Let’s Not [Obliterate]

 

One day, only a week away from the next settlement, Dema and Theora were walking through a forest by a cliff. Suddenly, Theora stopped walking, and Dema trailed to a halt just a moment later.

“Damn, that’s kinda weird,” Dema said, scratching through her hair, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“Yes,” Theora replied. “I think we forgot something.” She looked around the lush forest. Poison ivy flanked the path, wild strawberries interspersed the leaves, and elderberry bushes overreached it all. The trees had white bark and thin autumn leaves, though the occasional thick oak stood between them.

“Yeah! I feel the same. There’s something on, like, the edge of my big brain, and I can’t reach it!”

Theora nodded, and pressed her eyes shut. “I think it was very important. We need to remember.”

Birds sang in the canopies, and soft sizzling resounded from above as the breeze combed through the branches.

None of this rang a bell. None of it made her remember the very important thing she forgot.

“We should go back to where we came from,” Theora suggested. “Maybe it will come to us when we do.”

“Sure! Let’s go remember. There ain’t no escape!”

They walked for about five minutes, very attentively, soaking in every sound, every detail, every scent around them. Something they forgot… What could they have possibly forgotten? They were on their way to Hallmark, to find the Fragments of Time. And, whenever possible, they’d make little detours to maybe find an opportunity for Dema to use her upgrade. There was nothing else, right? What could they have forgotten?

It was then that she heard a whimper in the bushes.

“What’s that?” Theora asked, but Dema was already jumping past her towards the origin of the noise, just hopping through the poison ivy with light steps and a grin on her face. A few steps in, she slowed down.

“Why, hello! Who do we have here!” she called out and the whimpers grew stronger.

Coming to a halt between two trees, right in front of a large elder brush, Dema crouched down. “Damn, you hurt?” she asked, reached into the thicket, and pulled out a small boy. She held him up like a trophy. “Gotcha!”

The boy desperately tried to wiggle himself out of her hands, but she held him firm, although rather gently. “Wait, wait! I’m gonna let you down in a second. Just carrying you back to the path! Does anything hurt?”

He stopped struggling, but didn’t answer, just staring at Dema wide-eyed. She inspected him for a few seconds, then frowned. “Oh dang,” she let out. “You’re cursed. Big time cursed!” She turned around to Theora, smiling. “The boy’s got the Mindslip!”

Then, she did as she’d promised, carrying him over the ivy, and plopped him back on his feet, a few paces away from Theora. He looked rattled, his clothes being in a bad shape with many tears running through them, and some small hints of blood from cuts he’d received. His dark hair was tousled. Big, hazel eyes like a deer about to run off, freckles all over his brown skin, and thin, and small. 

“What’s your name?” Theora asked, closing the distance towards him and crouching down. “I’m Theora.”

“Tras,” he said, his eyes filling with tears.

“And how old are you?”

He held up five fingers. Theora’s heart sank. So young.

“You’re cursed!” Dema chirped again. “Did you know?”

The boy’s attention snapped to her, and after a moment, he nodded.

“We were here a moment ago,” Theora told him. “I’m sorry we forgot you. We came back as soon as we remembered.”

Tras swallowed, and nodded again. “Curse,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Theora confirmed. “It’s alright, because we have you now. How did you get here? Where is your family?”

Tras looked visibly shaken. He almost started crying again, but managed to keep it as a wobble of his lower lip, corners of his mouth torn down, lips pressed together. Meanwhile, he lifted his hand and pointed to the top of the cliff above them.

“You fell down?” Theora asked, and he nodded.

Immediately, she glanced over his body. He didn’t seem to have trouble standing on his feet, and other than a few rather shallow cuts and bruises, there were no swellings or other issues apparent from his exterior. Her gaze went back to the giant elder bush, with countless leaves fallen from surrounding trees all over it. That must have softened his fall and saved him.

“Let’s get you back!” Dema said, and he jerked up on the sudden sound of the cheery voice. “Gonna get you back to your… Well. Parents? You have a mom?”

He nodded.

“Mom it is! We’re gonna find your mommy.”

At that, he shook his head, and made a step back. “But I wanted to see the wolves.”

Theora frowned. “The wolves?”

“They said the wolves got Alpa. So I wanted to look for the wolves.”

“Who’s Alpa?”

“My sheep friend.”

“And that’s why you left your home?” Theora asked. Realising that he might be dehydrated, she started to rummage in her clothes to fetch her things. Maybe he’d calm down with a strawberry leaf tea.

And she could give him some water from her endless vial right now.

Again, he nodded. “Got lost. Can’t find back. Can’t find the wolves. Fell down.”

“I don’t think the wolves have got Alpa anymore!” Dema cheered. “I think Alpa, like, went on a big journey, and is probably having fun somewhere on the other side of the planet.” 

Theora wasn’t sure if she could agree with that. ‘The wolves got Alpa’ likely meant that this sheep was dead. But because of the euphemism, he had run away, and was now here. She really wanted to tell him the truth.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I think they must have eaten Alpa.”

She couldn’t get herself to lie to a child.

Neither of those offerings convinced Tras. He seemed taken aback a little, but still determined. “Can you bring me to the wolves?”

At that, Dema gave Theora a questioning gaze. Was Dema in on this? Would she actually bring that child to the wolves?

There were wolves in the surroundings. That much, Theora knew. At least one pack, because she could hear them howl at night.

“You have the Mindslip,” Theora began. “If we don’t bring you home as soon as we can, we might forget about you, and you could get lost again or be hurt. I think we should bring you to your family first. Is that alright with you? Don’t you miss them?”

Tras seemed conflicted for a moment, and wiped a tear out of his eye. “I want to see mommy,” he said. 

With that, Dema jumped in the air, punching up with one fist. “Yeah! Let’s get you to mommy!” she yelled, and then made off in a random direction, completely ignoring the fact that Theora was still setting up to make tea. After a few steps, she apparently realised she had no idea where she was going. “Dang! Lil’ rabbit! Where’s his mommy?”

Where was his mommy? Theora mused about their current surroundings. If he’d fallen from that cliff, his family was likely up there, on the other side. Maybe he’d remember the way home once they got him back up.

So, she pointed to the path they came from, where she remembered a staircase in the stones leading up.

“Why, look at that, Tras! She’s already found her.”

Meanwhile, the boy was looking at Theora’s procedure with a certain amount of interest — she was in the process of collecting dry wood and kindle. “Dema, can you look for things to eat?” she asked.

“Sure!”

A few minutes passed. Theora kindled the fire, added the water from her endless bottle, and brought it to a boil. She was very focused on her task, so she was rather surprised when a voice echoed out to her suddenly.

“Will you forget me too?” a boy asked her.

Theora looked at him. She blinked a few times. Scrubbed her eyes. Who was that? Why was he here?

And, why was she making tea? Dema was nowhere to be seen. That’s right, she’d sent Dema to gather food, for some reason. That was suspicious, because neither of them ate a lot.

“What’s your name?” she asked the boy.

“Tras,” he said.

And then, it all flooded back to her, and she put down the cup half-filled with wild strawberry leaves. She took a deep breath.

“Yes,” Theora said. “We will forget you many times.” She looked into his eyes with her calm gaze, bearing deep into them to make sure he’d feel the gravity of her next words. “But, without fail, we will always remember you.” She pointed at her temple. “Engraved,” she said. “We will always recall.”