by Jamie Murray
"Exactly," Meg said.
Jameson gave an exasperated sigh and leaned back so he was looking straight at the ceiling.
"Are you going to go talk to him?" Meg asked finally.
"I don't know," Jameson answered. "He gave me a weird feeling."
"Isn't that why you want to talk to him?"
"No, it's a different kind of weird feeling. I almost felt like—well, not like I know him, but more like… I've seen him before. Well, not even that. There was just some kind of feeling I got when I saw him…maybe I haven't seen him, I've just had the feeling before. Am I making any sense at all?"
"No," Meg admitted.
"So what do I do?"
"I think you should talk to him," Meg said. "I'll take you over to his house."
Jameson didn't move from his seat. "I think I will talk to him," he said finally.
"Good," said Meg.
"But I want to go by myself," he added.
Meg only faltered for a second, and then cheerfully said, "That's fine!"
"You're not angry?"
"Why would I be angry?"
"I appreciate your offer, but I think I have to do this on my own."
"That's all right," said Meg. "Don't worry about me. I have a lot of work I have to get done anyway! Let me just draw you a map of how to get there."
"Don't worry about it," Jameson said, standing up and moving towards the door. "I'll find my way. I want to take a look around Market City anyway. Who knows? Maybe on my way over there, someone will recognize me."
Meg watched him open the door. "You'd come back, though, wouldn't you?"
Jameson looked back at her and smiled. "Of course," he said.
She nodded as he closed the door behind him.
6. He Didn't Know You
Chapter 6
The truth of the matter was simple; Jameson was worried that he did know Baloric. Not only was he worried about what Baloric would say, but he was afraid of being associated with someone like him. Though he was a great man, Jameson didn't know if they were friends or enemies. It's true; Jameson had learned the day before that he was good at fighting or, at least, good at disarming people, so it wouldn't be too farfetched that he was a friend of Baloric's.
However, Meg never mentioned anything about Baloric having partners or friends. Of course, it could have slipped her mind, but Jameson had the sinking feeling that Baloric was not someone he wanted to just walk up to and strike up a conversation while he had no memory. After all, if it turned out that they were enemies, then Baloric would probably kill him.
Jameson thought maybe he was being overdramatic, but he was starting to get afraid. Despite this, he still found himself standing in the middle of the place where the chaos had been where a large group of men were working to repair the damage left by the Forces. As he looked around, he started to realize just how makeshift the city was because of the frequent attacks from the Forces and he wondered just how long the residents had between assaults.
He asked one of the workers where he would be able to find Baloric and he was pointed to the street he had seen Baloric walk down earlier in the day. It made enough sense and Jameson speculated he could have easily found Baloric's house on his own, but he found himself lingering and procrastinating out of fear of discovering Baloric as an enemy.
Of course, there was always the chance that he didn't know Baloric at all. Jameson had a strange feeling about the garden the day before, but even as he wandered in it, he didn't discover anything about himself. Though, a garden couldn't exactly answer questions the way Baloric potentially could. If he could just gather enough courage and speak to the man then he could very well learn about his past before the end of the day.
It was something he thought he wanted, but as he stood in front of the house he presumed was Baloric's, he found himself even more hesitant than before. The hesitation wasn't from fear anymore; in reality, he was afraid of who he might be.
The battle inside his head was killing him. He wanted to know, but he didn't want to know. He tried to weigh out which he wanted more, and finally decided he would just walk away.
As he turned his back to the house, he immediately regretted his decision. He walked more quickly, trying not to look back as he passed through the worksite, through the market and then back to Meg's house. A long time had gone by, and if he told Meg he hadn't gone to see Baloric, he knew she would shake her head at him and insist he go back.
Though Jameson didn't like lying to her, he was too afraid to find out the truth about himself. So, as he pushed the door open again, he had a whole story ready to tell her when she asked.
"Back already?" she said. "I expected you to be gone until it got dark!"
Jameson didn't say anything as he closed the door.
Meg stood up and waited for him to give her any information, and when he was silent, her face fell. "Oh, bad news, then?" she asked, sounding concerned. "He didn't know you? Is that why you're back so soon?"
"Pretty much," Jameson said, and he felt bad as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he tried to hide it from her.
"It's all right," she said. "At least we know one more thing about you. You don't know Baloric!"
"I guess," Jameson said.
"Well, that's too bad," said Meg as she went back to her sewing. "I thought for sure we would find out more than that. Here I was all disappointed that I couldn't go along with you, but now I'm glad I didn't or else it would have just been a waste of time."
Meg stopped talking and looked back up at Jameson.
"I didn't mean it like that!" she exclaimed.
"Like what?" Jameson said, surprised.
"I didn't mean to say you wasted your time," she explained. "It's good you met Baloric. We know one more place we don't have to look."
"I didn't take it like that," Jameson assured her.
"Well, good," Meg said. "And I want you to know I'm still optimistic. I know we'll find out who you are sooner or later."
"Thanks, Meg."
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I guess I'm just tired. I guess the excitement kind of drained me. I expected him to be able to tell me something."
"Me too," Meg said, putting her hands on her hips. "If you want to turn in early, I don't mind. I still have some work to do before I go to bed, though."
"I think I will," Jameson said, moving towards the stairs. "In the morning, maybe I'll help with the reconstruction. That creature knocked over two or three buildings."
"Yeah," Meg said, her tone noticeably changing as her mind wandered back to the Forces. "I'll bet they'd really appreciate your help."
Jameson nodded and climbed the stairs. He didn't know if Meg could tell he was lying to her, but he was going to try not to think about it anymore as he got changed for bed. He dropped down into it and couldn't help but think about the Forces again. It was so terrifying but, at the same time, strangely familiar. He didn't like the thought of being associated with demons or someone who slays them. He was sure Baloric was a good person, but if he was in such a dangerous line of work, Jameson wasn't sure how happy he was about maybe being in a similar position.
Jameson took off the necklace and placed it gently on the table beside the bed where he always put the trinket. It didn't look any different than the other times he had looked at it, though he had hoped it would glimmer or glisten to show him a hint of who he was or what to do.
7. You Look Like Him, Anyway
Chapter 7
Jameson wanted to sleep through the night so he would be prepared to help with building the next morning, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw the Forces. At one point, he finally fell asleep, though it wasn't comforting because there were flashes of images in his mind, and people screaming in his ears.
He didn't know who the people were or what the images were of, but they worried him. There was one of a bound man being pulled up off the ground by a rope around his neck, kicking his legs and turning blue as voices cried out for me
rcy. Another flash and he was underwater, unable to breathe, as a girl swam in front of him, glancing back every once and a while with an expression that showed less than concern.
Some of them were nondescript like a man falling through the ground, or lightning suddenly flashing in the sky above him. However, some of them were terrifying and felt almost painful to him just as he saw them; a boy with light hair and dark skin raised a knife and drove it into Jameson's leg, pinning him against the wall as he cried in pain. Flashes took him to a moment where someone was dying, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. All night he was searching, crying and experiencing horrible pain from the moments in his mind.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore as he sat up straight in the bed. He didn't know if these flashes were memories of his, but he was too afraid to keep them inside him. As he stood up and looked across the room, he saw Meg asleep in her own bed, and knew he shouldn't trouble her with his nightmares.
Though he didn't want to, Jameson knew he had to go see Baloric. It was almost as if his nightmares were punishing him for being too afraid to see him; as if they were showing him things he should truly be afraid of him to give some perspective. So, reluctantly, he got dressed as quickly as he could and nearly left the room without grabbing the necklace. He looked back at it sitting innocently on the table, and then picked it up.
He silently descended the stairs and crept out of the store without waking Meg. As he looked off into the distance at the darkness in front of him, he shivered and regretted not speaking to Baloric earlier in the day.
Still trying to keep his courage up, he hurried through the market, and was impressed with how much progress the workers had made in such a short amount of time. His impressed feelings did not last because he could suddenly see Baloric's house right in front of him, and had hoped there would be more time before he had to speak to him.
He took a deep breath and approached the house very slowly. A dark brown horse was tied up outside, sitting down, apparently asleep. There were still several hours until sunrise, and Jameson thought maybe it would be rude to wake Baloric up. He shook his head and told himself not to make excuses as he stood right up next to the front door and knocked lightly and quietly. Part of him hoped Baloric would hear the knock and answer the door, but most of him wished Baloric had already left.
However, he was disappointed when he heard movement inside the house. The movement was limited and it stopped after a moment, so Jameson knocked a second time. He figured that since he was there, he might as well do it.
He heard someone move inside again, and this time the movement continued. He could hear the footsteps as a person stumbled lazily in the dark to the doorway.
Jameson held his breath as the door opened very slightly and a set of eyes peered out at him.
"Baloric?" Jameson asked.
"Yes?" Baloric's voice was deep, but still somewhat boyish. Jameson knew he was older than he sounded, but he couldn't help but think he was still a teen. Something about the simple way he had responded to the question gave Jameson so many impressions right away.
Jameson exhaled. "I'm sorry for waking you up."
"It's all right," said Baloric. "Are there Forces?"
"No," said Jameson.
"Trouble?"
"No," Jameson said.
Baloric nodded his head, and then closed the door right in Jameson's face. Jameson stood in surprise for a moment, and then knocked at the door again.
He could hear Baloric sigh from inside as the door opened again. "Now is there trouble?" he asked.
"No, sir," said Jameson. "I just…I need to ask you some things."
"In the middle of the night?" Baloric said with a yawn as he opened his door wide enough for Jameson to come in.
Jameson nervously entered the house and expected it to be beautiful on the inside, but it was very simple. All it had was a table in the middle with a candle on the edge, a bed in the corner. The covers were thrown to the side, and the match was still smoking.
"What is it?" Baloric said, rubbing his eyes.
"I'm not sure," Jameson admitted.
"You'd better be sure at this time of night," said Baloric.
"It's hard to begin," Jameson said. "But I've lost my memory somehow."
Baloric raised an eyebrow and looked skeptical.
"Nothing has been familiar to me," Jameson continued. "When I saw you fight the Forces today, it seemed familiar."
"So what do you want from me?" Baloric asked.
"Could you look at me?" Jameson said. "Tell me if you know me?"
"I'm not good with faces," Baloric yawned.
"Please?" Jameson asked.
"Look," said Baloric. "I fight the Forces and that's hard enough. Sorry about your memory loss, but there's nothing I can do."
He gestured towards the door.
"But…" Jameson said slowly. "You haven't even looked."
Baloric looked up briefly for a moment, then crossed his arms and looked down again. "No," he said. "I don't know you."
"Please," said Jameson. "Will you give it a minute? I don't know who I am, and this is the first clue I've gotten in the past few days."
"Sorry I can't help you," Baloric said. "Now will you please leave now? I have some traveling to do in the morning."
"If you don't know my face," Jameson started as he fished through his pockets. "Do you know what this is?"
He pulled the necklace out and held it up for Baloric to see. Baloric was in mid yawn and immediately stopped to lean in for a closer look. He squinted as he strode up to Jameson and put his hand behind the dangling necklace. Jameson let it go and it fell into Baloric's palm as he stared closely at it.
"Is this real?" Baloric said, his voice sounding distant.
"I don't know," Jameson admitted.
"Where did you get it?" Baloric asked, looking up. His eyes were wide and almost excited, and Jameson was surprised to see him so eager.
"I don't know," Jameson repeated. "It's all I have. When I came to, this is all I was wearing, and I didn't have any memories."
"When was this?" Baloric said.
"Four…maybe five days ago?" Jameson tried.
"I felt it," Baloric looked to the floor, his hands still enclosed around the stones of the necklace. "Five days ago. I felt it. But…I didn't know…"
He squeezed the stones tightly, and then stared straight ahead of Jameson, finally giving him a close look. He started to circle him, examining him up and down very carefully. He stopped when he was standing behind Jameson and didn't say anything for a bit.
Jameson didn't know if he should turn around, but his curiosity was getting the best of him so he did. He found Baloric peering down at the stones again.
"What is it?" Jameson asked.
"These stones," said Baloric. "If they're real, then you… well, you look like him anyway."
"Look like who?" Jameson said.
"I can't be sure." Baloric waved his hand. "I'm not going to make any promises because it just doesn't make any sense."
"What doesn't make any sense?" Jameson said desperately.
"There is only one person who can possess these," Baloric said, pointing at the stones. "And I knew him a long time ago. Oddly enough, you happen to look just like him."
"Maybe I'm him," Jameson said excitedly.
"That's impossible." Baloric shook his head.
"Why?" Jameson asked, suddenly nervous instead of excited.
"He's dead," Baloric replied. "I was there when he died."
Jameson backed away and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been thrilled to hear Baloric tell him who he was, but now he was afraid it was just an unfortunate line of coincidences.
"The thing is," Baloric said. "When he died, he took these stones along with him. But now they're back, and you bear a striking resemblance to him."
"Is there a chance he could have survived?" Jameson said. "Did you bury him?"
"No," said Baloric. "He disappeared. He was devoured
by the Forces, in a manner of speaking. Devin swallowed him up within his dimension, and promised us he was dead." Baloric kept his eyes on the stone and then asked, "How old are you?"
"I'm not sure," Jameson replied.
"And what's your name?" Baloric said.
"I don't know that either," Jameson said uneasily. "But the woman I'm staying with thought of a name to call me."