood chilled and my hairs rose. That wasn't my stomach.

Eyes wide, I quickly held my dagger in my fist, for once thankful for the innate light that always seeped from my palms anytime an unusual shift in my emotions happened or whenever I was well-fed, even though the light was weak due to not having my strength up. I stood, balancing myself on the balls of my feet with the dagger held loosely in hand, shining my hand out like a torch—

Glowing heat buried in a dense shadow lunged at me—

I ducked underneath the monster's attack, jumped over a small wooden-chest. I knew better than to square off against an uur rauko, knew better because the wounds from one still stung—so I ran.

My unwanted light surged with a brilliantly soft light, illuminating my obtrusive path for a few seconds before it flickered down to a dull radiance. But it was enough.

I vaulted over hulking forms of various woodwork, side stepping precariously scattered papers, running to the open, dark doorway.

Forge-hot air brushed my neck, a hungry, guttural growl on the verge of a roar only brought my heart further up my throat.

Faster!

The open doorway barely registered in my mind—I ran through it—a claw raked my back, eliciting a pained groan. Stumbling, I ran down the dimly lit hall—out the wide-open front door on noodle legs that trembled—

And nearly ran into a family walking home from who knows where at this ungodly hour.

"Run!" I screamed uselessly, whirling around as the monster crashed through the store-owner's door. Its mouth of fire steaming in the cool night's air, open in readiness for the taste of flesh.

In the span of a second, I took in the family, standing petrified. Took in the father who saw me, recognition in his eyes as he saw my white hair, leaf-green eyes, pointed ears, all of me. Saw the fear when he looked at me. And I knew that if I protected them—they would not help me. And I'd be dead.

I hesitated for merely a second, but it felt more like an eternity, with the stars proclaiming their judgment without a word.

I swung my bow from off my back, notching an arrow and barely sighting before I fired. The arrowhead struck true—and bounced off the uur rauko's black, scaly plate with a clunk.

Its demonic head swung towards me, its toothless jaws snapping while a red glow emanated from its mouth. Muscles bunched in its haunched—it leaped—

And I was on the ground, the beast on me, screaming orcish murder as claws dug into my shoulders. The tingle of light flared in my palms—and I forwent all weapons and struggled with all my might, pushing my hands against the uur rauko. I let the terror in me swell.

Briefly, star light flared against its scales, illuminating the hard armor like the light of the moon—and the creature screeched. Its weight lightening as it reared in pain and I escaped from underneath it.

No sword would help me here—so I dove for my discarded dagger and rolled over onto my bleeding back as its black form came upon me—

And drove the blade into its softened temple.

The uur rauko slumped lifeless on me, its whole, hot weight squeezing the breath out of me. It rancid hot air washed over me, the smell of carrion almost making me gag. Dead, dead. Finally dead—

But the danger wasn't over.

Quickly, I struggled and pushed the corpse off me. I stood several paces away from the dead monster, pulling my dagger from the creature's head and brandishing it in front of me. Towards the family looking on.

I gulped, my dry throat scratching. Time to go, time to go.

My body shook, the dead creature responsible for that. My discovery by the people of this town because of it. I had just arrived here, I was hoping to lie low for awhile, I was hoping not to run away from danger for a few days, I was hoping—

I bit my tongue and blinked away the burning in my eyes.

It's time to go—

My bow lay by the uur rauko, the growing dark puddle stretching for the beautifully carved weapon. The weapon between me and the family.

I refused to leave without it, my only chance at salvation. The only thing, besides the bracelet around my wrist, that felt like mine. Even though it wasn't. Although the darkness obscured it, I could almost see what was inscribed on the bow's beautiful wood: Legolas Thranduilion.

   Whoever that was. I fully intended on finding the elf. If I could him, that is. He's frustratingly elusive. Maybe long ago, before my memory went hay-wire, I knew him. So, maybe he can restore my memories.

   This bow was a start to regaining my past, the only thing I know of that can help me.

The father had gathered his wife and children behind him, their eyes wide and locked on me and the monster. The father held out a sword threateningly, the moon's light softly shining on the metal. I eyed him warily; he was the only thing that would stop me from retrieving my bow.

"Gwaraith, we have committed no crime against thee. Let us go about our business." To his credit, the man raised his bearded chin, eyes cloaked by the night meeting mine.

My teeth clenched. My name is Lumornel.

But they'd never understand it, they'd never say it. No matter how much I believed it was my name. Believed, but didn't know.

I glanced at the children behind him—there must be at least five, none of them having seen twelve winters. His wife held a tiny thing in her arms, the child clutched closely to her bosom. I almost feared she'd crush it. But they all were innocent, wide eyes terrified, tears swimming in some.

I lowered my blade, but didn't dare sheathe it. This man wasn't attacking me nor was his knees trembling in the breeze.
I quickly assessed the town around us, one by one windows were being lit by burning candle wicks. Soon every pair of eyes would be spectators to the scene, drawn out by curiosity they couldn't bare not to satiate.

"If you don't want your townsmen scorning you for conversing with me, I suggest you move on." I lowered my eyes, but then forced myself to look at the man. "I wouldn't hurt you unless you hurt me. And never would I lay a hand on your children."

Of course, he'd never believe me.

The man searched me so deeply I wanted to squirm, but I held my ground. I wanted that bow.

And he sheathed his sword—

And stepped forward.

His wife gasped, taking a step forward while clutching her child close.

"Thalen—!"

Wide-eyed, I took a step back in surprise. Why did this man step toward me, instead of away? Why, now, was there no fear in his eyes?

He bowed his head before meeting my eyes, yet I saw his eyes snag on my glowing palms. "You've preserved my family this night, how can I ever repay you?"

I stared at the man. A man who wasn't wanting me dead. At the moment.

But... was he thanking me?

"I..." I closed my mouth, opened it. "I only want my bow," I asserted, sticking my chin out.

My eyes darted to the bow, then to him. Slowly, I went forward—he tensed—and I gathered the weapon.

Almost sighing at the familiar weight on my back, I stopped myself and I clenched my fists. This man couldn't help me; no one could. Even if he did, he'd turn around and sink a knife into my back. So, I turned on my heels, avoiding the pool of dark, dark blood, and started out of the town—

"Please, is there anything I can do to repay the kindness you've done for me? Anything I can provide you with for your journeying?"

I hesitated. Would I even remember this one kind thing a month from now?

"A notebook." I paused. "And an inkwell and quill."

———
Hello mellyn!!
It's be a while hasn't?

Anyways, hope you liked it.

Novaer mellyn
~phoenix~