[This post is a solo story between Natsumi and her butler Njall. Full disclosure: Njall goes by his true name, Meyne, for this post, and I have the mage companion to do this.]
Secrets lie in wait in this world, hidden by both time and history. Sometimes we are subtly aware of them, but simply cannot recall the memory when pressed. We forget during our waking moments, or rather push aside and leave behind dusty bones in darkness.
Yet, despite our self-imposed ignorance, these memories of ours will endure. They are simply hidden within our thoughts and actions, waiting to emerge in the slightest deviation of choice. And even when we try to forget, they will sometimes force themselves into our dreams.
This is the story of one such individual: a maiden of strength and great prowess who has forgotten something close to her heart. Her memory has been ignored too long, and so it has drawn her into a goddess's storybook.
After the events on that island in the Nyella Ocean, Natsumi laid down to rest for the night. Njall's offer of service had been accepted, and a strange nagging of trust was now hanging on the woman's conscience. Though he wore a mask, there was something familiar for the slumbering beauty about her new butler. It commanded her dreams, even as both she and Njall fell into Rhea's storybook.
Upon awaking in her dreamscape, the young Natsumi found herself on a volcanic island similar to Apoy. Its landscape mirrored that most hated of locations, causing the dreamer to immediately wish to leave.
"Why am I here, Kino," she asked? But, contrary to expectations, the sentient artifact did not respond. Where there should have been tactful analysis mixed with snide humor, there was only deafening silence. "Kino?" Waves were hitting the sandy beach she stood upon as she waited for the response that never came, tossing granules in between her pale toes. There were no natives coming to greet her; no shouting at the inhuman creature invading the beachhead. It was as if she were in a completely different world.
And so she was. This island that Natsumi stood upon was no Apoy. It was, instead, a memory of another world, one where the natives had long been exterminated. Now all that remained were ruins guarded by a dormant volcano, ones that drew the woman away from her post on the shore.
"What is this place," Natsumi asked when the village came into view? Rather than the typical, rotten wood that characterized tribal villages, she discovered stone walls. They were overgrown with vegetation, so much so it was hard to tell where the boundary between forest and civilization lay. Yet there was obviously someone here. Natsumi could hear him, smell the chemicals he was working with as she approached a nearby, makeshift hut that had been erected amidst the sprawling ruins.
"Let's see here," the voice of the hut's owner conferred in assumed solitude as the cursed human drew near. He had an obvious accent, one that reminded Natsumi of Njall; but he sounded younger and less certain than that mysterious, masked butler of hers. Needless to say, her curiosity was peaked, and so she quietly approached the nearest window on the crude structure to listen to the boy's self-talk. "According to my research, this village was likely destroyed 700 years ago, judging by the relative age of some mainland artifacts that had to be imported. That would put the island's destruction around the time that a volcanic eruption occurred. However, such an eruption would surely have destroyed all these artifacts. If the eruption came after the extinction – or was even the cause - why are there remnants of something as fragile as pottery? Not only that, if an eruption were the cause of the village's extinction, there should be statues of former residents. However, there are none. So what killed them? Was there a plague? Some invading army lost to the dredges of history? A monster attack?"
It was at this point in listening to the scientist's monologue that free will departed. Natsumi had, thus far, maintained her independence in the dream realm. However, when she drew near to the young, red headed researcher, she lost that luxury. She was consciously aware of this transition, struggling in vain to move away from the window. Desire fractured, commanding curiosity to override wisdom. Soon, the memory of the past dominated the freedom of the present, and so, Natsumi exposed her face above the windowsill when she really wanted to leave.
"What are you doing," she asked as even her voice followed a path long since forgotten? The eccentric, young researcher was immediately startled by these words. He practically jumped from the floor and into a nearby collection of barrels. Natsumi wore an incredulous expression at such a rapid occurrence, as if she had never met such an over the top coward. "There's no need to be so scared, you coward."
"Not scared…" the teenage boy responded meekly after some time to collect his nerves. He slowly emerged from behind the wooden constructs, revealing his dirty face. His fingernails were laden with ink, as if he had been working with fresh documents, and his hair was filled with debris from untold amounts of time spent away from civilization. "Just startled."
"Right." Natsumi was having none of the man's excuses, but she did giggle at the effort. She climbed through the window and came face to face with the building's owner before interrogating him. "No one comes to these ruins unless they're looking for something. <Blank> is largely outside the network of the major shipping companies."
"That's true," was all the human could say in response, averting his gaze while doing so. He was clearly uncomfortable around the strange looking woman, though the anxiety seemed different than what Natsumi usually encountered. "My name is Meyne. I came here looking for someone called Natsumi, but I got distracted by these ruins. History has always been a fascination of mine, especially since our world seems so intent on providing a skewed view point. It's hard for me to pass up an opportunity to learn more about the truths our ancestors tried to hide away."
"Looking for me, huh?" The dream Natsumi was expectedly suspicious about this development, and drew her tanto before tackling Meyne to the ground. She held it close to his neck, not letting up until she had the answers she desired. "Most who do so come looking for me because they desire my death. Tell me what you desire and why I shouldn't just kill you right now to safeguard myself?"
"P-please, wait!" Meyne, having already been uneasy around women, was especially taken aback when he suddenly found himself pinned underneath one. His heart raced with both fear and excitement at the development, confusion lacing his thoughts at the same time. "I swear on my mother's grave that I never desired your death! I just came to talk!"
"Who sent you, then?"
"The nephew of F-e-, L—h!" Though the names were obscured by corruption in Natsumi's memory, she seemed to recognize them. The dream version of her persona reacted, withdrawing the knife from Meyne's throat and putting it back into its scabbard.
"L—h," she asked while remaining on top of Meyne? "That shrimp finally grew up?"
"He's not so much a shrimp anymore…" Meyne responded. The scientist was wondering when Natsumi would get off of him at this point. He was highly shy, and so the act of being pinned down by a woman he found highly attractive was anxiety inducing. He didn't mind it, but he thought to inform Natsumi of the reality she seemed oblivious to. "Uhm, I don't mean to be rude, but is there a reason you're still on top of me?"
The oblivious druid woke up from her focus once she heard Meyne, and rolled off of him. "Oh, sorry," she said while helping him to his feet. She brushed him down before slapping him on the butt once he was upright, in keeping with her typical mannerisms. It made the reserved teenager jump out of his skin again, though not without some vague feelings of appreciation.
So the secret memory began.
While Natsumi's first meeting with Meyne was rocky at best, it quickly became obvious that the relationship did not remain that way. As with most memories, though, nothing is ever completely remembered. The story fed off of fragments, weaving them together into a semi-recognizable pattern. There were inevitable errors. Names of places and people were missing, and entire chunks of the timeline were absent.
For example, the moment that Natsumi helped Meyne to his feet, the image of the ramshackle hut faded, giving way to a collection of hot springs. An unknown amount of time had passed, and Natsumi found herself dragging Meyne by his scruffy collar toward one of the larger pools.
"Natsumi," he shouted in protest, struggling meekly to escape! All effort was in vain.
"You need a bath even if I have to force you to take one." Steam rose into a thick fog that coated the land as the pair drew near to the springs. It soon became difficult for either of them to see each other, but not to the point where Natsumi couldn't easily remove the young scientist's clothes. She repossessed his garments with the speed of a horny patron at a brothel, and then kicked the naked man into the nearest spring. "You forget I have the nose of a fox. When you're covered in grease and chemicals like you are right now, it's so detrimental to my sense of smell that I'd classify the act of not bathing as assault."
"Be that as it may, did you have to have to remove my clothing and stay to watch so as to make sure I bathed?" The retort from Meyne was an understandable question, but misinformed with the assumption that Natsumi was seeing him nude for the first time.
"I've seen you naked many times by now. It's hardly new." Even in days of old, Natsumi was a voyeur. This memory was proving that, and the young Meyne called her on the less than righteous characteristic.
"Natsumi? You're a pervert."
Visual stimulation faded with the introduction of the hot spring scenario, representing some turbulent event in Natsumi's past. A goddess's storybook is a powerful tool, but not one capable of restoring memories lost outside her domain. Darkness consumed the pastoral scene of young, misunderstood love as soon as it began, beckoning the replacement of sights with sound.
"You're an idiot," came the druid's voice from a distant precipice once all sight had faded, distinctly separate from her mouth. "If you die, I can't return the love you've allowed me to feel once more." It was joined by another, unknown enunciator.
"Are you awake, yet," the foreign woman asked in calm sobriety? "How long will you stay asleep? How long must the people who miss you endure before you finally remember and wake up? Natsumi?" There was little time to answer before Natsumi found herself confronted by a portrait eight people. Six were missing their faces, as if water had been used to wash away all colors. The remaining two were of Natsumi and Meyne, both of them smiling at some unknown event.
"Who-?" the young woman started to ask as she reached out to touch the portrait, but she was swiftly torn back to the world before she could make contact.
"Madame Natsumi, are you alright," asked Njall as Natsumi started stir back in her tent? Saya had gone to get him when her mother's vivid dreaming didn't let up, around the same time that Meyne had disappeared from the story. Natsumi didn't know this as she finally awoke, but was grateful for the concern all the same.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she said groggily while sitting up. Her hand rubbed the crust from her eyes and she adjusted to see the two human faces looking back at her. They were decorated with worry, but eased somewhat when Natsumi assured them of the benign nature of her nightmares."It was just a vivid dream. I think I'm going to stay awake for a while and give myself time to calm down."
"Very well," Njall responded as he moved back to a respectable distance at the assurances of his mistress. "Would you like some chamomile tea in the meantime? The stores should be opening in Parvpora shortly, so I can teleport over to get the ingredients and have it brewed in a few minutes if that is your wish."
"That would lovely," Natsumi said while still have asleep, not realizing the mix-up she was about to make. "Thank you, Meyne."
"I'm sorry?" The name confusion came as a shocking development, more so to the butler than either of the women present. Njall, who was normally stoic beyond compare, became visibly shaken at being called by a different name. He regained composure swiftly, but not before a still sleepy Ice Queen nonchalantly addressed her mental slip.
"Njall. I meant Njall." And so the story ended. Yet the memory remained. It, like the secrets of the world, would fester and grow, until such a time that Natsumi remembered what she has forgotten.
