A Story For The Ages

Part Two: Regaining Memories

Written By: Armina Qi Saxton

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own anything related to or similar to Gaia Online, this is a story made for fun.

Prologue: Found But Still Lost

The days after Christmas were uneventful to say the least, with the last songs of the season being sung and the last snow falling for the year. Most everything had calmed down for the time being, with only a small handful of drunken reports being made. There were few that did not look past the cold weather and melting snow to spend time with those in the family, instead staying indoors and staring blankly out into the open air. Still, it was peaceful with the snow blanketing all of Gaia and many enjoying the last few days of the old year before it lapsed into the new one.

Snowmen could be seen doting the land, snow angels drifting between each of these small wonders. Abandoned snowball fights lead into homes that held a promise of hot chocolate and marshmallows. Sleders found hills and slopes to slide down, merrily walking back up these same hills and slopes despite being cold and out of breath. Ice skaters lined around Bass'ken Lake and the Port of Gambino, all testing new ice-skates that were only days old and ready to be tried out. There were countless others that were just as happy walking down the unpaved roads between the cities and towns, watching as the last bit of Christmas festivities would be soon replaced by New Years fireworks and resolutions being forgotten.

There was one resolution that had not been forgotten, nor did it wait for the first of the years to begin. It held fast in a man that held onto his son's hand as they moved from the west-side entrance of Barton, moving quickly past the snowmen and snow angels that were fading into distant memories. Instead of marveling at another's creation, the man ignore them as much as he ignored his son's lagging. The boy stared after the snowmen, not even a hint of memory being remembered at snowmen or the thoughts of making a new one. He just went where the man went, moving as fast as his legs could.

"Where are we going?" He asked the man, plainly not knowing where he was being led to. It was as though he was being lead blind into a place he had no memory of. It was only when the man heard the question did he slow down, moving his head side to side to see how many people were around and how many would know who they were. It was futile to think that anyone wouldn't recognize the man or the boy, not even those that could spot them a mile away. They were known throughout Gaia and all of her Territories, simply as mere survivors if that much.

And they would recognize by more then sight alone, but by name. The boy, looking as though he was no more then the age of nine, held the name of Gino Gambino, a name thought dead since Halloween and perhaps longer then such. The man pulling the boy along, looking as though he did not want to be seen, answered to Johnny K. Gambino, someone who all had felt for during the days prior when he had finally found the son that he now would keep closer then before. A son without memories or the knowledge of who the man was that called himself his father, or anything that surrounded him.

"I don't know yet," Johnny said, looking around again. There were many Gaians out that day, more then he had expected to be out. Some did not take notice of him, others plainly looked at him and kept walking, a few whispers here and there about how a parent should take care of his son. The rest smiled warmly and walked on, almost as though they were smiling at the child rather then the father. "You shouldn't be out in the cold for this long. You've been out in the cold long enough."

"I'm fine. It's not that could out," Gino retorted. As soon as he said that, a shiver went through his body, a shiver that his father felt in his hands. Johnny stopped walking completely, turning to face his son as though he was seeing him for the first time. He held the boy's hands in both of his owns, frowning at the touch of them although his own hands were just as cold.

"Your hands are like ice, colder then they should be. I need to get you warmed up." He looked up towards the north, where the Reclamation Hub sat. It was a place that few into the Reclamation Facility, filtering out things that shouldn't get into the already tainted water that swirled inside the Facility. He had always been surprised that anything could survive in the murky depths, especially the fish that countless Gaian's claimed to have caught in it.

Pulling Gino with him once again, he made his way towards the Reclamation Hub, perhaps a better hiding spot then staying around the Facility and the surrounding areas. It wasn't a long walk, not even a five minute journey to where the pipes went underground for almost a full mile before resurfacing at the edge of the Facility to dump waste and other things inside of it. Johnny put Gino near the pipes, ordered him to crouch down low enough so others wouldn't see him, before he walked away towards the few trees around and had low enough branches for him to reach up and snap old and ice worn branches off of. He wasn't a tall man, nor was he strong enough to get the much thicker branches, but he got enough from the low-hanging branches and underneath the snow. this would give him enough to start a fire, a small one at the least, if he could manage it.

During the course of the last two months, Johnny had cursed himself for not having a lighter, if not at least a box of matches, with him on the occasion of making fires to keep warm. He had to rub several sticks together in order to light one the hard way, if he could get one started at all. It was harder, still, to make one with the branches of trees covered in snow and some with ice, the ground as cold and damp as it were. Even with the snow moved out of the way and branches arranged in a way that he could at least make a small fire, it was near impossible to light the sticks. It took a good ten minutes, maybe just a little bit longer, for the first flicker of a fire to start, before the rest of the rest of the branches caught and the flames slowly started to burn. It wasn't perfect, nor would it last long, but to would be enough for one person to get his hands warmed from the cold.

"It's not much, but it will do. It won't last long, so hurry up," Johnny said, beckoning his son to come over to the tiny flames. Gino stumbled to his feet, moving to the fire and kneeling down beside the branches that were sitting near him. "Just keep adding these to the fire when they start getting low. It will help."

"What about you? Shouldn't you get warm too?" Gino asked, looking up at his father with a hint of worry in this eyes. Johnny smiled as he stepped back, intent on keeping his son warm rather then himself.

"Don't worry about me. You just sit there for now and get yourself as warm as possible," He said with a shake of his head. The sound of snow crunching that came from towards the Reclamation Facility made him turn his head, his eyes falling upon a familiar stranger that he had not seen in several days. He grimaced at a passing thought, shuddering at what might be said between old friends and old memories. "I'll be right here."

Johnny walked only a few feet away from his son, turning his head slightly over his shoulder to make sure the boy stayed by the crackling fire and kept it alive as best as he could. Gino watched his father walk the few feet to where the stranger now stood, a father's and a son's eyes meeting before the son's gaze broke away and moved down to the fire in front of him. Johnny forced a smile upon his lips, turning his own gaze back in front of him and stood just a half of a foot away from the man that stared right past him and to the boy that sat silently as he broke a small twig in half.

Both of these men knew each other, even before one found himself out on the same land he was trying to survive on. They had known each other long before things time, when they were younger and had more then a few cares in the world. Everything seemed to have crumbled out from under one of them, the man moving his line of sight to the man that stood in front of him. He could see the strain in his friend's eyes, a strain that told him he knew that everything was not okay and that the last several days events had put more of a toll on his mind then what he was letting on.

"You need to find him a home to stay in," Edmund said, nodding towards Gino. "He can't be wandering the streets like this, not when there is so much that can be done about it. It's bad enough you do it.

"And where do you suggest I take him? To the orphanage?" Johnny gestured towards Durem, where there were more then a few places that he would rather not even think about. "I'll never see him again if I take him there. I've heard more then a few tales."

"At least he'd be warm and have something to eat. Look at him. He's starving," Edmund pressed, nodding again towards Gino. The other didn't have to look at his son to know that it was the truth, even though Gino had always been small for his age. Even with food crammed down his throat, the weight never seemed to stay on for more then a day or two. Now, with little to no food available for hours, he seemed to be smaller then he remembered him being.

"Edmund, I know that," Johnny said, turning around to watch his son. Gino gingerly placed half of a branch upon the dieing fire, careful not to put out the last of the flames. He knew he was being watched, but kept his head down and hands above the fire that could only warm so much of his exposed skin. "I'm doing the best that I can with little I have, but I am not going to let him out of my sight again. It nearly killed me when I couldn't find him."

"I know it did," Edmund said, placing a hand upon his friend's shoulder. "A lot of people in Gaia sympathize with you, now that they see you trying everything you can to keep Gino warm and far from hungry. But there is only so much that can be done to keep him happy."

"I know there is, but I am not going to abandon him again," He said in a soft voice and a trying smile as Edmund lowered his hand. "I did it so many times before, and I am going to stay with him this time. I won't leave him. Not now. Not without his memories." He turned towards Edmund with a determined look on his face. "He needs me, more then ever. How can I let him down again?"

"Giving him a warm bed and a hot meal isn't letting him down. It's saving his life. I know you don't want to lose him again, but there isn't any other option you have, other then to let him live out in the cold." Edmund's face changed slightly, becoming less serious and more relaxed. "At least try to find him some place to stay."

Johnny didn't respond for a minute, knowing the impact of putting his son into a warm home, even if it were only for a few hours. It would give Gino a place to stay, to rest, to regain the little strength that he had in himself. Staying out in the cold drained him of all that he had, his pale face looking more ghostly then the snow beneath his knees. What was left was all that he could muster to at least stay awake enough to get to the next meal or to the place where father and son would spend the night. It wasn't the best life to live, but at least it was something.

"I'll think about him going somewhere, even if it is only for a night. I can't promise anything, okay?" Johnny said with a sigh, his hands moving along his arms to keep the cold away from them.

"As long as he gets more then a small fire," Edmund said," Johnny, take care of him, because you've been given a second chance with your son. You may not deserve it, but it is a second chance.

He nodded, as Edmund turned and walked back towards the Reclamation Facility. He knew that this was a second chance to mend things with Gino, to make everything that was wrong before right, and to try to have a lasting relationship with a boy that he thought was dead. At least it was something, to have a second chance on life, a second chance on everything that he had thought was lost. It was something, he knew, and he wasn't going to mess it up this time. Not now, when he had everything back that he could ever want in life.

He was, even without all the gold and fame he once had only months prior, the richest man in Gaia.

****

Everything was changed now, forces from above and below working silently together towards one goal. The wheels of fate had already been put into motion, long before anyone realized that they were caught inside a trap they couldn't get out of. These same twists of endless sunlight and moonlight, the ones that held Gaia together, the same ones that had given so much, would soon break the land apart. It would be split into three groups, two opposing each other while the third remained neutral throughout the short-lived war.

The first flames of battles wouldn't be seen yet, not for several months at the most or even know that the moments leading up to them would be some of the most memorable. Still, there were those that could feel the tenseness in the air, the crackling in the wind, the darkened mists from the coast. Not many could sense the approaching danger, not until it landed right upon them, but there were those that knew something was bound to happen soon. They could tell by the same forces that held Gaia and who would ultimately tear it apart.

Perhaps that was why those that had more then an inkling were looking over their shoulders, watching the dancing shadows play tricks on their minds. They saw what others could not see, the things that they had been told were only figments of their imaginations. It was the shadows upon shadows, as though there was more to the dark nights then what they saw out of the corners of their eyes. Perhaps that was why they were more prepared for the events that would unfold in front of Gaia and her inhabitants, much sooner then they expected.

Sooner then they knew of.

****

The sun had barely started to turn into the mid-day and already Gino Gambino was hungry. He had eaten only an hour before, the small meal consisting of three pieces of stale bread, a green apple, and a handful of snow to wash the food down with. It was more then what the man ate, which was only a single piece of the same bread the boy had eaten. He had pushed all but that one piece of stolen food into his hands and told him to eat it without word. It wasn't much, he had said, so it would have to do for the time being. There wouldn't be much of it until he got a chance to find more somewhere else, even if he had to steal it again.

Now the same man, who had so willingly risked being thrown into jail for taking one of life's necessities for his own son, sat propped up against a tree, his head leaning against the trunk and his eyes closed. He slept as though he had not slept in days and most likely hadn't; with a child that had not one memory from his past, it was hard to stay asleep for long. The same child that stood several feet away, watching the man sleep with little interest. He wanted to turn around and walk to the city, to where there were more people to let himself be lost in and be far away as possible from the man. But the longer he stood there, the harder it was to walk away from him.

Gino watched him sleep soundly, confident that he could make a getaway now and wouldn't even be missed for at least an hour, maybe more if possible. If he were to leave, the thoughts of what this man would do to himself would only make him feel sick to his stomach. There was something about this man that made him stay rather then leave for parts unknown in this land, something that kept him rooted to where he was. Perhaps a faint memory that he didn't remember, or a feeling that told him that this man was truly who he said he was, or even the fact that the poor soul had lost his true son years ago and was living a feverish fantasy through the boy. Whatever it was, he stayed there, waiting for more then just a sign of remembrance.

He knelt down, still watching the man intently as though he was watching for a momentary lapse in the sleep. The boy couldn't help but see a slight resemblance in the two of them, a little faint but still there. The deep purple eyes that stared out into a world that was waiting so desperately for another mistake, the blond hair that gently moved in the wind that brought the cold air, and the small, unnoticeable features on the face that showed a smile that had to be forced. Those same things that were on the man, were on the boy; a striking resemblance that many could see and put to memory but the boy could not. It was his tainted memory that he couldn't remember this man, he guessed, and no matter how much he tried, he never found anything in his damaged mind to put these resemblances to any recent memories that were before Christmas.

But he had to smile at the new memories that were forming in his mind, the ones that he didn't need to try and think about without the headaches. The man obviously was trying to be a father to him, a father that he either didn't remember or a man that was trying to make up for a loss that he had suffered. It was hard, trying to do what he was doing with the little things that he had available to him without asking for anyone's help but he was doing it as best as he knew how. Gino saw him struggle to keep himself together when he had this very same child to look after and to keep warm as best as he could. It was enough for now, perhaps, but eventually it wouldn't be. Things would have to change, for better or for worse.

Gino stood up, a shiver going over his body as he rubbed his hands along his arms. A cold wind went past him, his frail body already beyond freezing. There was no way he could attempt to make a fire by himself nor was there any place he could go to get his hands warmed that he wouldn't have to travel several miles to do so. The closest thing was the man, who didn't seem to stir from his sleep even with the coldness around him. He hated to wake him up just to get himself warmed, but it was the only thing he could do to stop shivering. He walked quietly over to the man, standing in front of him for a moment, watching, waiting, listening to the man softly inhale and exhale with every breath that he took.

He sat down next to the man, careful not to wake him yet moved so that he could instantly feel the warmth from him. He sat there for a moment, without word, just watching him sleep, wishing that his own was just as serene as the man's. It was only when Gino got close to him, even from a slightly farther distance then he was now, did he feel safe from the harshness of the wild world. It was in this same safety that he found a certain comfort in knowing that there was someone out there that cared for him, despite all memories lost. It was something, at least, to know this.

Gino leaned his head against the man's arm, moving slightly closer to him fro the warmth. He stirred at the touch of the boy's arm wrapping itself around his own, his eyes fluttering open at the subtle movements next to him. He looked down to see his son huddling against him from the cold, face nearly buried in his sleeve. Smiling down at him, the man ran his free hand through the soft hair that laid messy on his arm. Gino's head snapped back, his eyes going wide when he realized that his few, slight movements had caused the man to wake.

"I'm sorry," He stammered, shrinking back as though he was waiting for something to be said to him. There were no harsh words, no slap on the wrists for something done wrong, no insults thrown down at him. Instead, the soft smile on the man's lips only softened more, his eyes looking happy at the mere fact that the boy was this close to him.

"Lay your head back down. It's okay," the man said gently, his voice firm but caring as he placed his head arm around the boy's shoulders. Laying his head upon the man's chest, Gino moved closer to him and closed his eyes. It felt good to have another's touch upon him, a shield to protect him from the climate of the world, a safeguard from those that might harm him.

"Where are we going to sleep tonight?" Gino asked. It was an innocent question, one that he wondered himself since they had left the streets of Barton that morning. They had been lucky that last few nights, having found places to hide in until the day broke and they could wander out without being noticed. They wouldn't' be lucky like that again, not with so many people now watching them from a distance; if they could find a roof over their heads in the city, or even further away, then they would be fine.

"I don't know, son. I'll find us a place to go tonight, so don't you worry about it," He said quietly, resting his cheek upon the boy's head. His voice lacked the firmness it had before, now holding an edge of despair. He still held that smile, keeping his face calm even though his voice said otherwise. If he couldn't find a place to hide from the elements, and from prying eyes, then they would have to brace the coldness together, on the edge of the civilization.

"Can I ask you something else?" Gino inquired, opening his eyes.

"What is it?"

"Why can't I remember anything? Why did I lose my memory?" He asked. Those questions made the man lift his head up, his smile fading and a faraway look crossed his face. There was no straight answer he could give his son, not when he didn't even know himself. It was always thought that the first sings of memory trouble stemmed from the end of the Olympics, but after the mansion had been blown up, and Gino lost in the aftermath, it crossed his mind that this had caused more then the memory loss. Perhaps the trauma from the explosion had caused everything to fall into place, even if it wasn't the root of the problem.

"It is a mistake that went out of control. Our home was destroyed by this mistake and that's why you don't have any memories. That's why we are forced to live like this." The man's voice died with those words, the sound of his heart pounding echoed in Gino's ear. He was scared, that much he could tell by the beating of his heart and the sound of his voice. What he was scared of, he didn't know. Whatever it was, it had long since been a part of a troubled past that he couldn't remember.

"Will I get my memories back?" The boy wondered, more to himself then to the man. He didn't expect an answer, or for the man to even acknowledge that he had said something.

"I hope so," He answered, his voice barely above a whisper. It was a wish that he wanted more then anything to come true, a wish that sat just beyond his reach. It was as though there was a string that kept pulling it further and further away, until it was just a speck of dust on the horizon. One day, he knew, it would come true and old memories would resurface with the new ones.

But that day wouldn't be any time soon.

Until Next Time