Remember

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter One

At twelve years old, Blumiere spent much of his time outdoors. He would finish his lessons with his aunt and immediately take to the fresh air outside the castle. Often he'd go as near to the cliff's edge as he dared and watch the humans; the pale-faced creatures were mere ants from his position. Today he was waiting anxiously for the return of his mother, who had left the night before to go into the town, for a reason Blumiere could only guess. He did know that she'd left without telling his father, and because of that, curiosity got the best of him.

It was dawn. The sun had begun to peek over the edge of the horizon. At last, the intricate obsidian gate swung open and Queen Anastaise entered the castle grounds.

"Mother!" Blumiere couldn't help himself. Overcome with anticipation and excitement, he flew from his makeshift watchtower and threw his arms around his mother.

Once she had been released from the embrace, Anastaise knelt down and brushed the stray hair from her son's face. "Blumiere," she chided, "what have I told you about waiting up for me? It's still early; you should be asleep."

Blumiere wasn't about to admit that he'd followed her to the gate and stayed up most of the night waiting for her. "I wanted to be the first to see you," he said. "I have a lot of questions."

Anastaise sighed, but there was a smile on her face. Standing and beckoning towards the castle's grand entrance, she chuckled, "Come inside, Blumiere. Let's get you back in bed, and then perhaps I'll tell you about my visit."

The young boy did not object. Together mother and son entered the elaborate castle and traveled the halls until they reached Blumiere's room. He hopped on the appropriately-sized bed, grinning as he burrowed under the covers and turned expectantly to his mother.

Sitting on the edge of Blumiere's bed, Anastaise leaned over her son and, once again, brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "The humans are a fascinating species," she began, keeping her voice to a whisper. "Last night there was a festival-"

"What's that?" Blumiere interrupted. The word was foreign to him.

"It's a wonderful party. The whole town is invited, and there's music and dancing beautiful lights." The young queen's eyes filled with renewed awe as she recounted the events of the previous evening.

Blumiere's own eyes widened; he remembered seeing such lights while he was waiting for his mother's return. "Oh! So that's what I saw!"

Anastaise gave him a knowing look that told him he'd said too much.

"I-I mean-"

She laughed, shaking her head slowly. "You were up all night, weren't you?" She took his silence as the answer to her question. "Blumiere, you mustn't be out at night, especially without telling anyone. If you had gotten hurt…"

"You went out without telling father," Blumiere murmured, so quietly he wasn't sure if his mother had even heard him. But she met his eyes with a cold hurt that told him she'd heard every word. A wave of guilt washed over him; he knew he shouldn't speak out against either of his parents, but he had to know. So he continued, "Why didn't you tell anyone? What if you had gotten hurt? I was worried…" He winced, anticipating a sharp reply.

But the response he received was not what he expected. "You are right, Blumiere, it was wrong of me to leave without telling your father. But he is… a bit closed-minded. He doesn't…" Struggling to find the correct words, Anastaise settled for sighing and turning away from her son.

"I understand, mother." Blumiere sat up. "I think the humans sound like wonderful creatures- er… species." He recalled the word she used earlier. "Perhaps someday you'd take me to see them?"

"Perhaps," Anastaise whispered, without turning around.

After a moment of silence, uneasiness took home in Blumiere's stomach. "I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling anxious and confused. "I didn't mean to make you sad…"

Queen Anastaise faced her son once more, and Blumiere's heart skipped a beat as he noticed there were tears in his mother's eyes. "My darling… I promise you, next time I leave I'll tell someone before I go. I'll be more careful."

Feeling tears stinging his own eyes, Blumiere leaned forward and embraced his mother, burying his face into the silky material covering her shoulder. He didn't understand why she was so upset. Was it because of what he'd said? "Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry," he pleaded. "I-I didn't mean to make you cry."

"No, no, Blumiere," Anastaise smoothed down her son's hair. "It was I who made a mistake. Curiosity gets the best of all of us sometimes. But rather than let our mistakes burden us with guilt, we should learn from them."

"I'm sorry I stayed up all night," Blumiere said.

Anastaise laughed. "And I'm sorry I expected you to follow a rule that I didn't follow myself. Thank you, Blumiere."

He knew not what he was being thanked for, but Blumiere felt better knowing he'd made his mother happy again. "You're welcome…I love you, mother."

"And I love you, Blumiere. Hundreds of thousands of years—"

Blumiere jolted awake and was filled with immediate agony.

His head was throbbing and the space behind his eyes ached so much he dared not open them. Momentary panic clenched his heart as he realized he could not move. His arms were pinned to his sides and his legs felt heavier than lead. After a few seconds of borderline-hysteria, he discovered that he could not move his limbs because there was a thick blanket draped over him. He was lying in a bed. Wriggling a bit, he tried to free himself but was at once overcome by a jolt of pain that flashed up his spine.

"Ugh...Uuugh…" he groaned, closing his eyes tighter in an attempt to free himself from the pain. His arms were shaking with the effort of trying to escape, and his whole body was tingling as if it were still asleep.

"You're awake at last?"

Blumiere froze. The voice—feminine, light, and smooth as honey—was not one he recognized. Struggling with confusion, he began to recall what had happened. He'd fallen from the cliff base and had landed somewhere next to the town border. He'd survived the fall, thank goodness, but where was he now? His train of thought was cut off as warm hands touched his forehead, pressing, feeling, before brushing his hair back behind his ears. Skin prickling at her touch, he cringed, unable to resist opening his eyes.

A young lady of about eighteen was hovering over him. Her shimmering, light blue eyes were wide with worry, and her brow furrowed as she studied him. Long, straight, caramel hair fell from her forehead and nearly touched his. She was a human, indeed; her skin was pale as a peach.

Taking in a shaky breath, he attempted once more to get out from underneath the blanket. He'd regained most of the strength in his limbs and was able to get himself into a sitting position, but before he could get any further he was coaxed back down by the woman. Grunting in protest, he asked, "Where...am I? Is this...a human's home?"

She pressed on his shoulders and hissed out a breath of air. "Shh… Don't wiggle like that. I found you at the cliff base. You took quite a fall."

With inquisitive eyes he searched her face for any sign of fear or wariness, but within the crystal pools of her eyes there was only a warm sense of concern. "You're a human, correct? I don't… repulse you? I am of the Tribe of Darkness…"

As if thoroughly offended by that comment, she placed a hand on her chest and said, "Why would that matter? Anyone with a heart would not ignore an injured soul!"

Blumiere had to choke down a laugh. Her expression was comical; her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed together, but he didn't want to offend the kind woman by laughing at her.

She seemed to notice what he was hiding, as her face reddened. "Th-that's not funny! Why are you laughing?" she exclaimed.

He allowed a smile to show on his face. "Please, forgive me, milady. I meant no offense."

An odd look crossed her face. She ran her fingers through her hair, glanced off into the distance, and then locked eyes with Blumiere. They stared at each other for a moment, and then as if she couldn't hold it back anymore, a grin broke through her lips and she giggled. "Milady!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with a coy playfulness that made Blumiere blush. She covered her mouth as she laughed, saying, "My, you are quite the gentleman, aren't you?"

Blumiere furrowed his brow, growing ever hotter under her incredulous gaze. "W-Well, what would you rather me call you, then?" he stammered.

With a playful curtsy she announced, "Milord, my name is Timpani. Who do I owe the pleasure of meeting?"

Giving in to her teasing, a smile crossed his lips. "I am Prince Blumiere of the Tribe of Darkness, fifth in line to the throne," he grinned, and if he weren't confined to the bed he was in, he'd have bowed in return.

"Blumiere, hmm?" Timpani sat down on the edge of the bed, turning to him. "What a wonderful name."

Out of the blue, a tiny spark of irritation appeared in Blumiere's mind. He did not think of his name as 'wonderful.' His father had named his four older brothers after powerful kings and wielders of the Tribe's past. But Basile wasn't present for the birth of his fifth son, and so Blumiere's mother had been the one to name him. "It means 'blue light,'" he grumbled. "I was born under the light of the full moon." Narrowing his eyes, Blumiere scoffed, "Ironic, isn't it? We're the Tribe of Darkness, and my mother names me after the glow of the full moon on its brightest night."

Timpani smiled down at him. "I think it's poetic," she said in a quiet tone. "I'm sure your mother thinks so, too. Have you ever asked her why she chose that name for you?"

I don't have that option, now… After mentioning his mother, Blumiere recalled that he'd been dreaming about her before he'd woken up. But it was more than a dream; the scene that had played out in his head was a memory. Sobered by the distinct picture of his mother's face in his mind's eye, Blumiere frowned. He should be grateful for the name his mother had given him, after all, it was a gift from her that he could never lose. "I regret not asking her while I still had the chance," he whispered, feeling his throat tighten with the strain of keeping his emotions at bay.

Something clicked within Timpani's mind, and at once her eyes widened. "Oh… Oh, Blumiere, I'm so sorry…I-I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Blumiere shook his head. "It's alright. You did not know, Timpani." But he said nothing more, his expression still downcast.

Timpani sighed, raising her thumb to stroke his cheek, and then to brush the hair out of his eyes (it always managed to fall back onto his face somehow). Her feathery touch once more made Blumiere's skin tingle; it helped to take his mind off of his mother. Peering up into her crystal blue eyes, the young man felt himself calmed.

"I never got to know my parents," Timpani murmured. "They were both killed in an attack on the town about eighteen years ago. I was an infant; I can't even recall their faces. But my aunt and uncle raised me, and they treated me as if I were their own daughter. I never knew the difference."

Blumiere recognized the battle that Timpani spoke of. It was the first and only battle of his father's reign. Humans had somehow learned of the previous king's death and had staged an attack on the weakened Tribe. But the humans suffered heavy losses and were forced to retreat. The battle was followed by several years of severe animosity between the two races, during which the Tribe of Darkness almost completely vanished from the lives of the humans.

Knowing his father had likely been the one who had murdered Timpani's parents, Blumiere couldn't help but be filled with renewed rage towards him, despite the fact the humans had initiated the attack.

"I'm sorry to hear about that regardless, Timpani. It's a shame there's such a horrible history between our tribes."

She sighed. "Yes, it's really quite unfortunate. You're nothing like the stories I've heard about your tribe. In fact, you're incredibly charming."

I might have met you sooner if there wasn't a line that divided us. Blumiere was humored by this thought. If only he'd snuck out sooner, as Aldrik had... That train of thought led to another, and suddenly Blumiere jolted upwards in the bed, resisting Timpani's attempt to hold him down.

"Blumiere, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

"What time is it?" Blumiere blurted. "Has the sun risen yet?" He tried to exit the confines of the bedsheets but was stopped short when a white-hot flash of pain enveloped his right wrist. Crying out in pain, Blumiere raised the affected appendage in order to study it, surprised to find that a white cloth was wrapped around it.

Taking his injured wrist in her hand, Timpani slowly shook her head. "No, Blumiere, the sun hasn't risen yet." Guessing why the time of day had the man in such a panic, she continued, "But you aren't to go anywhere until you're healed, alright?"

He knew full well that he couldn't go home now. Not like this. His father would know that he had escaped when he saw his wrist. Looking up at the young woman hovering over him, he sighed, defeated.

"Timpani," Blumiere decided to start from the beginning, "what happened to me? How did I even get here?"

His hair had been mussed during his attempt to escape, and so Timpani took it upon herself to brush it out of his eyes again, before sitting on the bed next to him. "I was walking through town last night and saw you lying at the base of the cliff. You were so close to the houses, I was worried that some other humans would find you. I decided to bring you back here."

"You live here? How can you stand living in such a tiny place?" He glanced around at the modest room, decorated with a plain simplicity that was so different from the elaborate decor of the Tribe's castle. After he'd investigated every corner of the small bedroom he turned to Timpani once more—and was met by her challenging stare. Realizing his statement had been rude, he stammered, "Uh, I-I mean—"

"Not everyone can live in a castle, you know," Timpani stated matter-of-factly, though there was a spark of humor in her eyes, so Blumiere couldn't tell if she was truly angry or not.

"Please forgive me, Lady Timpani. That was… insensitive of me." He stared at the ground, cursing himself for speaking so carelessly.

She glanced sidelong at him, offering a half-smile. "You're forgiven." Then her serious charade faltered and she giggled, making Blumiere feel both relieved and embarrassed. "Oh, Blumiere, you're too funny."

He felt himself flush with heat, and was about to stutter a reply when Timpani continued, "And actually, to answer your original question, this house belongs to no one. It's close to the forest, in the plains. I thought it would be easier to get you back home if you didn't need to worry about being spotted. My house is in town," Timpani went on, "but I spend a lot of time out here in the meadow, picking flowers. I own a small business selling bouquets in the Square," she added. "Anyway, I was on my way to pick some moonflowers when I stumbled upon you, lying unconscious at the cliff base. You were hurt, and I was so worried the others would find you; I had to take care of you. I was already on my way here, so I decided this would be the perfect place to give you some shelter and patch up your wounds."

Blumiere averted his attention to his wrist. He hadn't noticed, but even through their whole conversation, she'd kept his hand held in hers. Meeting her gaze, he murmured, "You're very kind, Lady Timpani, but it's a shame you had to waste your bandages on me."

Timpani shook her head. "Oh no, no, not at all! I have plenty, and I hardly use them myself." She turned his hand over and began to inspect it, trailing her thumb over the thin fabric that was wrapped around his wrist. "Besides, it was bleeding quite a bit. I didn't want you to lose too much blood." Poking around the edges of the bandages, Timpani discovered that the second layer had begun to turn brown. Frowning, she said, "I'd better re-wrap it. It's leaking through already." Standing, she made to leave.

Blumiere pushed himself forward with his good hand. "No, Timpani, that's not necessary…" he trailed off as she left the room, paying no mind to his plea. Sighing, the blue-faced man sunk back down onto the bed. He wished there was a window in this room so he could see if the sun had come up yet.

Alone now, Blumiere was able to return to his thoughts. He was running out of time; the sun would rise soon, and there was no way he could go home with his wrist still bandaged. There was no lie Blumiere could come up with to explain that. To add to his problems, Blumiere had no idea how long his soul signature would be cloaked for, and if his father were to track him here… He shivered, abolishing that thought.

"Blumiere?"

Startled, he glanced up, unaware that Timpani had returned already.

"I've found the extra bandages—Is something wrong? You look upset… "

His gaze returned to the ground, and a sigh slipped past his lips. "I need to get home soon, Timpani… But I don't know if I'll be able to do it."

Reclaiming her spot at his side, Timpani took up his wrist and began to unwrap the bandages that bound it. "Is it that you can't get home or that you don't want to?"

"Well...both." He hadn't realized it until now, but he had been dreading his return home from the moment he exited the castle. And not only because he feared his father, but because he liked it here. Even if there were humans who hated him, Timpani was proof that not all humans were like that. There might even be others, although he wouldn't mind if Timpani was the only kind human he ever met…

"Why don't you stay, then?" Timpani had removed the old bandages and was beginning to apply the new ones. "I mean… except for the obvious reasons. I'd be happy to stay with you here for a few more days, at least."

A deep longing tugged at his heartstrings. To stay here with Timpani, to never go back to the castle, to never face his father again… In this moment, there was nothing more he wanted. But there were so many things keeping him from doing so. "I'll...I'll stay one day more," he said at last.

Bad idea, a voice within him warned, and he knew full well that it was right. But right now he felt free, and even if it meant he'd have to face his father's wrath a second time, Blumiere would never give up that freedom.

"You're sure?" Timpani seemed to be just as excited about his idea as he was, for she didn't wait for him to reply. "Then let's make this day worth it. Come outside with me, I'd like to show you the meadow."