The life he lived

The man he held in his arms used his last strength, striving to see his face thoroughly. As if making sure he was not mistaken. And when he fully recognized him, the reflection in his eyes wavers in disbelief. You can read the sadness in his dying gaze. The man's neck gave up on turning to him as his blood ran down to the crummy ground of the narrow street.

Khael, panicking, desperately looks for someone to help them. Unfortunately, there's no other person in sight. Thus, he had no choice but to carry an almost lifeless body only by himself. The limp body was heavier than he'd thought. It was exceedingly exhausting physically and mentally, fearing that someone might have died in his hands. It added to his already overflowing anguish, fueled by guilt and regret.

Khael repudiates that there is only a slim chance for the person he carries to survive. After a mere short suffering and desperate shouting—asking for help—he finally found someone to help them. Eventually, they arrived at the closest hospital.

He had almost passed out with the tension ramming him. There's no need for someone to tell him how he would look. Khael knew how terrified and distressed he was while waiting to know what had become to the person he attempted to kill.

'S-should I run? Maybe while there's still a chance for me to-'

Khael almost puked as he covered his mouth in disgust at his thoughts. 'How did I end up like this? How did I mistake him for-'

He halted his thoughts as tears ran down his cheeks. And now, while staring at his bloodied hands. "Please… don't die… I am begging you," he sobs. "Forgive me... please don't die…."

***

It's been a few minutes since Khael woke up in an unfamiliar room—narrower, smaller, and darker than the former. He had a dream; it was a part of his memory from the past. It was excruciatingly clear as if he was reliving what he had felt and experienced back then.

In the meantime, he still couldn't comprehend what happened to him yesterday. Fortunately, he regained the memories he'd longed for—for the entire time. His name, his family, the life he had. Fair enough—it keeps him in the right frame of mind where he still knows who he was. And it was an important matter, except—if you take away the fact that he was in someone's body.

Khael groaned, perturbed by a lot of thoughts running through his mind. He has to strengthen his resolve despite being utterly bewildered by things that ensued to him. "I don't know if I can do any more of this," he said, rubbing his forehead in incredulity.

Sometime later. Khael heard a knock on the other side of the metallic door. The slow jarring sound of creaking follows through as it opens, revealing someone he wanted (in hope) to see. He remained silent at the moment, his back glued to the wall behind him, thinking of why the old guard came to see him.

"How are you now?" Grant asked. The old guard slid down and took a comfortable seat on the ground in front of him. "I'm sorry if we had to do this. We have something important we need to ask from you. But for now, we are giving you the time to recover first."

"Is that so, but can you tell me at least what is it all about?" asked Khael, hoping for a sincere response from the old guard.

"Do you remember what we had talked about last time?" he asked with a serious tone in his voice. "The fact that you're ignorant on that matter proves that you indeed did lose your memories. You'd be in deep trouble if you said that to others."

"I don't understand. What did I say last time? We're just talking about a portrait, right? A damn portrait!" he said out of frustration. Khael immediately reminded himself to be calm. He had to gather more information from them. "I-I'm sorry for that."

"No, that's fine. In consider to what happened to you. Most of the victims had lost their sanity as soon as they became aware of their empty existence. It made them succumb to a frightening scale of existential crisis. And some of them had tried-" Grant halted, a gloom expression hinted at his face. "Anyway, there's someone who wants to talk to you. I might say that she's definitively someone who can help you. She'll arrive here tomorrow."

"And who was that?" Khael asked curiously.

"Someone I know personally," said Grant. "And oh… before I forgot. Here's some food and make sure to eat this, alright? I'll be heading now," the old guard carefully stood up—with all his efforts despite the struggle caused by his healthy round figure. Grant nodded to him as he made his way out of the room.

Khael let out a long-suffering sigh. He knew he had no other choice but to obey them and go along for now. Besides, he doesn't want to cause a commotion as to what happened before. However, he knows that none of it was his fault. In the meantime, he set aside the thoughts on whom to trust or not.

It's strange how he was downright fine despite what he experienced. As odd as it sounds, he could somehow endure and barely even be bothered by occurrences he encounters. As if there's someone who was influencing him throughout.

'Was it the person who originally owned this body? Was I actually who I thought I was? This has to be a dream, right? Maybe I'll wake up sometime later. Then what? After I killed someone, and before I knew it, my life had ended miserably.'

After all, his life was long gone when the person he tried to kill didn't make it—a friend, a close one to him that he mistakenly killed. Khael surrendered himself and admitted what he had done with no excuses. And he spent the remaining of his life in prison.

Khael then stifled a laugh. He realized nothing wrong when he woke up inside a prison cell. Except, he was in a different body. 'What the hell is happening to me for real?'

'Don't tell me, was it a second chance? But this life wasn't supposed to be mine, right? What if the person who originally owned this body came back? Would I disappear? Then it wasn't bad at all. My suffering should have ended already.'

***

Then another day arrived. Khael spends his time moving and stretching his limbs as a way to cope whenever the occasional pain from his body pesters him. And then, he heard someone arriving on the other side of the metallic door.

He nonchalantly stood from the ground, and the door opened, revealing Grant and a woman with him. Khael was initially uncertain about her age due to her ageless, serene appearance that tells—how much of a beauty she was in her younger days.

With his usual smiling face, Grant and an elegant-looking woman are now standing in front of him. "This is the person I was talking about yesterday, Dessia Adhilla." Grant initiated as he introduced the person with him.

Dessia gave Khael a slight nod and a firm smile. Even with the beauty within, it didn't remove the wrinkles formed on her delicate face.

Khael greets her back with a scant nod. He had assumed that—she might be someone that seemed important. He simply based it on how she dressed and the overflowing elegance she radiated just by standing there.

"Pardon me for this sudden request of mine. I have something essential to discuss with you. I hope it is fine," said the old woman as she gestured a light bow elegantly.

"I-It's fine. I have nothing else to do, anyway." Khael responded.

"Still, thank you for giving me this chance," said Dessia, then shifted her gaze to Grant, who suddenly jolted up from his comfortable sitting spot on the floor.

"Ah, yes, I'll leave the both of you now. Dessia, you can now talk to him privately and have fun, I guessed," said Grant with an awkward grin and immediately made his way out of the room.

Suddenly, an eerie and silent atmosphere bloomed. Khael felt a chill all over his body, but he didn't feel any hostility in the narrow room or towards the old woman.

Dessia leans a little toward him with a worried expression. "Pardon me. You seem to be affected by the veil I cast. Should I tone it down a little?" the old woman gestured her hand on her chin. "Though I'm afraid if I make it weaker—it'll not be enough to prevent someone from hearing our conversation."

Khael was half perturbed by almost forgetting that there was such a thing as magic in this world. He was aware but not wholly convinced throughout the strange occurrences he encountered.

He thought those were just a product of imaginative ideas humans came up with. But here… the reality itself was the manifestation of something he never thought would be real. But he still has to be careful. Khael had decided not to reveal for now to anyone that he had already regained his memories.

"I'm fine, so… what do you want to discuss with me?"

"Right, let me get to the point. How much of your memory you can still remember?"

Khael expected this question, but he wasn't expecting it to be asked immediately. The old woman's gaze had met his astounded eyes. "Forgive me. I know how frustrating and terrifying your condition was," Dessia paused as she took a deep breath. "Many people had fallen victim to those Mnemonic Beings. I know many of them. And I know how terrifying that is..."

She was at least considerate and sensitive enough to take his reaction at being worried at most. Khael had to commend her attitude for that. And then Dessia Adhilla took something from her long dress pocket and directly handed it to him. It was a piece of trim, hand-carved wood. Khael was amazed as he mistook it for a monochrome photo.

The drawing on the small canvas was simplistically drawn with pure fine details. There were two people drawn in it; an adorable girl and a charismatic-looking boy.

"That charming little girl was me," said Dessia as an overly proud grin formed on her face.

"It doesn't seem a surprise," Khael retorted back with flattery. "So, what was the purpose of you showing me this?" he added with curious intent.

A pleasant smile formed on her face. "It's been almost five decades since my father drew this portrait of mine and this cheeky boy… Grant."

"I-Is that him?" Khael stuttered in astonishment.

Dessia chuckled. "Yes, that's him. It never gets old having to see the same reaction every time someone sees Grant when he was young. He really is handsome back then. What a waste," but then her cheerful demeanor abruptly changed. It was not as if she had done something strange again. It was only her short queer silence that made the atmosphere denser. "Khael… even I. I-I can't seem to believe that this little girl was me."

"…Pardon?" Khael probed.

"The memories I had until that day. Almost half of my lifetime of memories amounted to that had vanished and never been able to regain anymore."

"Don't tell me…."

"Grant already told you, right? You might have encountered the Mnemonic Beings and had your memories stolen, just like the rest."

"That's right, that's what they had told me," Khael answered. His intuition tells him that there's something more behind her words. He has to find out more about this. Dessia Adhilla seems somewhat trustworthy, at the least for him.

"It seems we have little time remaining now. Forgive me for this, but I need to know how much of your memories had been lost," said Dessia earnestly. "Is it everything? Or there was anything you still able to remember?"

Khael felt the sense of urgency in her voice. Was he right about having a notion that there was something more to this? Perhaps telling her half of the truth should be fine. And so he decided. "Everything… everything besides my name. I know it was strange… but that's what I can explain only even to myself so far."

"Besides your name? Were you able to remember anything aside from that?"

"Nothing," he answers clearly.

"Is that so?" she said. "Then… we might have been right that you were a unique case."

"Huh? What do you mean by that??"

"I would like to answer the questions you have in your mind now. But we don't have time for now," Dessia mumbles, something Khael couldn't discern. "Even if it's just a frail one, it would be too suspicious if they sensed the veil I made. It sucks that this is the extent of my skill in this branch."

Suddenly, the heavy atmosphere had trickled. It feels like Khael's whole body was freed from something heavy weighing on him the entire time they're talking. His breathing reverted to normal, and the strange ethereal presence he felt as if someone or something was floating around him. And it seems that its very existence became weaker but not entirely disappeared.

"Khael, come with me. If you choose to trust me, I'll protect you in any way."

Khael was startled. "To protect me? To what-" he halted as soon as he realized what she had meant by that. "D-Do you mean… I was in danger??"

"We hope that wasn't the case. Grant told you something about 'her', right?" Dessia frowned, and her face traced with worry and uncertainty. "So, what was your answer?"

"'Her'? C-Can I at least think about it first?" Khael inquired. He doesn't want to make himself look desperate for help. Though he badly needed her help to figure out everything he needed to know about himself or relatively into this world.

"That should be fine. Does until tomorrow enough for you?"

"I think that was enough for me," Khael responded.

"Someone's coming," then the old woman leaned closer to him as she whispered. "Khael, heed this warning of mine. Whatever they ask, don't ever tell anything about 'her'. Or even if you don't know, just don't mention anything related to Astelta."

Shortly, they heard a firm knock coming from the other side of the metallic door. As it opened, it revealed a person six feet tall with a manly and intimidating appearance. It was the Sergeant, Baron Gelfand.

"Pardon my intrusion," the sergeant gave a decent bow to the person in front of him. "It's been so long, lady Des-"

"Oh, Barry! It has been a long time. Glad you're still looking good," said Dessia in a cheerful tone.

"Ah… yes, lady Dessia. I assumed you had talked already?" asked Baron.

"Don't worry, we're done talking, anyway. Thank you for allowing us to meet Baron."

"My deepest pleasure, lady Dessia…" he paused as his gaze shifted to Khael. "You should remain here for now. Don't do anything unnecessary, and rest as much as you can," Baron regarded as he guided Dessia on her way out of the room.

Dessia took a last glance at Khael with a consoling expression and smiled before going out.

The metallic door closing echoed in the dark, narrow room. Khael had learned two or three things, but it made things more complicated for him. This place, or rather this world, is far from just being different. Him on someone else's body or the odd things he encountered that he couldn't fathom.

Khael knows he badly needs someone's aid, even if he isn't sure he can trust anyone. The old woman seems sincere, but there's something always hidden in one's kindness towards others. At least, that's what he learned from his life…

'There's no such thing as pure kindness.'

After the mentally exhausting discussion with Dessia Adhilla, Khael feels like his recently recovered energy had been drawn out of him instantly. 'What was that thing she did earlier inside this room?' Khael wondered, and suddenly… he could already feel his body urging him to fall asleep again.

'But what did she just tell me earlier? Astelta… I don't think I had heard a name before. Though somehow, it was oddly familiar to me… ah, what am I saying?'

The lingering throbbing pain in his body still bothered him most of the time. Even with his mind troubled by many things, the urge to fall asleep was stronger and brought a momentary peace to him.