Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl, or any other character.
Holly flew through the airy clouds, not having quite as much fun as she normally did.
Holly had just come from taking a candy-smuggling pixie to Police Plaza. She had been given permission to fly around, to check to be sure that no other smugglers were up on the surface.
At least, that was her official reason.
She knew that Commander Root had just given that assignment to her so she could have some time to fly and be away from her thoughts.
It was the morning of the second day since Artemis Fowl had been mind-wiped.
Holly knew that it was better for The People that Artemis's memories had been stolen, but it just didn't feel right. He had just been changing from monster to person when his memories were taken. What if, because of this, he went back to being a monster? What if all that progress wasted was the fault of the People?
Holly sighed. She couldn't keep berating herself, but her mind seemed dead set on doing just that.
"It sounds like an aweful lot of sighing up there. You all right Holly?"
Holly didn't want to talk to Foaly right now. She didn't need his sarcastic coments, or, worse, his simpathy. So she muted everything in her helmet, shutting the centaur out.
Now she could be alone with her Artemis Fowl misery.
With that, Holly got an idea. She turned and headed in the direction of Fowl Manor.
When she reached the haunting, looming house, she paused, for the first time considering the possibility that this was not a good idea. But of course it was-what harm could it do?
She flew up alongside Artemis's window, and peeked in. What she saw knocked the breath out of her.
Artemis Fowl was sitting on a cushion, staring at his painting. It was of a three-foot-tall girl with short auburn hair and pointed ears. It was number twenty-seven, the latest in a series of paintings featuring the same girl. There was one of her lying in arctic snow. One of her crouched beneath a tree near a bend in the river. Her raising her gun to shoot a coin flipping in midair. Her behind the wheel to some sort of vehicle. Her with her head thrown back, laughing. Her with blue sparks drifting down her arm as she healed something that went off the page. There was a close-up of her eye.
The painting's style changed a little bit with each picture. Lined up in chronological order, one could see that Artemis had started with a vibrant variety of colors, all used rather evenly. Slowly, certain colors began to dominate the pictures. The purples were the first to go. Then yellow, then orange, then blue, then green. Eventually, the paintings were all done all in red, black, and white. Finally, the red paint's consistency changed. It became a thinner paint, a different shade than the last one.
Artemis had finally, just an hour ago, had a flicker of a memory of this girl. She had been talking, telling him that there was a spark of decency in him under all the nastiness.
Artemis wanted to hold onto that girl, but that memory was all that he could conjur up.
Artemis absently looked down at his arm, where several cuts had been made.
Artemis was painting pictures in blood.
The paintings surrounded his room. Butler had tried to get Artemis to stop, but Artemis had simply locked his door and instructed through the keyhole not to disturb him.
He had to know who that girl was. There was something special about her, he could feel it. She had been special to him.
He had loved her.
He continued to paint her picture as he struggled to find her identity. It was like he was in a spider web-he couldn't escape his need to know her, and he wouldn't give up until he had.
Holly stared at the pictures in horror. There was no doubt that they were of her.
Artemis hadn't yet remembered her, but he wanted to. He knew something in his mind was amiss. And it was driving him crazy.
He knew she was there, he just didn't know where. And she could see it in his face-he would find her.
She ducked beneath the window pane when she heard a knock on Artemis's door.
"Alright Butler, come in." Artemis had locked himself away from Butler?
She heard the door slide open. "Artemis, this is crazy. You're hurting yourself."
Artemis was hurting himself? Holly risked a second peek into Artemis's room. Now she noticed that some of the paintings were done in a different shade of red. She turned to Artemis. Her eyes zeroed in on the cuts decorating his arm.
With a gasp she ducked under the window again. Artemis Fowl, her kidnapper, old enemy, new friend, was painting pictures of her in his own blood.
"Butler, I have to know who she is."
"Artemis, you'll kill yourself if you keep this up!"
"I will not stop until I know where she is and why she seems so important, but at the same time I can't place who she is. It's like there is a gaping hole in my head, Butler that I need to fill."
Holly started. Artemis had been mind-wiped. The actual memory of her was gone. But his strong mind had held onto her name, and that she was somehow important. If she had been of any importance to him before the mind-wipe, then she had become his friend. A friend that he lost to that machine of Foaly's.
"Leave me, Butler. I will find out who this girl is, and then I will find her and bring her hear."
Holly nearly fainted. I will find out who this girl is, and then I will find her and bring her here. Artemis planned on kidnapping her again. Only this time, it wasn't for gold. It was because she had been important to him before he was forced to forget why. Because she had become a friend he intended to keep.
Holly flew towards E1. She had to tell this to Commander Root and Foaly. As she went, she formulated what she would say. She didn't want him re-mind-wiped if she could help it. She wanted him to be given his memories back-he was planning her recapture that instant. He was a danger to the People without his memories. That would be her excuse. Foaly had a monitor camera in Fowl Manor. She would show them proof that they needed to restore his memories if her stories of the paintings were discarded as stories, or tricks of light.
She thought of the cuts on his arm and sped up a little.