Chapter 8
As night descended, Sinbad found a place close to a small stream where he and Maeve could set up camp. They were both exhausted from searching the area for any sign of human life.
Sinbad had caught some strange-looking animal and they prepared the carcass for dinner. They built up a fire and placed the animal on the spit to cook.
While they were waiting, he turned to her and said, "Now Maeve, you've got to try and remember something. We may find ourselves up against something and could need your magic to help us out."
Maeve frowned as she studied the flames. "You told me that I can do magic and cast spells but I don't feel very magical. Do you actually know how I used to do these spells and stuff?"
Sinbad thought about all the times that she had used her magic and smiled wryly. He should have spent more time concentrating on how she was performing the spell rather than gaping at her body.
She wondered what had put the smile on his face. His eyes had gone dreamy as if he was remembering a happy incident in his past.
She could not believe that she had forgotten this man. He was the epitome of everything that she had ever dreamed of in a man - strong, handsome and caring - how was it possible that she did not know him?
She struggled to remember anything about him at all but could only come up with a blank. She clenched her fists in frustration. She hated not knowing anything about herself. Having no identity was not exactly something that she could get accustomed to....
Sinbad studied the play of emotions over Maeve's face. He could almost feel the anger and pain as they radiated in waves off of her. He sighed softly, wishing that he could do something to ease her torment.
She looked so beautiful and so forlorn sitting there, her long hair spilling over her shoulders, catching the firelight and turning to molten gold. She had drawn her legs up to her neck and rested her chin on her knees. She had a lost expression on her face and he couldn't resist.
Drawing near to her, he toyed with a long lock of her hair. "What's on your mind?" he asked quietly.
She laughed bitterly. "What mind?" She raised her eyes up to his. "I have no past, Sinbad. No identity."
He gently touched her cheek. "You DO have a past Maeve. You are someone. It will take some time but never fear - you will remember who are."
A tear pooled in the corner of her eye. She sniffed and turned her face away. He draped his arm over her shoulder and she leaned into him, trying to use him - her only solid link to her past - for comfort.
This, for Sinbad, was a new experience. This softer, more depending side of Maeve was enjoyable in little doses - but he still wished that she would regain her memory soon. There were things that he needed to tell her - feelings that he had denied for so long - and - now that they were together, and alone, he longed to vent his feelings and tell her what was in his heart.
He didn't know how she might react to his words in her vulnerable state though. She might believe that he was trying to take advantage of her and that would just lead to further conflict.
He sighed and lay back on the grass. He folded his arms below his head and stared up at the clear night sky. Next to him, Maeve was also looking at the stars and wondering how her life could have gotten so out of control.
She snuck a glance at the man next to her, then exhaled softly and lay down. Turning her back to him, she quickly fell into an exhausted sleep, tormented by nightmares.
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The tall figure garbed in dark blue raised his hands. They were long and thin, like claws and at the end of each finger was a wicked-looking talon. He began chanting a spell, words of death and destruction.
He smiled as he did so, knowing that he had in his grasp the four people who would have been able to stop his evil plans.
His eyes dimmed slightly as he thought of them. As long as they were alive, they would be a danger to him. He needed to get rid of the quartet first and then proceed.
He knew that the powerful sorceress had lost her memory - he had ordered his minions to drop her carelessly to the ground in hopes of killing her. Instead, some vestige of her magic had managed to save her life - although it was not enough to prevent her from striking her head as she landed. He had left a minion of his to observe them and he had rubbed his bony hands in glee when it was reported that she was not even able to recall her own name.
It was also a delight for him to know that the captain was with her because he knew how much the loss of his beloved's memory would pain him. Looking onto her eyes and knowing that she did not recall who he was, seemed to be a fitting punishment for the young sailor who caused an impediment to his plans.
How he would have enjoyed seeing the torment in Sinbad's eyes as he looked at the sorceress, wondering if she would ever remember him again.
He laughed aloud, and began to plot.
*******************************************
As night descended, Sinbad found a place close to a small stream where he and Maeve could set up camp. They were both exhausted from searching the area for any sign of human life.
Sinbad had caught some strange-looking animal and they prepared the carcass for dinner. They built up a fire and placed the animal on the spit to cook.
While they were waiting, he turned to her and said, "Now Maeve, you've got to try and remember something. We may find ourselves up against something and could need your magic to help us out."
Maeve frowned as she studied the flames. "You told me that I can do magic and cast spells but I don't feel very magical. Do you actually know how I used to do these spells and stuff?"
Sinbad thought about all the times that she had used her magic and smiled wryly. He should have spent more time concentrating on how she was performing the spell rather than gaping at her body.
She wondered what had put the smile on his face. His eyes had gone dreamy as if he was remembering a happy incident in his past.
She could not believe that she had forgotten this man. He was the epitome of everything that she had ever dreamed of in a man - strong, handsome and caring - how was it possible that she did not know him?
She struggled to remember anything about him at all but could only come up with a blank. She clenched her fists in frustration. She hated not knowing anything about herself. Having no identity was not exactly something that she could get accustomed to....
Sinbad studied the play of emotions over Maeve's face. He could almost feel the anger and pain as they radiated in waves off of her. He sighed softly, wishing that he could do something to ease her torment.
She looked so beautiful and so forlorn sitting there, her long hair spilling over her shoulders, catching the firelight and turning to molten gold. She had drawn her legs up to her neck and rested her chin on her knees. She had a lost expression on her face and he couldn't resist.
Drawing near to her, he toyed with a long lock of her hair. "What's on your mind?" he asked quietly.
She laughed bitterly. "What mind?" She raised her eyes up to his. "I have no past, Sinbad. No identity."
He gently touched her cheek. "You DO have a past Maeve. You are someone. It will take some time but never fear - you will remember who are."
A tear pooled in the corner of her eye. She sniffed and turned her face away. He draped his arm over her shoulder and she leaned into him, trying to use him - her only solid link to her past - for comfort.
This, for Sinbad, was a new experience. This softer, more depending side of Maeve was enjoyable in little doses - but he still wished that she would regain her memory soon. There were things that he needed to tell her - feelings that he had denied for so long - and - now that they were together, and alone, he longed to vent his feelings and tell her what was in his heart.
He didn't know how she might react to his words in her vulnerable state though. She might believe that he was trying to take advantage of her and that would just lead to further conflict.
He sighed and lay back on the grass. He folded his arms below his head and stared up at the clear night sky. Next to him, Maeve was also looking at the stars and wondering how her life could have gotten so out of control.
She snuck a glance at the man next to her, then exhaled softly and lay down. Turning her back to him, she quickly fell into an exhausted sleep, tormented by nightmares.
********************************
The tall figure garbed in dark blue raised his hands. They were long and thin, like claws and at the end of each finger was a wicked-looking talon. He began chanting a spell, words of death and destruction.
He smiled as he did so, knowing that he had in his grasp the four people who would have been able to stop his evil plans.
His eyes dimmed slightly as he thought of them. As long as they were alive, they would be a danger to him. He needed to get rid of the quartet first and then proceed.
He knew that the powerful sorceress had lost her memory - he had ordered his minions to drop her carelessly to the ground in hopes of killing her. Instead, some vestige of her magic had managed to save her life - although it was not enough to prevent her from striking her head as she landed. He had left a minion of his to observe them and he had rubbed his bony hands in glee when it was reported that she was not even able to recall her own name.
It was also a delight for him to know that the captain was with her because he knew how much the loss of his beloved's memory would pain him. Looking onto her eyes and knowing that she did not recall who he was, seemed to be a fitting punishment for the young sailor who caused an impediment to his plans.
How he would have enjoyed seeing the torment in Sinbad's eyes as he looked at the sorceress, wondering if she would ever remember him again.
He laughed aloud, and began to plot.
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