Role

Chapter 8

At last, a healer recommended that I seek out the Lady of the Purple Lotus.
After searching Thera for her Bathhouse, I found it and was granted an
audience. I was overwhelmed with her beauty and kindness, as we discussed
the little I knew about the events leading to the loss of my memories. As
stories told of her, she has such a remarkable gift of healing that I knew
she could restore me. I told of the stored up emotions, the pain I felt
without knowing why. She told me that she would think of ways to heal me,
but I might have to come to terms with never regaining my memories. I tried
to keep a stoic face, but I left crushed inside. If the most talented healer
who has become a God could not easily do it, could it even be done?

I had heard that it is possible to regain memories slowly, but this felt like
it would of happened by now if it was going to. Then I met with someone who
said that we had probably known each other in Arial City, and without any
thought I responded that I hadn't spent much time there as a child. A memory
had returned, surely they all would start coming back now. Yet as the weeks
went on, no more came. I started to accept I might have to come to terms
with only being who I currently am.

But how could I come to terms without knowing who I was? Who was I now? An
arial training with warriors, with no direction in life? I sought comfort in
exhaustion and mindlessness, and found both in training myself. The training
felt familiar and that was comfort and pain at the same time. I found myself
forced out of training and to ground in Arial City to avoiding the attention
of a rather brutish giant. All of these faces, so much like mine yet none
knew me as that lone memory knew they wouldn't. I felt anxiety at having
time to think again, and was flustered until I decided to train with the
warriors paid to be guards. Yet as one fell, he shrieked Kinslayer. They
did not feel like my kin, they did not know me, yet they thought of me as
such? I stopped as I realized they did not deserve this and felt shame at my
ignorance. How many of my actions would be better guided if I just knew who
I had been? Or would they be worse?