Niko pressed the vial against Irene’s mouth, letting the concoction slowly flow in. She dutifully swallowed the potion without complaint.

  “So? What’s your guess?” Niko asked.

  The girl thought about it for a moment. “Blueberry?” she replied, her voice hoarse.

  “Got it in one!”

  Irene giggled, happy that her senses hadn’t failed her. Niko was looking for ways to add artificial flavors to his medicine and decided to make it a game with Irene. He would have her guess the flavor every time he visited.

  The healer stood up and placed three bottles of medicine next to her bedside. “As usual, let her drink them twice a day—once each in the morning and at night—after meals. Do this for two weeks straight and take note if her condition gets better or worse. I’ll check back in the following week.”

  Irene’s mother bowed to him. “I don’t know if I can ever repay you, doctor.”

  “It’s no problem at all!” Niko said as he began packing all his tools. “You’ve already paid for my services anyway.”

  Tethys shook her head. “In truth, you should be earning more than you do, but you always ask for so little in payment.”

  “I don’t mind, ma’am.” A smile was quick to show on Niko’s face. “Besides, if I priced too highly, nobody would come to my clinic!”

  The woman laughed. “You sound just like your father.”

  Niko’s hands stopped for just a moment. He continued to pack before Tethys could pick up on his reaction. “You knew my father?” he said, eyes simply tracing the movement of his hands and his belongings.

  “Well, yes. You said your name was Nikolaos Argyri, right? That means you must be the son of Maron Argyri. I had the great fortune of being treated by him many years ago. Just like you, he barely asked for anything in return. He was a kind man. To think his own son would become a Healmage, too, and follow in his footsteps ... Which God Blesses with Healing magic again? Was it Mara? Or Laline?”

  “Tulphana!” Irene raised a hand and answered.

  “Oh, yes. Thank you, dear. Silly me—I’m not as well-read as most others, so I’m afraid I don’t know much about Blessings.”

  Until recently, neither did Niko. While he did know the names and titles of all twenty-four Gods, Greater and Lesser, he was never particularly religious. It was only a few years ago that he began to actually read up on their doctrines and stories, particularly about Tulphana the Finality. In truth, he still didn’t really understand why a God of Death would be a patron God of Healmages nor did he understand why a God of Death also doubled as a God of Justice.

  “I’m a bit surprised, though,” Tethys said. “Didn’t your father own that big clinic in the other district? Uh, whatsitsname ... SilverRose? I thought you’d have taken over the business.”

  I didn’t deserve it.

  “I wanted to start my own clinic from scratch—rise to the top with my own skills and all.” Niko didn’t look her in the eyes. He knew he was a lousy actor.

  “Is that so? I hope you find success.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Niko heard footsteps by the door.

  “Ah, there he is.” Niko turned to see Sibeiya leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “What’s taking you so long? We almost got run over by some weird chick, yeah?”

  Following Sibeiya, Lilieth also appeared.

  “Sibeiya? Lilieth? What are you doing here? And did you just say you almost got run over?”

  “Yeah! And you said you’d be quick, so we’re here to check up on you.”

  “I was just finishing up. Oh, right, let me introduce you. Those are Sibeiya and Lilieth; they accompanied me here. And these two here are ...”

  “I’m Tethys Lytras. This is my daughter, Irene. You must be the doctor’s friends.”

  It was then that Niko noticed how wide Lilieth’s eyes had gotten. They weren’t staring at him but at Tethys and her daughter. She seemed stunned, like he had just seen a ghost.

  “... You alright?” Sibeiya’s voice was barely loud enough for Niko to hear.

  “Is something the matter, Miss?” Tethys chimed in. It was evident in her face that she’d noticed the young mage’s strange behavior.

  “Tethys ...” Lilieth said, her voice cracking.

  “Oh. Do you two, uh ... know each other?” Niko asked, although he realized quickly that that couldn’t be the case considering Tethys’ reaction.

  Lilieth took a step forward—an unsteady, weak step. Then, another. Slowly, she trudged her way to the bed, her eyes darting between the confused Irene and concerned Tethys.

  “Uh, Miss Lilieth? Is something the matter? You face looks a bit pale—”

  “Wah!”

  Irene yelped as Lilieth pulled her into a deep embrace.

  Lilieth remembered.

  She remembered the day of Irene’s birth. She remembered cradling her tiny body in her arms as she slept peacefully. She remembered thinking that she was going to do things right so that Irene would grow up healthy and happy.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Lilieth remembered a lot of things that she shouldn’t. She didn’t have the right to feel these emotions. She didn’t know these people—she’d never even met them before.

  So, why was she crying?

  “Lilieth?!” Niko called out.

  “What is she doing? Is she a friend of yours, Irene?”

  Lilieth turned to look at Tethys, her brow furrowed. She wasn’t angry, just confused.

  In those memories that didn’t belong to Lilieth, how long had it been since Tethys looked at her without disdain in her eyes?

  “I-I’m sorry,” Lilieth said, quickly letting go of Irene. “I just ...”

  “Are you okay, miss?” Irene spoke up. Her voice was so frail, so weak. Lilieth felt a pang of guilt in her heart seeing her bedridden and sick like this. Lilieth was supposed to protect Irene. She was supposed to make sure she grew up well.

  No. No! That wasn’t me!

  The young mage stood up with feet unsteady. “M-my apologies,” she stuttered out. “I, um ... I don’t know what came over me. I just ... I was reminded of someone that I, uh ...”

  “I see. I was a bit worried there,” Tethys smiled at her. “But you look like a kind person. Are you sure you’re not feeling off? I have some water if you’d like.”

  Lilieth turned away from her gaze, unable to look the woman in the eyes. Her own heart was in a turmoil of emotions.

  Where are you living now? Are you doing well? How’s our daughter?

  Are you all happy without me?

  Those are his thoughts, not mine!

  “Huh? Wait, where are you—?”

  Before she knew it, Lilieth was running out of the room, past Sibeiya who had called out to her as soon as she ran past. Running down the stairs, skipping steps, and nearly tripping on multiple instances, Lilieth reached the first floor and began running across the streets.

  She ran past concerned people as unwanted memories and emotions flooded in. Scenarios she’d never seen, moments she’d never experienced, yet all feeling so real like she’d lived them herself. It didn’t take long for her to get tired and hide in an alleyway, sitting on the ground with her back against the wall. She closed her eyes as if it would help.

  It felt wrong for her to be feeling these emotions, like she was violating something sacred, treading ground she was not permitted to tread. She took Markosh’s life, memories, and spells. By what right was she allowed to take even his precious feelings from him? This accursed memory of hers ...

  How much more was Eulalie going to defile her?

  Don’t remember.

  Don’t remember.

  Don’t remember.

  Don’t remember.

  Don’t remember.

  Stop remembering!

  “You should take a deep breath, yeah?”

  Lilieth opened her eyes to see Sibeiya sitting down beside her. While the young mage was drenched in sweat and gasping for air, Sibeiya didn’t look even the least bit tired.

  “You’re breathing too quickly,” Sibeiya continued. “Slow down, or you’re gonna pass out.”

  Lilieth didn’t even realize that she’d begun hyperventilating. Closing her eyes again, she focused on controlling her breath, her hands over her mouth. After a minute, her arms slumped to the side.

  “Why did you follow me?” she asked the desert girl.

  “Why wouldn’t I? You just bolted off out of nowhere; gave Niko and those two ladies a fright. What’s up with you?”

  Lilieth hesitated. Should she tell Sibeiya about what she did to Markosh? About the memories she stole from him?

  “... It’s nothing,” Lilieth muttered.

  Sibeiya huffed. “Whatever then. Not interested in prying.”

  The desert girl stood up.

  Lilieth grabbed Sibeiya’s arm.

  “Wait,” Lilieth said. “Stay. Keep talking to me.”

  Sibeiya looked at her, a bit shocked and undoubtedly confused.

  “We can’t keep Niko waiting, you know?”

  “I just ... I need someone to talk to.” There was a pleading in the young mage’s request.

  “Talk to? About what?”

  “Anything. It doesn’t matter what.”

  If she was left alone with the silence, the memories would return. She needed some time to calm herself down and push them away. To that end, she was grateful that Sibeiya was there.

  The desert girl looked frustrated and annoyed. She scratched her head and wordlessly sat back down next to her. Clearly, Sibeiya wasn’t pleased.

  But at least she was here.

  “I was a priestess once,” Lilieth said, “in Hesperus. It’s a village near Renapolis.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “It’s a small village. At any rate, a temple was established there, worshipping Eulalie, the Perpetuation. Do you know of her?”

  “Not much, honestly,” she replied. “Heard she’s called the ‘Artist God’; whatever that means.”

  “She’s the God of Tales, Eternity ... and Memory. She’s as old as life itself, recording history for as long as it exists to be recorded. What other Gods create or destroy, Eulalie remembers.”

  “Memory, huh?” Sibeiya said. “I would’ve thought that that one missing God would handle that domain. Sharrahs, was it?”

  Lilieth nodded. “The Harmony.”

  Psychic magic, the lost magic—it’d been over a thousand years since the Psymages disappeared, so very little remained with regards to what they were actually capable of. But one of the most common speculations was that their powers affected memories.

  “It’s common for the Gods’ domains to intersect,” Lilieth explained. “For instance, Tulphana the Finality and Rohgi the Silence are both considered Gods of Death. Hestareia the Valor and Mara the Altruism also both share the image of being the defender of all life.”

  “That’s all so complicated. And there are twenty-four of these guys? How do you people memorize all that? Ah, well. You, it’s obvious. Perfect memory. Now that I think about it, that’s kinda cheating, no?”

  “It’s really not that hard to remember them, Sibeiya. It’s taught in almost every school. Even parents teach their children about the Gods.”

  Sibeiya shrugged. “Never went to school, and I never knew my parents.”

  Lilieth looked at her. “You didn’t?”

  “Yep. Probably ditched us somewhere and left. My brother’s the one who raised me, and he didn’t go to school either. The only God we were ever taught about was Fleiry, and that’s only because everyone and their dogs worshipped Her where I’m from.”

  Fleiry—the God of War, worshipped heavily in the northern deserts. That tracked. The innate physical strength of the Shebauno was said to have been a gift from Fleiry Herself.

  “Must be nice, no?” Sibeiya said. “To have gone to school, be taught by your parents.”

  Lilieth chuckled. “Actually, I’ve never gone to school either. And I’ve also never met my parents.”

  The desert girl turned to her, surprised. “You?”

  The young mage nodded. “My mother died when I was born, and my father left to join the Salt King’s army and fight in the demonic front, where he died. I was raised by my grandmother. And since it was decided from the start that I was going to be Hesperus’ priestess after her, there was no need to send me to school.”

  “That’s surprising. You struck me as the scholarly type.”

  “You can be scholarly even if you’ve never gone to school. My grandmother bought me lots of books, especially about religion.”

  Surprisingly, Sibeiya smiled—a rare, gentle smile. “Well, if you’re so well-read, why don’t you tell me about those Gods of yours, yeah?”

  Lilieth smiled back. “You sure you won’t fall asleep?”

  “The hell do you take me for?”

  “Someone who’d fall asleep in school, of course.” Lilieth began combing through her memories for those religious books she read so long ago. “First of all, there’s Jumel the Cultivation, God of all Gods. Surely you know of him—the ‘First Father’, usually depicted as a bearded man covered in scars. Then, there’s his counterpart, Laline the Passion—‘First Mother’, the God of Romance and Life. The two of them birthed all the other Gods, the eldest among them being Tulphana the Finality, God of Truth, Justice, and Death. By the way, did you know that in the north, Tulphana is often referred to by another name? ‘Pina-Lasahn Hatoli’. Apparently, it means—”

  Lilieth turned to see Sibeiya, who had already dozed off.

  “... I haven’t even said that much yet.”

  Still, she was grateful to Sibeiya for even offering to listen. Those memories that threatened to consume her faded away.

  In fact, she couldn’t remember who they belonged to anymore.

  “...”

  Something felt wrong. Again.

  She held her own arm in front of her.

  “...Enhance Strength I.”

  Nothing happened.