The morning after the fire, the village of Oakhaven was a skeleton of black wood and gray ash. The air still tasted of smoke, a bitter reminder that our peaceful life was a lie.
I sat on the porch of our half-burnt cottage, my hands trembling. I kept seeing that woman—Elena. I kept hearing her call "Rick" by a different name. Alaric. The name felt like a bell ringing in a deep, dark cave inside my mind.
Alaric—I will call him that, though my mind still struggles—was kneeling at my feet. He was being incredibly attentive, cleaning a small scrape on my knee with a damp cloth. He didn't look like a hero today. He looked like a man who was losing his soul.
"Who am I, Alaric?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He froze. He didn't look up, but I saw the muscles in his back tighten. The "spicy" heat radiating from him grew intense, a protective aura that wrapped around me like a blanket.
"You are Felina," he said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble. "You are the girl who read a story about a lonely monster and decided to save him. You are the woman who walked through a gate of bone and ash just to stay by my side."
I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. "I don't remember any monsters. I don't remember a gate. I just remember... rain. And a truck. And a white room where I couldn't move my arms."
Alaric dropped the cloth. He stood up and sat beside me on the porch, his shoulder brushing mine. The contact sent a massive "shiver" through my body—a spark of the old Soul-Link that made my skin tingle.
"Then I will remind you," he whispered. "I will show you the things the 'System' tried to delete."
The First Memory: The Library
He took my hand, his large, warm fingers interlacing with mine. He didn't lead me to a training ground. He led me to the edge of the forest, where the trees were still green and the sunlight filtered through the leaves in golden streaks.
He sat me down on a mossy log and stood before me. He closed his eyes, and for the first time since the fire, he let the Dragon Heart Stone (the cracked pieces he kept in a leather pouch) glow. A soft, violet light surrounded us.
"Close your eyes, Felina," he commanded softly. "Don't think about the fire. Think about the smell of old paper. Think about the sound of a thousand books whispering."
I closed my eyes. At first, there was only darkness. But then, Alaric's voice began to weave a picture.
"We were in a library," he murmured. "The walls were higher than the clouds. You were wearing a dress of violet silk. I was angry. I was a King who thought he was a curse, and you were the girl who told me I was wrong. Do you remember what you said to me?"
In the darkness of my mind, a flash appeared. I saw a flicker of a candle. I saw the silhouette of a man with silver-white hair.
"You're not a monster, Alaric. You're just lonely."
The words appeared in my head like they were being written in ink. I gasped, my eyes snapping open. "I... I saw it. I saw the books. But it felt like a dream, not a memory."
Alaric reached out and touched the mark on my neck—the place where his dragon-claim was hidden. "Dreams are just memories that the heart refuses to let go of. You saved me that night, Felina. You looked at my scales and you didn't run."
The Second Memory: The Taste of Home
He saw that I was tired, my mind struggling to hold onto the vision. He didn't push me. He spent the rest of the afternoon being a silent, attentive shadow.
He went to the small kitchen and began to gather ingredients. He didn't make a peasant's stew. He followed my "Modern World" instructions from weeks ago. He made the pancakes again, but this time, he added wild berries and honey he had gathered from the deep woods.
He brought the plate to me as the sun began to set.
"Eat," he said. "This is the food you taught me. You told me it was the taste of your world."
I took a bite. The sweetness hit my tongue, and suddenly, another "shiver" racked my body. I saw a cave. I saw blue water glowing with crystals. I saw myself laughing while Alaric tried to flip a pancake and failed.
A small, genuine smile touched my lips. "You were terrible at it," I whispered.
Alaric's golden eyes flared with a sudden, brilliant hope. He dropped to his knees in front of me, grabbing my hands. "You remember? You remember the cave?"
"I remember the feeling," I said, my voice growing stronger. "I remember that I wasn't afraid of you. I remember that you were... mine."
The atmosphere in the small cottage grew "spicy" and heavy with emotion. Alaric leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. He wasn't the King or the carpenter; he was just a man who had waited an eternity for his wife to come back to him.
"I am yours," he rasped, his breath hot against my lips. "In every world. In every story. I will keep reminding you until your soul is full again."
The Lingering Shadow
But as we sat in the quiet glow of the hearth, I felt a coldness in the back of my mind.
The "System" was watching us. Every memory Alaric brought back was a battle against the ink. I looked at Alaric's hands—the blisters from the fire were gone, replaced by the faint, shimmering patterns of his obsidian scales.
"Elena... she said I was a ghost," I whispered. "She said I'm a glitch."
Alaric pulled me into his arms, hiding my face in his chest. His heat was a wall against the world. "She is a liar. You are the only real thing I have ever touched. Tomorrow, I will take you to the Lake of Reflection. The water there is ancient. It shows the truth of the soul. If the words won't stay in your head, maybe the water will show you your heart."
I nodded, feeling a deep, possessive love radiating from him. He was winning me back, piece by piece. He wasn't training my body to fight; he was training my spirit to stay.
But outside, the white crow of the High Temple landed on our roof. Elena was not done. She knew that as long as Felina didn't fully remember, the Dragon was weak. And she was planning to use that weakness to strike at the Lake.
"I'm starting to remember you, Alaric," I whispered as I fell asleep.
"I never forgot you, Felina," he replied, his voice a golden vow in the dark.