The Forsaken Call

by Jamie Murray

  Baloric closed the door and crossed his arms as he leaned over the railing. "Johanna?" he called.

  "What?" she asked, popping up from behind the desk and looking slightly embarrassed.

  "I know you were listening," he said.

  "It was private!" Louisa scolded her.

  "It was also really interesting!" Johanna said, coming out from behind the desk and looking up at them. She put her hands on her hips. "Were you ever going to tell me who he was?"

  "We would have told you just now, but you already know," Baloric pointed out.

  "I can't believe he's been alive all this time," Johanna said. "It changes everything. Does he have the stones?"

  "He does, but they aren't glowing," Louisa responded.

  "So what now?" Johanna asked. Then she lowered her voice. "Did you tell him about Walden?"

  "No," Baloric said. "He's lost all his memory. If I told him now, it wouldn't mean anything."

  "Lost his memory?" Johanna said. "How did that happen?"

  "He doesn't know," said Baloric. "He's lost his memory."

  "I heard that part," Johanna said. Then her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  "Yeah, you can finish packing up this place so we can get out of here before they knock it down," Louisa said, tapping her foot.

  Johanna looked disappointed with the response. "I meant help with Jameson."

  "I know what you meant," said Louisa. "But you were supposed to have your share finished yesterday. You haven't even looked in the basement yet!"

  "It's locked!" Johanna whined.

  "That lock is a hundred years old," said Louisa. "Just break it."

  "Fine," said Johanna. "I guess I'll go clean out an old basement while you guys hang out with the Prophesized One."

  "Exactly," Baloric smiled. He turned to Louisa as Johanna marched out of the room. "He's probably asleep by now."

  "I'm ready," Louisa nodded.

  The two went into the room where Jameson was lying on the bed. He was apparently asleep, so they approached the bed and carefully stood beside him. Louisa sat down on the bed as Baloric knelt on the floor, his eyes already closed, concentrating on the task ahead.

  "Where are you going to start?" Louisa whispered.

  "Whatever's easiest," Baloric answered.

  "That's a good place to start," Louisa remarked.

  Baloric opened one eye and grinned, and Louisa brightened back at him. He closed his eyes again and searched through his own head to find where all the borrowed memories were stored, hoping to revive them within Jameson.

  11. I Guess I Hate Him

  Chapter 11

  Silent hours passed and, suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Baloric shot up straight and released his hold on Jameson's mind as he continued the process of restoring his memory. Louisa blinked a few times as she fell out of her trance, and turned her head to the door to find the source of the noise. They looked at each other, feeling an inexplicable fear that perhaps something was wrong.

  "Yes?" she said quietly.

  The door slowly opened and Johanna was standing there. Both Baloric and Louisa gave a sigh of relief when they saw it was only her. "How is it going?" she asked. "Have you figured anything out? What's the deal?"

  "You interrupted us, Jo," Louisa said sternly.

  "It's all right," Baloric commented, standing up. "I think I need a break anyway, and you probably do too, Louisa."

  "I'm all right," Louisa insisted as she turned to Johanna in the doorway. "What did you want?"

  "It's just…I started cleaning out the basement," she started. "And I found something that I thought you would want to see."

  Louisa looked at Baloric for confirmation.

  "Why don't you go?" Baloric urged.

  "Okay," Louisa said, since it was obvious she was curious anyway. She stood up and followed Johanna out the door, and they closed it behind them.

  "What are you doing in there?" Johanna asked as they proceeded to the stairs.

  "We're trying to revive his memories," Louisa responded. "Well, Daigh is. I'm not doing much."

  "Isn't there anything I can do?" Johanna said.

  "Is that what this is about?" Louisa said, stopping and putting her hands on her hips.

  "No, not at all!" Johanna said. "I really do have something I need to show you."

  Louisa sighed and went down the stairs with Johanna. They walked around the small in to a door in the ground that was already opened up. The light from outside was enough to illuminate most of the basement, so they simply descended the stairs.

  "It's dusty in here," Louisa observed.

  "Well obviously," said Johanna. "I don't think anyone's been down here in years."

  "What did you want to show me?" Louisa said.

  Johanna walked to the corner of the room where it was the darkest. She gestured her hand for Louisa to come over where there was a large sheet draped over a flat, rectangular object. Louisa peered at it thoughtfully for a moment, and then her eyes widened as if she had suddenly remembered what was in front of her. She looked to Johanna for a moment, and Johanna only nodded for her to look.

  Louisa leaned in and took the sheet firmly in her hand. Cautiously at first, she began to pull the sheet down. As soon as it began to fall, she gave it a strong tug to remove it all at once. The sheet fell to the floor and a layer of dust lofted into the air.

  Louisa and Johanna both coughed as they waited for the dust to settle. Once it did, it became apparent that the object was exactly what Louisa had originally assumed it was; a large and very old painting.

  "This must be almost thirty years old," she said, exhaling deeply as she knelt down in front of it. The painting was turned on its side, displaying the image of three people; clearly a mother and a father with a small child standing in front of them. All three of them had dark hair and similar features so it would be clear to even those who didn't know them that they were a family, and a proud one at that.

  "He looks so young," Johanna commented, pointing vaguely at the boy.

  "That's because he is," Louisa laughed quietly. "I saw this painting once. It was a very, very long time ago."

  "You've seen it?" Johanna said, sounding surprised.

  "We came down here once," Louisa responded. "I had completely forgotten." She rested her chin in her palm, shaking her head slightly as she looked at the image of the trio, at a loss for words.

  "I thought you might want to see it," said Johanna once the silence became uncomfortable for her.

  "I did," Louisa said. "I do. Thank you."

  "There're more," Johanna said.

  "More?" Louisa repeated. "More what?"

  "Paintings," Johanna replied.

  "Where?" Louisa said, standing up and glancing haphazardly around the room.

  "Behind it."

  Johanna took hold of the frame and leaned it towards her. She checked what was behind it and then carefully began to slide the massive painting to the side so the next one in line was visible. Louisa nearly gasped out loud when she saw what was within the frame. Though it was caked with dust, she knew right away it was the same boy from the first picture, except he was considerably older. Perhaps in his mid teens, he was smiling only slightly and his hair was nearly shoulder length. He did not so much resemble his father from the previous painting, but he bore a striking resemblance to his mother.

  The painting was on its side, so Louisa turned her head to see the correct angle. She touched the image's cheek and moved her finger across it slowly and deliberately, wiping a trail of dust off as she went. After she stood up straight again, she looked at Johanna.

  "Put a pony-tail on him, and he could be you," she remarked, her voice shaking.

  "I thought so too," Johanna said.

  "Strange how those things happen," Louisa said. "Perhaps I'm just looking too hard."

  Johanna bit her lip and stared at the painting. Then, feeling quite bold, she stated, "Louisa, I know Walden is my father.
"

  Louisa's eyes stayed fixed on the boy for a bit before she finally faced Johanna. "How?"

  "Baloric accidentally told me a few years back," Johanna said. "He tried to pull it back and made up a dumb excuse, but I figured it out myself. Besides, just look at him."

  "Coincidence," Louisa insisted.

  "Also," Johanna said. "This one time. Years ago, before Baloric had even let it slip and when Felix and Tina still lived with us. I heard you and him talking in your room and you said you wanted to leave because every time you looked at me, you saw him and you couldn't bear it anymore. I didn't understand, but I figured it out."

  Louisa crossed her arms and turned back to the painting.

  "It's all right," Johanna said. "You don't have to keep it a secret anymore."

  "I'm sorry," Louisa said, shaking her head. "I just always thought Walden wouldn't want you to know."

  Johanna nodded and gave an exasperated sigh. Finally, she clapped her hands and apathetically said, "There are a few more, and I'm sure you want some time with them, so I'll just head out!"

  She started to leave, but Louisa stopped her. "Why are you leaving?" she almost demanded. "You just said you knew he was your father! Even if he wasn't, you always considered him as part of your family before that, so don't you miss him too?"

  "Of course I miss him," Johanna said. "But I don't love him. In fact…I guess I hate him."

  "Why?"

  "Every reason and more," Johanna said, holding her hand up to count on her fingers. "He broke every promise he ever made to me. He lied to me my whole life about who I was and where I belonged! He would bring back money, saying he had a job in Market City, but he was really stealing it from nobles and Ailyth. Everything he ever did for me was out of guilt or selfishness, but never because he loved me. Sure, I wouldn't mind having him around again, but I'm not torn up that he's not. After all, that's the way it always was before."

  "I'm sorry you feel that way," said Louisa. "But it's really not like that at all. I knew Walden very well, and everything he did was for the benefit of people he cared for. And I asked him once if he would ever tell you if he was your real father. And do you know what he said?"

  "Of course not."

  "He said that he was going to tell you when it was the right time. He just never got that chance. You should rethink how you feel about him. He loved you very much, and wanted to spend more time with you but…" Louisa trailed off. "But he just couldn't."

  Johanna didn't reply. She only stood, her eyes still on Walden's painting.

  "And what you overheard," Louisa went on. "About me not wanting to stay here with you. I didn't mean to say something like that. I was still overwhelmed. I think a piece of me always will be. It was the first time I had experienced something like that…and I wish I hadn't said what you heard."

  "Did you only come to take care of me because I look like him?"

  "I came to take care of you because you needed someone," Louisa said. "Not because of who you look like or who your father was. It was the right thing to do. Do you regret me coming to you?"

  "No," Johanna answered immediately. "I'm glad you came. You're the only friends I've ever had. Actually, you have been a lot like a mother to me since I've never really had one." Johanna paused and rethought her statement. "A very…confused and… strange mother, but still a mother."

  "If I'm the mother, then Baloric is the father?" Louisa said, looking amused.

  "Not so much," Johanna answered. "More like a bizarre friend who comes by every once and a while to visit and makes sure there aren't any monsters destroying the town."

  "Wow, that's surprisingly accurate," Louisa commented.

  "Yeah…" Johanna said, hugging her arms.

  Louisa observed her body language. "Is there something about Daigh?"

  "About Baloric?" Johanna said. "What do you mean? Something? Like what?"

  "That's what I'm asking you," Louisa said with a slight smile.

  "I don't know!" Johanna said, her cheeks turning red.

  "Oh my," said Louisa, starting to laugh and covering her mouth. "How long has this been going on?"

  "How long as what been going on?" Johanna demanded, putting her hands on her cheeks as they burned up. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

  "You like him," Louisa concluded.

  "No way!" Johanna said.

  "Yes you do," Louisa said. "I can tell. Jo, that is—" Louisa stopped and tried to find the right word but, when she couldn't, she only said, "I have no idea what it is! It's just weird!"

  "I never said I liked him!" Johanna said, stomping her foot.

  They were about to continue their bickering when they both stopped at the sound of footsteps circling the inn to where the latches opened up into the yard. Johanna looked fiercely at Louisa, as if daring her to say anything, but Louisa only continued to giggle as Baloric came into view, crouching down so he could see them.

  "What are you two doing?" he asked. "Without fail, if you two are left alone, you always start yelling."

  "Did you hear what we were yelling about?" Louisa laughed, but Johanna hit her on the shoulder.

  "No…" Baloric said, looking at her suspiciously as he eyed Johanna with her bright red face. "But maybe that's a good thing."

  "It is!" Johanna insisted.

  "So what are you looking at?" Baloric asked as he stepped into he basement as well, holding up his hand to form a small ball of light that filled the entire room.

  "These here," Louisa said, gesturing towards the paintings leaning against the wall.

  "Looks just like Walden," Baloric said, turning his head to the side to see the picture the correct way.

  "That's because it is," Louisa said, putting her hands on her hips.

  "He looks young," Baloric continued.

  "That's because he is," Louisa said, sounding exasperated.

  "That's what you two are looking at down here?" Baloric said.

  "Yes, is that a problem?" Louisa said.

  "No, not really," said Baloric. "It just seems a little weird."

  "Why is it weird?" questioned Johanna.

  "Well, they're pictures of Walden," said Baloric. "Shouldn't you take them upstairs and clean them off and everything? It's really the only thing we have that has an image of him."

  "That's a good point," Louisa said almost directly to Johanna. "We should take them with us when we go to Market City."

  "We have to pack lightly," Johanna reminded her.

  "We'll make room," Louisa said.

  "Let me finish cleaning first and I'll be the judge of that," Johanna said.

  "All right, take your time," said Louisa as she guided Baloric back to the stairs. "And this time don't bother us! We're doing very important work!"

  "I thought you said Baloric was doing everything," said Johanna, sticking out her tongue.

  "I'm supporting him!" Louisa said. "Now be quiet or I'll tell him about what we discussed."

  "Don't!" Johanna said.

  "What did you discuss?" said Baloric.

  "Nothing, nothing," Louisa said as they got to the top of the small stairway. "Jo only described you as a weird friend who stops by every once and a while to kill monsters."

  "Isn't that what I am?" Baloric laughed a little.

  "Whatever!" Johanna shouted.

  Louisa gave Baloric his starting push towards the entrance of the inn. "Do you know what Jo also told me?"

  "No, what's that?"

  "She told me that you told her that Walden is her father."

  "She did, did she?" said Baloric as he began to open the door. "Well. It was an accident."

  "I know."

  "The kid deserves to know who her father is, too."

  "She's not a kid, Baloric!" Louisa said as she slammed the door shut so he couldn't walk into the inn. "She's a grown woman! You have to see her as that instead of always viewing her as that girl we first met all those years, all right?"

  "Whoa, all right," said Baloric, a lit
tle taken aback at Louisa's seemingly random outburst.

  Louisa let the door go and Baloric opened up a little more cautiously.

  "So is Jameson still sleeping?" she asked.