I finished gathering the necessary flowers with Eli and started the walk back home. By the time we arrived, the sun was beginning its slow surrender to the horizon. Work was done, and every conversation across the village was focused on the same topic: the mystery boy and his origins.
"Eli, is it really true you found some crazy handsome soldier by the river?"
My sister's friends swarmed her, tugging her hand to extract every last detail.
I deposited the flower bales behind the house, washed the sweat from my face and arms at the rain barrel, and slipped inside. Mother was stirring a fragrant stew. Further inside, with the stranger, was Granny. Dilip was seated nearby, his back against the wall, his sword resting nonchalantly against his side.
I walked in and sat quietly behind Granny's chair.
The boy was still prone on his stomach, his main head injury now tightly bound in clean linen. He slept soundly, his broad back rising and falling with a steady, rhythmic breathe.
"No fever, thank Ehlite," Granny declared, sounding optimistic after a final check of his brow. "He should be awake any time now."
He didn't look ready to me, but what did I know of healing?
"He looks... different," Dilip mused, lazily spinning the hilt of his sword. "I've never seen hair that colour. Why blue?"
It was the same question that had plagued my own mind. Most people in the surrounding villages had black or brown hair; only in rare cases, like the women in my family, were they blonde. He would be conspicuous wherever he went.
"He could be a soldier from another nation at war with Insatel. There is certainly no shortage of them in this world," Granny replied to Dilip. "It feels as though they've been warring since I was a child. Monsters like Emet are everywhere and growing in number, yet the King has not lifted a finger to help."
I wholeheartedly agreed. For the last century, Emet has been simultaneously worshipped and feared by our ancestors, and all this time, the King has refused to help any of the villages. For those with the blessings of fire, lightning, or other magical abilities, anything seemed possible. Yet the King of Insatel was more interested in taxing his people and terrorizing smaller nations. He called himself a conqueror, as if the title conferred nobility. Are we not all conquerors when we step on ants and take their lands?
My grandmother sighed deeply, turning to me. "I'm going to rest, little one. Dilip, your wife must be waiting dinner."
Dilip stood, sheathing his sword. "Tell Menir to relieve me when he's free."
"As you wish, Vistellia. I'll swap with Menir before nightfall. We'll see how he fares in the morning."
"Thank you for your help. Please give Lola my best," Granny replied warmly.
"I will. I'll see you two soon." He gave a slight nod towards me and walked out.
With Dilip gone, Granny got up and stretched her stiff muscles. "I'm going to eat something and rest a bit. Please look after him until Menir arrives."
Ugh, I was starving, too. I swallowed my protest, unwilling to complain to Granny, who had worked three times as hard.
"Very well. I'll stay."
Granny squeezed my hand before leaving me alone with the patient.
How utterly boring. I walked to the window and pushed it wide open. The air had cooled pleasantly. I watched the village children playing near the wheat fields. How I wished to be as blissfully carefree as them—to have no greater problem than how to spend the day until supper. They saw the world with such innocence. When did I lose that? When did Eli?
A sudden rustling noise behind me startled me. Granny must be back.
"Who are you?"
The voice was weak, but laced with hostility.
It wasn't Granny. The blue-haired boy was staring at me. I froze, my eyes wide, and could only stare back. His piercing blue eyes were sharp with distrust.
"Who are you, and where am I?" He tried to turn his head, searching for something familiar. "W-what is this place?"
"Try and... r-r-relax, please!" I stammered, raising my hands in a universal gesture of non-hostility. "Y-you shouldn't move just yet... Granny!"
He looked momentarily surprised by my sudden shout and whipped his head toward the entrance just as Granny and Mother burst through the door. He tried to sit up but instantly fell back, the pain of the movement clear in his eyes as he struggled to maintain his balance.
"Lie back down! Your wounds are still fresh." Granny, completely unafraid, was already helping him settle back onto the pallet, a help he did not refuse.
After he had settled and taken a long drink of water, he looked calmer, though still profoundly confused.
"My Lady," he said, his voice polite despite his fear. "Could you tell me who you are?"
"My name is Vistellia Wold, and you are in my home."
"What happened to me?"
"Well, my granddaughters found you terribly injured, and we brought you here to mend your wounds," she explained, pouring more water and handing the empty jug back to my mother. "Don't worry, you seem to be through the worst of it."
"So I was saved... by you?"
"With the help of many others... yes."
He looked down at his hands, seeming deeply troubled. He looked up, a thread of desperate hope in his eyes.
"But I... do you know who I am?"
"I don't, sorry. You had a bad head injury. I am sure your memory will return soon."
He looked terrified, checking frantically around the room until his gaze landed on our small wall mirror.
"Could I ask for that, please?" he requested, looking at me, then pointing to the wall.
Granny nodded at me. I went and took the mirror down, bringing it to him. Up close, he didn't seem quite so scary.
"Thank you, Lady."
I had never been called a Lady in my life. He certainly had good manners, even without his memory.
He took the mirror and brought it close to his face. He touched his cheeks, astonished. A slow, humourless laugh escaped him, and his eyes widened in horror. "Why can't I remember this face? W-what is this?"
I saw the distinct shine of tears in his eyes. It must be utterly terrifying to wake up and not even recognize your own reflection.
"Give it time, my boy," Granny said gently, reaching out her hand and waiting patiently. "I suggest resting, and perhaps eating something to get your strength back."
He handed the mirror back, meeting Granny's kind gaze. He closed his eyes and consciously regulated his breathing until it became slow and calm.
"Thank you for your kindness," he said, sounding genuinely touched. "For saving my life."
"Call me Vistellia," she offered, pointing to herself. She then pointed to us. "This one behind me is my daughter, Seline, and the one over there is my eldest granddaughter, Lylly."
He looked at us one by one and gave a short nod.
I looked at him again. He was... undeniably handsome. I hadn't had time to truly look before because of the panic, but Eli's friends, though they hadn't seen him properly, were correct.
"I apologize for earlier," he said, looking at me, sounding genuinely sorry. "I hope I didn't scare you too much."
His eyes were an intense, striking blue—clearer than spring water. I was so flustered that the best I could manage was a clumsy lie:
"I wasn't afraid."
My God... why? Why lie like that? My screaming for Granny and raising my hands in submission were proof enough for even a blind man.
"I see," he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips, "My apologies for assuming."
He was gracious enough to protect my non-existent pride.
Mother returned with some food. He gave sincere thanks and ate with a ferocious hunger. After finishing the stew and drinking more water, Menir arrived, his sword already half-drawn.
He looked significantly more shocked than the three of us.
"Menir, put that away. It is not needed," Granny commanded, placing a hand on the blade itself.
Menir, a loyal healing apprentice, only carried a sword because every man did. He looked like he was halfway between fleeing and wildly swinging the blade. His better judgement won. He slid the blade back into its scabbard, though he kept his hand firmly on the hilt.
"I believe our guest might need more sleep," Granny said, getting up and patting the boy's shoulder. "Your memories might return faster if you rest. Now, sleep."
"Thank you, Lady Vistellia, for everything. I will heed your words." He nodded slowly and leaned back onto the bed.
"Hmm. Let us all leave him be. Let's go."
We left him there. Just before I walked out, I saw his eyes were already closed. I can't believe Eli missed this.
I left my mother and granny and quickly walked toward the Sen. I knew Eli and her friends would likely be near the water, playing in the shallows.
"Eli! He just woke up!" I slowed my pace, finally catching my breath.
Instead of answering, she bolted right past me, her girlfriends close behind, heading straight for the house.
Boy. I guess she really was interested in him. Although... he did look better than most men in Emet village, and his body was sculpted like... Ugh, who cares? I wasn't going to let some random stranger get me all flustered after a single exchange.
I walked slowly back. Our house was always often visited, but today the crowd was of ridiculous proportions. Enough already. Just go home!
I pushed past a group of married women and saw my childhood friend, Liz, who was talking with my mother while holding her two-year-old son.
"Lylly, hey! Everyone is talking about your family and the handsome soldier," Liz greeted me.
How did everyone know he was handsome? As far as I knew, only my family and Menir had seen him properly. Was it Menir? Why?
"I don't know about handsome or a soldier, considering he doesn't even remember his own name," I countered, leaning against the wall and playfully engaging with her son. "But yes, Eli found him this morning. By the way, have you seen her?"
I didn't need to ask; I could hear her and Grandmother talking through the thin walls. My own mother came out and answered anyway.
"She's helping your granny. She seems... super-excited," she smiled, taking the baby from Liz.
Oh, great.
My mother clearly didn't mind that we knew nothing about this boy or his history. She seemed happy that her youngest daughter was already making eyes at him.
Instead of voicing my annoyance, I gave Liz a short goodbye and went inside to see what was going on.
I heard their voices—they clearly hadn't let him sleep. I walked into the room Mother shared with Granny.
"...I wouldn't stress about it. Memory loss like this can persist for days, weeks; however..." Granny was seated on his left, and Eleanor was on his right. "...I have to tell you. It may never return."
The boy was sitting up in bed, listening intently. When Granny finished, he looked sad and lost. He furrowed his eyebrows, sighed deeply, and then turned his head back. "I-I understand... it's just a lot." He looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "I really don't know how to thank you. I owe you and your family a great deal."
He was looking directly at Eli, who instantly turned bright red.
Granny just smiled kindly at them both, giving my sister a proud look.
"In any case... we can't keep calling you 'the boy'," she said, refocusing his attention. "What about a name? Hmm... What do you think of Zephyr? It was my late son's name—Lylly's father."
Now he's taking my father's name? Why? What are you doing, Granny?
"Zephyr..." He closed his eyes and gave a thoughtful nod toward her. "It is a name with great meaning, then. I will do my best not to bring shame upon it. Once again... thank you."
Even with my reservations, I couldn't fully dislike him. How could you dislike anyone who was that polite, that genuinely thankful, and... that attractive?