I'm going to die, huh? Memor didn't react to Spyro's proclamation, he stayed quiet waiting for Spyro to expound on his statement.
Seeing there was no response, Spyro sighed and continued."It's my fault really, I pulled some strings I shouldn't have."
"I didn't take you for the responsible type."Memor finally spoke sarcastically.
Spyro turned on the chair so he could see Memor by looking at his side, then he put on a smile, the disturbing smile he always put on when he spoke to Memor."Oh, I didn't apologize, this is out of courtesy for the trick your uncle played during our interrogation. Are you listening, Mr. Toy Maker."
Spyro brought up his hand and waved his fingers as if it was a snake slithering in the sand. He gazed into Memor's eyes, but Memor didn't feel like he was staring at him, it was as if Spyro could see Ceres's figure in his eyes.
Spyro's gaze shifted to Memor and said,"Don't be surprised, he practically advertised during the interview…"
Is this what you wanted Uncle Ceres? It's just like he said, you're literally slamming the fact that you're in my head at his face.
'...'
"...Anyhow, you have until the 190th to prepare."Spyro said, then his figure rippled and disappeared.
Memor sat emotionlessly on his bed, watching the burning candle as he pondered.
So what're you going to do?
'...'
At least say something, if he finds out about me being a half-blood then it won't only be my head, but yours too.
'I have a plan.'
Oh really, may I know of such plans. Memor thought sarcastically.
'You don't deserve to know. Do I need to revoke your privileges?'
Memor sat silently unable to retort, his insistence on having Ceres share with him his plans have ended in a failure. Standing up, Memor walked to the candle, blew it out, then he went outside with the bucket in his wardrobe and got some water.
Going to his backyard, Memor began cooking, he dumped a fair amount of water into the pot and went to the cupboards to take out some ingredients.
He opened the cupboard, it was full of potatoes, onions, and other vegetables. He had gotten used to this life, whenever food was scarce, Uncle Ceres would sightlessly dump a bunch of vegetation into his backyard. Whatever Ceres sent was whatever Memor got, he didn't complain, more like he couldn't complain.
Setting up the pot, Memor realized he hadn't taken the tinder box from inside to light a fire, he went around the house, retrieved the tinder box from his desk drawer and returned to his backyard, carrying on with his cooking.
The pot held a simple stew of tomatoes as soup with cut up potatoes and dried meat from the rack. Memor sprinkled whatever spices he had into the stew, uncaring of what it would taste like.
As the food cooked in the pot, Memor stared at the flames playing under it, the night breeze blowing at his dark hair which was too long to brush back, but too short to tie up.
He raised his head, staring into the sprinkled sky of stars, and the eclipsed moon, at that moment his mind was blank, The crackling of flames, the sound of his breathing, the gusts of wind, in his daily routine these moments of silence gave solace.
He felt one with the world, at least for those few moments, he was liberated.
26 Days Until Memor Becomes a Learner.
Year 953 of Refinery Era Day 187.
Memor laid on his mattress, his eyes were closed and his skin was drenched in sweat, his breathing had become laboured for a while now, but he showed no signs of waking up. It was another nightmare, the same one he always had. Suddenly in his mind, the voice of Uncle Ceres resounded.
'Wake up Memor'
Memor jolted awake, taking in large gasps of air, as his eyes shown with capillaries. Eventually he calmed himself down, he looked forward at his window blinds, the streams of light filtered through his beige curtains, shooting a soft golden glow across his floorboard. The illuminating light from the sun almost reached the bottom of the opposite wall.
Dazed, Memor picked himself off the bed and did his usual routine, eating Bayel flower, washing his face, which this time he met a lot of his neighbors doing the same at the front of the well, he respectfully greeted them and went back home.
Standing at his doorway, Memor walked towards the wardrobe, opened it and grabbed a sheathed sword from it. It was the feather-bladed jian.
You said you were going to make this sword into an Artifact today, right? Memor unsheathed a slight bit of the jian to check the blade, then Ceres's voice came confirming succinctly.
'Yes.'
Getting his confirmation, Memor left his home and went to Uncle Ceres's cabin. He walked through the taiga, twigs breaking under his feet with every step he took, the gales were much smaller here than the village thanks to the towering heights of the White spruce's scattered around.
Memor trekked up the slight slope of the forest towards Ceres's cabin which soon came in view. When he reached, Memor stood at its doorway then turned the handle. He was met with a familiar view, the small round table stood to the right of the interior with a set of wooden chairs fashioning it, to the far left of the room, a kitchen stood, granted the amount of cookware and cutlery was inadequate to deem it a true kitchen.
To his left, in the corner, a quarter turn staircase led to the second floor where Uncle Ceres waited. Just then, Memor felt a desire, no, more like an idea to go upstairs.
You know you can just tell me to come up, right? Memor thought, but he received no reply. He shook his head then made his way to the second floor. The second floor was a single room with no partitions, it had a pair of double windows on each side and the room was scattered with differently sized coffers, holding a range of items, from jewelry, to weapons, and clothing.
Sat on a bench at the end of the room with his back faced against Memor, Ceres's shoulders were standstill, but his stillness gave way to how focused he was on his work at his workbench.
Memor approached, as if sensing him, Ceres turned around extricating himself from his craft. Once Memor stood next to Ceres, he saw the items his uncle was tinkering with on his workbench—Placed on the workbench was a muslin pouch with what looked like a Memory Fragment on top, the image it reflected to Memor's eyes switched with every passing moment.
Unceremoniously, Uncle Ceres leisurely snatched the jian out of Memor's hand and placed it on his workbench after setting the muslin pouch and Memory Fragment to the side. Just then, Memor realized how unkept his uncle's work bench was, rings, metallic bracelets, golden brooches, and many more cluttered all over.
And I thought you'd be much more organized. Just then Memor had forgotten his uncle could read his thoughts, but he gained no attention from his uncle.
Uncle Ceres stood up and walked to a chest nearby, unbolting it, his hands scoured inside, looking for a specific item. In a few moments he stopped, Ceres left hand wearing a pine green glove, picked out a Memory Fragment from the coffer.
With the Memory Fragment in hand he walked back to his desk, as he returned Memor wandered towards the chest Ceres had taken out the Memory Fragment from which hadn't closed and gazed upon it. Situated in the coffer, Four distinct Memory Fragments rested on the coffer's base.
Finding nothing more of interest, Memor returned to Ceres's side, his eyes curious as to what his uncle would do with his sword and the Memory Fragment.
After removing the scabbard, Uncle Ceres raised both his hands and hovered it above the Memory Fragment and feather-bladed jian, he began infusing the feather-bladed jian with the Memory Fragment.