Regards of Great Forgotten Things – Day 16

READ ME:

The Great Conflict, and the world, has ended. Magic is forbidden so that the world can heal. I believe it’s stolen your memories, too. Which is why you and I are keeping this journal. You, reading this tomorrow, and me, writing this today.

Remember this if you can:

Your name is Carth. You are a warrior, aged boy. You are in the service to the Warlord’s clan in his mission to restore order to the Realm. Ask daily for your payments. For an index of items, places, people and locations, refer to the scrolls next to this one.

* * *

You were ambushed, Carth. It was only a small skirmish, but there’s more that I want us to remember, now. Though I can’t give you much—do you think anyone truly remembers fights clearly? Or do only you and I suffer from this affliction?

You need to remember Anthea dragging a twin away from his brother’s limp body, leaving the corpse on the road for the carrion crows.

She herself would be dragged away later when she saw that her dog had suffered the same fate.

You need to remember Anthea spearing an injured horse—and the cavalryman whose leg it had crushed. He looked at you, then. Even through your fog of shattered memories, you knew what that look meant. And you know it now as you read this.

You and I both know how these men felt. I suspect we all know. We’ve all learned the guilt that comes with being alive.

* * *

Remember this if you can:

A field of grass bowing under your progression, crunched underfoot and cut apart before it could twine around you.

A village of stone-and-mortar homes.

White-knuckled hands wrapped around longswords.

The glint steel against the sun.

Scattered shrieks and raising shields.

Your hand, red and wet and holding a longsword plunged up to the hilt into a wide-eyed monster. Only a boy. A no-tusked, pale-fleshed boy.

Clarissant saying, “Couldn’t be helped.”

Clarissant saying, “Carth?”

Clarissant saying, “Talk to me.”

First

Previously

Table of Contents

 

 

Special thanks to my patron on Patreon, Alicia Cameron

Author: Connor M. Perry

From an early age, I learned how to divide by four. See, two minutes after I was born, I discovered three other newborns hot on my heels. I was a quadruplet. And I needed to learn to how to share. Everything. At an early age, I took to writing so that I could have something unsharable. I began writing small stories online for my own enjoyment, and gradually moved to more ambitious ideas. I've been running my blog The Mythlings for two years now, publishing a new installment every Friday. I've enjoyed creating different worlds, characters and relationships in my stories. I currently live in Worcester, MA with my girlfriend, two cats, and a collection of swords.

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