It is time…

I wish to see you again…

Return to me, return me.

Call to me and I will come.

The heart's true power will bring me to you.

I am love.

Remember me.

Need me.

Awaken me…

"Hey! Wake up!" The high-pitched voice of a girl broke into what must have been a dream. Like a dream it faded and disappeared on waking, for if dreams stayed forever there would never be room for reality. So it must have been a dream but…if that was the dream, where was the reality?

The young woman sat up in the woods. The woods, then, must be reality, because they were there and not fading away. There was a girl, not quite a child but not yet an adult, who must also be real. She had to be real because she was solid, which was evident by the way she was pulling on one's arm. Also, talking.

"Are you okay?" The girl asked again.

"I…" Talking apparently went both ways. "I…think so. No, not really. Maybe." What to talk about next? 'Where am I' might be appropriate, or 'who are you' or better yet 'who am I', but that might be a silly question to ask of a random person in the woods. Still, one never knows, so… "Who am I?"

The girl sat back. "You don't know?"

Ah, it was a silly question after all. "Should I? That is, if I wasn't me, would I know me? Er…" It's hard to make sense with your mind a complete blank, she figured out. "Do you know me, is what I mean."

The girl shook her head rapidly. "No. I was just taking a walk when I saw you lying there. I thought you might be lost, or hurt…maybe you hit your head?"

The woman reached up and felt her head, gingerly. There were sticks in it. No, in her hair. Not sticks as in leftover bits from sleeping in the woods, but smooth ones. Decorations. Unbroken decorations, and no bumps. "I don't think so. I just can't remember anything."

"Nothing?"

"Well, I'm talking to you, aren't I? So I guess I remember how to speak, which makes things easier." She thought for a minute. "Something…on the tip of my tongue. Not breakfast." She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to collect enough thoughts together to say something that wasn't inane. "Ren," she said finally. "It was right there."

"Ren? Is that a name?"

"Um…"

"Your name?" The girl urged.

"Good as any, I suspect." Ren stood up, carefully. Everything seemed to work properly. Arms, legs, neck, waist, check…hmm? She ran her fingers along the belt around her waist. "I'm wearing two sword sheaths," she told the girl, who was looking solemnly up at her. "Empty ones." She frowned at the things, dangling behind her. "I must have been something of an idiot before I ended up here."

"Or maybe you just dropped them somewhere? I've got it! Maybe you were fighting something that made you lose your memory?"

Ren looked around. The forest floor was undisturbed, and there were no signs of swords anywhere. "I think my idea might be closer to the mark, no offense. I'm feeling very stupid right now."

The girl stood up, brushing off her dress, then began to hover slightly, buzzing her insect like wings. Wings, Ren thought. Wings are normal, right? "I think you should come back to town with me, you can't just wander around here with no memory."

"And no weapons." Ren frowned at the general area. Something about swords was bothering her, like it was very important. She could remember the feel of the hilts in her hand, this one that way, the other this way, snap, sheathe…but the scabbards remained empty.

"What are you doing? Come on, come with me. My parents will take care of you."

"I think I should look around a bit, for my swords…" Ren started to pace in an ever-widening circle.

"Oh for pity's sake," The girl sighed. "We can find them later. You need help, and what are we going to fight between here and Domina?"

"It's important!" Ren snapped, spinning around. A little too fast; her foot caught on a stone she'd unearthed with all the pacing, and sent her sprawling back into the realm of dreams.

She woke again to a brightly lit room with pink curtains and a teapot. A big teapot. Ren closed her eyes again. Obviously, she had brought the dreams with her this time, though why she would dream about teapots she didn't know. Of course, she didn't know why she would dream about anything else either. She opened her eyes again.

"'ello," said the teapot. Ren sat up with a rush and threw her pillow at it, then scrambled out of the bed and ran for the door. Unfortunately, the door opened onto some stairs, which she hit at a bad angle and half slid down, ending up clinging to the railing at the bottom.

"There's a talking teapot up there!" she exclaimed to three startled pairs of eyes.

"Um. Yes," the girl from earlier said, then turned to the other two, probably her parents. "See? I told you she was crazy."

"Rachel!" the mother whispered loudly. "Be nice." Then she turned to Ren and helped her disentangle herself from the stairs. "I'm Jennifer," she explained, escorting the younger woman to a chair with a gentle flap of her wings. "That's my husband Mark, and you met my daughter, Rachel. The teapot belongs to us, and she's quite harmless. Carried you back from the woods, in fact, after Rachel came tearing in here looking for help."

"Oh." Ren looked at her hands for a moment. "I threw a pillow at it. Her. I suppose I should apologize."

"I'm sure she'll understand," Mark said with a grin. "We're more concerned with you really. Rachel said you seemed to be amne…"

"A little confused," Jennifer interrupted, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"A little?" Ren thought about it, but nothing came to mind. "Well, when you can't remember anything at all, there's not much to be confused about, really. Isn't that strange." She continued to look at her lap. It was covered in a pink nightdress. "Er. What happened to my clothes?"

"Teapo washed them, they're in the cupboard upstairs."

"Oh…I'll just go…change then, this is a little…"

"Pink?" asked Rachel sadly. "I know."

After apologizing to the teapot and sending it out of the room, and feeling very silly about it, Ren took her time changing. It gave her a spot to think. Not that there was much to think about. She rummaged in the bottom of the cupboards and recovered the empty sword scabbards and her hair-sticks, then sat on the bed with them. The sticks were kind of cute, they had patterns on them in red. Each one was slightly different, like they might have been runes or words in another language. If only she knew what language. Ignoring the sticks again, she focused on the scabbards. They were simply but oddly shaped, one with white leather and the other dark green, with various designs tooled into them and painted in bright colors.

"Tacky," she muttered, and reached out to trace one of the designs with a finger, only to find her hands occupied by fixing the sticks into her hair. She froze, then forced herself to relax and finish the job. Okay, one more thing remembered, however useless it might be. She had kind of wondered how those things stayed up.

Standing up, she started to buckle on the sword-belt automatically. Then she realized how ridiculous that would be, and tore it off again. Tossing it on the bed, she glared at the leather. "This is all your fault, I'm sure. Carrying weapons around probably means I was involved with something strange and violent. Otherwise, how would I end up like this?" The scabbards refused to answer. "Fine, be that way." She turned away and headed for the door.

Need me!

Awaken me!

I am love.

The voice exploded so loudly in the empty blackness of her head that it practically echoed. Ren stumbled and nearly fell down the stairs again. She pulled herself away from the top step and crawled back to the bed, where she clung to the sheets and stared at the discarded belt. "Tell me," she said, almost conversationally. "That you didn't just speak to me after all."

It remained silent. Ren sighed in relief and reached up to wipe tears from her eyes. Tears? She paused. The voice had been so strong, and yet so sad. Was I…in love with someone? So familiar, and yet…and yet, it was fading already. She grasped at it like a leaf floating up in the wind, and then it was gone. Mostly.

Ren clambered to her feet again and made it all the way down the stairs in one piece. "Much better," she said to the room's occupants.

Jennifer looked up from her conversation with the teapot. She peered closely at Ren's face. "Have you been crying? Heavens, come over here, sit down!" Ren found herself led to a chair and nearly shoved into it. "There, there, it will be okay, this must be so hard for you!"

"Actually, I'm fine, I'm okay, really…" Ren tried to fend off the over-zealous butterfly woman.

Jennifer finally took the hint and stepped back. "We were discussing things while you were sleeping, and now too, of course. We thought, well, that you should stay here for a while."

"Oh?" Ren grinned in a slightly worried manner. She hadn't actually thought about where she would go or stay.

"Yes, Mark scouted out the woods where Rachel found you, but couldn't find any sign of tracks or luggage, or anything that would give us a hint as to where you came from. I asked around town as well, but no one was expecting visitors or relatives…" She glanced at her husband for confirmation, and he nodded.

"So we thought you could stay with us," Mark continued. "You could help Rachel out in the restaurant and such," he added, probably seeing the look on Ren's face. "So that you don't have to feel like a complete burden."

Ren tried to smile. "That's very nice of you, but I don't even know you, I couldn't…"

"You don't know anyone," Rachel put in. "So why does it make a difference if you stay here or anywhere else?"

"Rachel!" Jennifer looked shocked, but Ren started to laugh.

"She has a point. I... would love to stay here. Just until I remember something useful, that is."

"That's settled then!" Jennifer clapped her hands together. "Oh it will be good to have someone around to play with Rachel, I've been kind of worried about her not hanging around anyone of her age group."

"Mother!" Rachel glared at her parent. "I don't need someone to 'play' with! And she's not my age group!" She waved a hand at Ren, who tried to shrink into the chair.

"Oh, I don't know, I might be…"

"Don't be silly!" Rachel snapped. "You're way older than me."

Ren put on an irritated look. "Well, thanks a million, I'm sure. Feel free to call me grandma or something."

The next day, Ren and Rachel left the house early; Rachel to the restaurant and Ren to check out the town.

"The more things you see, the more chance something will jog your memory," Mark had said.

"But not too much!" Jennifer had added hastily. "You're still unwell, you should take it easy."

"She really didn't need to hug me," Ren said as she finally closed the front gate between her and the house. "I think I'm a bit old for that, no matter how you look at it. Especially since I hardly know her! I felt extremely silly."

"That's my mother," Rachel said with a flutter of wings and a sigh. "She's got a horrible lost-kitten syndrome. She's latched on to you now, and there'll be no stopping her until you get your memory back."

"I'd better go get it back quickly then!"

Rachel giggled. "Where are you thinking of going first?"

"Oh, I thought…" Ren fidgeted sheepishly. "A blacksmith."

"A blacksmith?" Rachel caught sight of the sword-belt draped over Ren's arm. "Are you still harping on weapons?"

"I'm not harping on them, I'd just feel less ridiculous if there was something in these." She rattled the scabbards at the younger girl.

"Oh fine. I was hoping you'd say you didn't know where to go and I could make you help me do dishes or something."

"I'll come back later and help." Ren looked apprehensively at the path to the market. "Provided I don't get lost."

"Oh come on, Domina's not big enough to get lost in. Here, I'll give you directions if you really think you need them…"

The blacksmith ran his hands over the scabbards, one at a time. "These are odd shapes, I don't know if anything I have will fit them. I'd have to make something…"

Ren's face fell. "I don't have much money…well, I don't have any money really. I thought, if I had weapons, I could go out and do something that would make money."

The blacksmith raised an eyebrow. "Like what, rob a caravan?"

"No no no, like…I don't know. Something in my head equates weapons with money. That's all."

"Yes, weapons cost money…that would be it." He paused, then looked at her more closely. "You must be the new girl, the one Mark and Jennifer picked up."

"Er. That's me, I guess. My name is Ren. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

Ren hung her head. "Yeah."

"Don't look like that, it's unfair." The blacksmith sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you what. I have, in the back room, some swords and things that I've put aside as not being good enough to sell. They're no works of art, but they are usable, if you're not too picky…"

Ren brightened. "Picky? Nah, I don't know enough to be picky."

"Then what are you going to do with…nevermind. If I put some pieces of leather inside the scabbards here, and here, and maybe here…you should be able to sheathe them without too much rattling around, and a quick strap right here will keep them from falling out."

"You would do that for me?"

He shrugged. "Hmm. Well, Mark and Jennifer are nice people and I've known them for ages. It would be more of a favor to them than anything. And you can pay me back when you…do whatever it is you were going to do to make money."

"Thank you! Thank you so much, I feel like I'm missing an arm or something. Can I take them now?"

"Now, slow down. I need to do the work on the scabbards first, then I'll take a look in the back room and see what fits. I can't rightly put aside paying customers' work for that either. So why don't you come back tomorrow and I'll see if I can have it done by then."

"Okay." Ren tried not to feel disappointed. It wouldn't be very polite of her. "I'll leave the scabbards here then…" She stepped back from the counter and waited a minute.

"Is there something else?" the blacksmith asked.

Well, the scabbards didn't seem to be about to talk her into staying or anything this time, so Ren shook her head quickly and ran out the door.

"Phew," she said to the street. It didn't respond either.

Ren made her way slowly back through town. Very slowly. She wandered around the market, looking at the things she had no money to consider spending on. She saw a woman with a lot of fruit on her head, a kid who was also an onion, or something, and a monkey juggling. Domina, she decided, was a very strange town. Then again, maybe everywhere else was the same and she just couldn't remember it. Maybe she had a juggling monkey for a best friend back wherever she'd come from. Maybe her aunt was a teapot. One never knew.

Stopping in a small park on the side of the path, she stood staring up at a statue of the mana goddess in the middle of a fountain. There was water springing from the pool, and some of it sprayed on the statue's face, making it look like she was crying. Ren felt a chill run down her spine. She shuddered, and wondered why. Suddenly she was gripped by a desperate desire to see a familiar face, any face, anyone she knew.

Since her list in that category was pretty limited right now, it gave her only two places to go. Mark and Jennifer's house was right out, since that butterfly woman would probably hug her and put her to bed with a glass of milk like a child. That left the restaurant. Ren spun away from the fountain and walked quickly back down the path.

Reaching the restaurant didn't take long, but by the time she got there the nervous feeling had faded. She was, however, hungry, which was an even better reason to be at a restaurant. Opening the door, she stepped inside. The place was almost deserted, it being past lunch time and before dinner. Almost deserted.

In the corner were two people, a tallish man in a sand-colored cloak, and Rachel, who was cowering back against the wall.

"They said you would know!" the man was saying, a little too loudly to be mere friendly conversation. Rachel shook her head mutely. Something clicked in Ren's brain. She might be confused in general, but she wasn't stupid enough not to figure out that this wasn't right.

"Hey! Who do you think you are?" she shouted, running quickly across the room.

The man spun around, startled, reaching immediately for his sword. He had it in hand and pointed at Ren before he had even finished turning. Then he hesitated.

Ren grabbed the barstool next to her, swung it up, caught the sword between the rungs and twisted, wrenching the blade from its wielder's grip and flinging both chair and captive weapon across the room. They struck a table and separated with a clatter.

The unknown man stared after them. So did Ren. Then she realized it would be completely anti-climactic to admit she hadn't quite meant to do that, and stepped between the man and his fallen blade instead. "I asked you a question!"

"Nothing, it's nothing," Rachel murmured, sliding around the man and hurrying to Ren's side. "He was just asking me for directions."

"It didn't sound like he was just asking. More like demanding." She kept her eyes on the guy, who was slowly making his way around towards his sword. Ren stayed between him and Rachel, but stepped back, allowing him to retrieve his weapon.

"It was a mistake," he said, finally, picking up the sword and sheathing it silently. "I thought she knew someone, but apparently I was mistaken." He looked carefully at Rachel, but she disappeared behind Ren and didn't say anything else.

"Yes, I think you were." Ren was surprised at how cold her voice sounded. "So why don't you take it somewhere else?"

His eyes narrowed, and Ren wondered briefly what she would do if he decided to draw his sword again or something. Then he seemed to catch himself, and strode out the door instead. Ren let her breath out slowly.

"Phew," she said. "You get guys like that in here a lot?"

"No," said Rachel from behind her. "They're usually uglier."

Ren turned around, exasperated. "What does that have to do with it?"

"Nothing. He was scary anyway, wasn't he?"

"I guess so." Ren shrugged.

"You guess so? Well, not to you I guess. That was so cool, with the chair and everything!" Rachel seemed to have recovered her voice quickly. "How did you do it?"

"By um, not thinking about it. I think."

"Oh." Rachel fluttered over and picked up the fallen chair, carrying it back to the bar. "Thank you, by the way!" she said, over her shoulder.

"No problem. Just wait until the blacksmith gives me the swords he promised."

Rachel pondered this for a moment. "What if you're only good with barstools?" she asked.

"Then I'll have wasted a lot of charm on that blacksmith, I suppose." Ren grinned, though she hadn't been trying to charm the blacksmith, not deliberately. Looking back, though, she felt like she had been acting very silly. Something in her head felt darker now, like a black silk sheet between her and the sun, ever since she'd picked up the chair. She shook her head back and forth, trying to clear it. "I think…I need some air," she explained to Rachel's worried expression. "I'll be right back…"

Ren stumbled outside and took a few deep breaths. This cleared up the fog in her head a bit, along with the bright afternoon sun making everything more cheerful.

"Hey." The voice seemed to drop the temperature in the surrounding area a couple of degrees, negating the effects of the fresh air neatly. Ren looked up the street. The sandy-caped man was leaning against a lamppost a few paces away.

"Yes? Something else you want?" she asked. "I hope you're not going to pick a fight, because I'm kind of short on weapons at the moment."

"Somehow, I don't think that would last long. Not with such a handy collection of flower pots and fence boards just lying around." He shoved off the lamppost and stood up straighter. "Who are you, really?"

Ren pondered this. "Ren. I think."

"You think?"

"That's the gist of it, yes."

He frowned at the street for a moment. "I see. So it was you they were talking about."

"What was me? Who was talking?" Ren wondered briefly if she would have to spend the rest of her life asking questions like that every third sentence.

"No one in particular. I just heard some people in the market saying there was a new girl in town, with memory problems. I just thought…"

Ren waited a bit, but nothing else seemed forthcoming. "You thought?"

"Nothing." The man turned and started to walk away.

"Hey, wait!" Ren broke into a sprint and got ahead of him, blocking his path. "Are you…looking for someone? With memory problems?"

"Not you." He tried to step around her, but she stepped too. "Excuse me." He tried a couple more times, but Ren remained persistent. "You know, it's not really any of your business."

"It is! You were threatening my friend about it, which makes it my business! You heard…hey hold it would you? You heard from the people in the market that there was a girl with memory problems around here, and they said Rachel would know. Then for some reason…just stay put already!...you thought threatening a little girl would be a good way to get a straight answer... stand still, this is completely undignified!"

The man sighed and stopped trying to dodge around her. "All right, all right. Would it get you out of my way if I go back and apologize?"

"No. I don't want you to go near Rachel again."

He stared at her. "It…wasn't like that. Anyway, I won't. It doesn't matter. Would you move now?"

Ren ignored him. "Why don't you tell me what the problem is? I can help better, I'm sure."

"I thought you were having memory problems. How is that going to make you more helpful?"

"I…" Ren found herself at a loss. "I don't know. But, the more people you talk to, the more chance of finding a clue, right?"

The man frowned at the street. "You might have a point. I guess. I'm looking for someone. A friend. She's about…that other girl's height. Maybe a little taller."

Ren waited a moment, but he didn't volunteer anything else. "Well, that could be just about anyone, could you be a little more specific?"

He seemed to think about this for longer than should be necessary. "Her name is Pearl," he said finally.

"That helps…so I should just ask every girl I meet in the…world, maybe, if her name is Pearl?"

"She's in this area."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do."

"But how?"

"None of your business!" he snapped, with more force than previously. Ren stepped back. "Nevermind. I have to find her, so if you hear anything, let me know."

"Where can I find you, then?" Ren recovered her voice. "In case I do hear something."

"I'm staying at the inn." He started to brush past her again, and this time Ren let him go.

"What's your name anyway?" she asked as he went by. The man stopped and looked at her. "You can't not answer, you know. I told you mine."

"Did you? I thought you weren't sure." Ren glared at him, and he shrugged. "Elazul." With that he turned and continued up the path.