Memory of an Inevitability

Ember awoke with a start. She felt cold--numbingly cold. She sat up with a gasp, water sloshing around her waist due to her sudden movement. 

Water? She looked down to find that she was sitting waist-deep in a pond. How did she get there? She got to her feet and looked around, trying to ignore the way her dripping wet clothes made her shiver whenever there was a slight breeze.

Ember didn't recognize her surroundings at all. She was in a small, murky pond that was covered in moss and surrounded by rotting logs and tangled weeds. She was still in a forest, but instead of the familiar conifers there were quaking aspen and birch trees. And something about the whole place seemed off. 

Ember waded over to the edge of the pond and climbed out onto dry land. It was there that she first saw what she had originally missed: a small, unassuming wooden shack hidden in a grove of trees. 

A pang shot through her head as she remembered. She remembered that shack. She remembered seeing a figure lift up his hands. She remembered watching in horror as flames shot from his hands, engulfing the little shack in seconds. 

But how could this be? Here the shack stood, completely unscathed. Not a single mark charred the rough wood. Could she have remembered wrong?

She frowned and folded her arms. Ember shivered, although whether it was from the cold or from the ominous feeling creeping up her chest, she couldn't tell. There was something that nagged at her, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

And then she realized what was bothering her. Despite being deep in the woods in the middle of the day, there was not a single note of birdsong. The silence bore on her, making her antsy.

"There you are!"

Ember nearly jumped out of her soaked clothes at the warm voice that cut through the silence. She whirled to get a look at the speaker and almost tumbled back into the pond in shock. 

The figure that approached her was similar to that of a large dog, standing nearly as tall as her chest. It was lithe and lean, and instead of fur it had smoky tendrils of gold trailing behind it. Its eyes were a golden brown that looked both intelligent and intimidating. 

The otherworldly dog padded up to her. "Mistress, I was looking everywhere for you! He comes--you must flee!"  

She stared, not sure she had heard it right. "Mistress? I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person."

The look of sorrow that overcame the dog's face nearly broke her heart, although she wasn't sure why. "Don't tell me you've forgotten?"

A small part of her deep within her chest cried out, but when she tried to understand it, she came up blank. "I'm sorry. I--"

She was interrupted by a grating, mocking male voice from behind her. "Well if it isn't the great Mage herself! Were you going for a swim in this weather?" 

Ember whipped around to see a dark, foreboding figure come out from behind the shack. The man, with his dark, rugged hair and steely eyes, looked chillingly familiar. 

The dog moaned. "It is too late, Mistress! We have lost our chance to flee!" 

The man snarled. "Do me a favor and tell your Golden Hound to shut up." 

Ember felt her blood start to boil at the man's comment at the same time that the dog began a low growl. "Permission to tear out his throat, Mistress?" the dog hissed.

Ember opened her mouth to answer, but was once again interrupted by the dark man. "Spare me the theatrics, Hound. We all know you won't follow through with your threat, not with the life of your 'Mistress' on the line."

A chill ran down Ember's back as she realized he was referring to her. She looked over at the dog, who still looked angry, but was now slightly subdued. 

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What do you want with me?" 

To her surprise, he threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, aren't you the hilarious one! Did you think feigning ignorance would spare you my wrath?" 

"I'm not feigning ignorance," Ember began to say, but she stopped when she saw the dog shaking its head. 

"It is not wise, Mistress," the dog whispered. 

In a flash, the man was in front of her without having seemed to move at all. Ember took a startled step back as he studied her face. 

"Either you are a marvelous actress," the man mused, "or you truly do not know me." He placed a hand on his chin. "Either way, it seems we must remedy your lapse in memory." 

He turned to the shack, lifting his hands. Ember's heart lurched. Flames shot from his hands, engulfing the little shack in seconds. 

"No!" The protest leaped from her chest, and with it came a burst of power. A gust of wind whipped around her, drying her clothes and flinging the man several feet away. Rage engulfed her, twisting the air round and round in a miniature cyclone. 

"Mistress!" The dog leaped, cutting through the raging wind to slam into her chest, knocking her back into the pond. Immediately both the rage and the windstorm ceased, leaving the air eerily still and the shack in a charred pile of windswept debris. Ember sat in the pond, once again dripping wet, the dog beside her with a worried look in its eyes. 

"Are you yourself?" the dog asked. 

Ember looked down at her hands as she realized what she had done. "I... I have no idea."

The destruction of the shack felt like a small part of her had been decimated, although she wasn't clear exactly what. 

The man stood, his throat bulging with untold wrath. "How dare you!" He lifted his hand and held his palm out in her direction. 

Suddenly, Ember knew his name, although she still had no memory of him. "Begone, Aodhan," she said with an authority she didn't remember having. "You are not welcome here."

As his name left her lips he staggered back, as if hit by an unseen, physical blow. He snarled, looking as if he wanted to stay and say more, but instead he disappeared. 

The dog looked on her in awe. "You have learned his true name! Have you remembered me and your true nature as well?" 

Ember pressed her fingers to her temples as she was besieged by a massive headache. She struggled to her feet and staggered out of the pond. "I don't feel so good." 

"It is no wonder, what with your Spirit Home destroyed like that," the dog said as it came out of the pond behind her. 

"My... Spirit Home?" Ember stumbled and fell to her knees. The world spun around her like a carousel. 

The dog looked like a golden blur in front of her face. "Do not fear, Mistress," said the dog, its voice taking on a slight echo. "I will rebuild it so you may return as soon as possible." 

As the world went black, Ember could only whisper, "Thank you, Arienh." And then, nothing.