A campsite, May of 1425

Glagah looked up when she heard excited voices speaking. Her people were usually very quiet; she had to find out what was causing such an excitement. She put aside her handicraft and hurried over to see what was going on.

The troop of scouts had returned. With them was a large bundle, something living. Glagah marvelled at the sight but didn't let it show. She had never seen a tall figure this close before. However she was not happy at the sight, and as soon as the first touch of amazement wore off she began to yell at the scouts for bringing him to their camp. Their people had survived for generations because nobody knew they existed. Letting a tall figure come to their campsite meant their secret could not be kept for much longer.

The scouts listened to her tell-off without saying a word but when she was finished one of them spoke up.

"We found it by the riverbank… nearly dead and wounded by orcs. We couldn't let it die. We know it can be saved."

"And live to tell our secrets" Glagah snarled.

"We couldn't let it die at the hands of the orcs" the scout insisted. "It struggled. It is badly wounded but it fought its way up on the riverbank. We couldn't just leave it to die when we know it can be saved."

Glagah frowned and walked up to the large figure. She gave it a loose kick with her foot to see what would happen but there was no reaction. The body was three times taller than she was and a lot less hairy. The head was covered in hair which was probably curly when it was dry but right now it was soaking wet and in a terrible shape. So was the rest of the creature. It had a white shirt on and a pair of trousers, the type of clothes Glagah knew the tall figures liked to wear. She herself had never understood it, there were far too many buttons and they often had to wear layers to keep warm. The garnments were torn and dirty and bore signs of a struggle. The white shirt was open and revealed a large gash on the chest, near the heart. There were several bruises and smaller cuts but this was the most serious wound. Glagah leaned over and examined it more closely. The cold water had helped cease the bleeding but it was clear that the creature needed help and fast if he was not going to die from the wound. Even if it got help right away there was no telling that it would survive. It looked as good as dead and the wound was full of sand and dirt and would most likely get infected. It would be a waste of time to even try to help this creature.

"Glagah?" the scout said.

Glagah snorted.

"Get Herb. Let him see what he can do for it. If it lives we can discuss its future but I don't think it will see another day dawn."

Herb, their medic whose real name had been forgotten long ago, was sent for and Glagah took a step back when he leaned over the unconscious creature. She had not planned on staying around but for some reason it interested her to see what Herb might be able to do for the odd figure.

Herb didn't say anything at the sight of the creature. He seemed to accept its precense without a fight, and grabbed a pot of water to begin to clean the wound. While he was busy his assistant began to prepare some herbs to treat the gash with. Glagah shrugged her shoulders and left them to their own devices. The sight of the herbs had annoyed her; it was a waste to use them on this dying creature when one of her kinsmen might need them.

She sat down by the fireplace and wondered what to do if the being survived. She was the leader of her tribe and responsible for their well-being. Letting the creature return to its own people would be dangerous even though she knew nobody could find their campsites unless they knew exactly how to look for them. But their whole survival depended on being unknown to the taller folks and if this being went back to its own it would surely talk of the people who saved him. Glagah wasn't sure anybody would believe him but still the seed would have been planted and their safety would be in jeopardy. If a large tribe of the tall folk decided to look for Glagah's people they might just find them. There were only so many places to hide. Glagah couldn't help but wish that the creature would die. Everybody would be saved a lot of trouble if it didn't make it.

XX

XX

Merry moaned in pain and tried to roll over on his side but found that he couldn't. He was spread out on his back, burning hot even though he had no clothes on, and his whole body screamed out in pain. Especially his chest was hurting, his chest and his back. He could tell he had a fever even though his mind was cloudy and the whole world appeared to be spinning. He had no idea of where he was or what had happened to him. He could not even recall his own name. Every breath burned like fire and cut like a thousand knives, he found himself gasping for air since it was so hard to breathe with this intense pain.

He managed to open his eyes but his vision was blurry. He moaned again, louder this time, and felt he was about to pass out from the pain. Suddenly a tiny hand was on his forehead and then it lifted his head up a bit. Merry moaned again as the pain stabbed him even sharper.

"Finege oeth" a voice said.

A leather pouch was placed by his lips and Merry could feel a fluid pass by his lips. It eased his thirst and made the pain a bit easier to bear. It reminded him of something but he didn't know what. The hand lowered his head back down.

"Finege oeth" it said again.

Merry tried to say something but he wasn't sure what to say. He could hear muffled words pass over his lips but he didn't know what they meant. He closed his eyes and faded back into unconsciousness.

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"It awakes" Herb said proudly to Glagah. "It is asleep now again. But it has awakened. It might live."

Glagah frowned and looked over at the wounded creature.

"You are a skilled healer, Herb" she said. "I only wonder if healing is always such a gift. What are we to do with it should it become as good as new?"

"We will worry about that later" Herb said.

He returned to the creature and sat down beside it. He was happy to have this surprise visitor. It was not often he got a chance to really see what he could do, how great his skills were. His own people rarely injured themselves and he knew of all their illnesses so well by now that he could treat them with his eyes closed. But this being was new to him; he had never seen one before and could not know for sure how it would react to his herbs. And the wound it had was worse than anything Herb had ever seen before. It would have been dead by now if it hadn't been for Herb. It was a real challenge for him, and he had been longing for one for many years.

"It tried to speak in its own language" Herb said to Glagah who had come over to look at the being. "I don't understand what it says."

"I know a little of the foreign tongue" Glagah said. "Let us hope I know enough."

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Three days later Merry opened his eyes and saw clearly. The fever had gone down. He tried to move his limbs and found that his muscles did not ache as badly anymore. But the wound on his chest which he could see if he tilted his head looked severe. It was a miracle that he was even alive.

He tried to sit up but found himself screaming of pain as he did. As soon as the scream had faded seven tiny creatures had rushed up to him to see what was going on. They all chattered at the same time in a language which was new to Merry.

"Finege oeth" they all said. "Finege oeth!"

"Finege oeth on you too" Merry mumbled.

"Finege oeth!" they cried, more ecstatically.

He flinched with pain and reached up his hand to his chest. One of the creatures shook his head at him and said something in the foreign tongue. Merry ignored him. He realised that these creatures had saved his life but they did not speak the same language and he was not about to be given medial advice from someone he could not even understand. Suddenly he became aware that he was naked and began to look around for his clothes.

The short creature shook his head and said something else, probably a warning that he shouldn't strain himself. Merry didn't acknowledge him with as much as a nod. He had noticed that his trousers had been used as a pillow for him and he reached for them. The wound on his chest hurt very badly with each move of his arms and he screamed out loud when he pulled his trousers back on. He had to lie back down to avoid fainting and the disapproving midget was suddenly leaned over him, smacking his tongue in an I-told-you-so fashion.

The midget held up a pouch for him to drink from and Merry drank greedily. The liquid eased his pain and made him feel a bit better. It made it easier to breathe and soon he stopped panting.A partof his mindnoted that it was a herbal brew he had been given, and he saved the memory of the taste for later, toidentify what herbs had been used. At least something was familiar. He closed his eyes hard for a second and then openedthem carefully. His head ached, but not as badly anymore.He gathered his strength and sat back up.

He looked around him and found that he was in some form of campsite, though there were no tents. Only small campfires and skins of bears which he assumed served as blankets. But there were at least twenty more of the tiny creatures and they all seemed to be occupied with something.

One of them, an older female, stepped up to Merry and gave him a disapproving look. Merry returned the gesture. He did not know where he was or who he was with and the last thing he needed was a scolding look from a stranger.

"Where do you come from?" she asked in the Common Tongue.

Merry didn't understand the words at first. Her speech was so heavily accented by her own mother tongue that he didn't realise she was speaking in his language at first. But when she repeated the question he understood her.

"I…" he began.

Then he paused. He realised he couldn't answer her. He had no idea how he had ended up where he was or where he had been before that.

"I honestly don't know" he said.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"I… can't recall that either" Merry said and began to feel depressed. "It's all so hazy to me. The only thing I can recall right now is… is that there is someone waiting for me somewhere. But I don't know where or who."

Glagah turned to Herb with questioning eyes. She had heard of people losing their memory before but she was not convinced that the creature was sincere. It might be a trick. Herb only shrugged his shoulders and said that he had found no evidence of the creature being hit in the head, which he would have expected if the memory was gone. But after a pause he added that if something terrible had happened to the creature it might not remember it quite yet. He had heard that the tall figures had minds that worked that way sometimes, in order to protect them.

Glagah snorted. Protect. Run away from was more appropriate. The tall folks had always been prone to running away.

She looked at the creature and saw how genuinely miserable it looked. She could not bring herself to doubt that he had forgotten.

XX
XX

After two weeks Merry felt well enough to be walking around. He rose carefully and swayed back and forth for a moment before he regained his balance. He was weak and had been lying down for nearly twenty days; it was no wonder that he was a bit unsteady. He grabbed his shirt and put it on and slowly tried to button it up but it was difficult. The creatures around him all seemed to have gone to sleep save for the old woman, and he was not about to ask her to help him out. He had to try and button up on his own.

He called the creatures fingots because of the words they had repeated over and over the first time he heard them speak. Finege oeth meant "it awakes" in their tongue but he wasn't aware of it. It had gotten easier for him to have a name to call them by, even if it was only in his own head. He searched his mind for any stories of such creatures but couldn't find anything. It was strange, he could not recall people or places but he could remember old stories.

He went over to the largest fireplace, where the old woman sat. He harked to make his presence known. He was not entirely comfortable around her; he could tell that she didn't approve of him being there. He wished he could return home and no longer be a nuisance to her but the medic in him knew that he was not well enough to venture out into the wilderness on his own in search for something he didn't know what it was.

"You should sleep" the old woman said.

"I have slept enough" Merry replied and sat down next to her. "I need to be up and about and try my legs."

"What is your name?" she asked him.

"Honestly… I don't know" he said and sighed. "How can one forget one's own name? Out of all things that would be something to remember… What is your name?"

"I am Glagah."

"Glagah" Merry repeated. "I want to thank you Glagah. Without the help of you and your people I would not have lived."

"You are lucky you are doing well now" Glagah said.

Merry made a face. Doing well were hardly the words he would choose but he knew it must simply be a linguistic mistake. Glagah's language was broken and it was amazing that she was able to communicate with him at all.

"Tomorrow we leave" she said. "We must move."

"I hope I haven't been keeping you" Merry said. "I don't know that I am entirely fit to travel just yet but I will do my best."

"We go" Glagah said. "You stay."

Merry stared at her with a gaping mouth. She couldn't be serious. There was no way that he would be able to survive on his own out in the wilderness. He was too ill to find shelter and food and he had no tools.

Glagah told him to go get some sleep. She was obviously done talking. She rose and walked off, leaving him alone. Merry wondered what would become of him when they all left.

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XX

"Glagah we can't leave it" Herb insisted. "It will die! How is it supposed to find food? It doesn't know where it comes from and even if it did it wouldn't be able to find its way back. Not before dying of starvation."

Glagah sighed deeply but realised it was no use to argue. Herb and a few others seemed to have gotten attached to the creature and refused to leave it. And she knew that Herb was right. If they left the being he would not survive.

"Think about it Glagah…" Herb said. "If we leave it to die then all of our work will have been in vain."

"If it dies it cannot give away our secrets" Glagah retorted.

"Who is it going to tell our secrets to? It remembers no one. By the time it is well enough to return to its own people it will feel gratitude towards us. Trust me on this Glagah, no one will find out about us."

Glagah was far from convinced but went along with the request to bring the creature. She knew when it was best not to fight her own, and she couldn't argue with the fact that their strange guest would not survive on its own.

Herb hurried off to find some strong men to assist him and before everyone had packed and was ready to break their camp they had constructed a primitive gurney for Merry to lie on. The fingots were surprisingly strong for their short height but it still took four of them to carry the gurney without breaking their backs. Merry was scarcely aware of what was happening, Herb had given him something to make him sleep so that he wouldn't move around and cause the carriers problems.

The fingots left their campsite and as soon as the last one had disappeared from sight there was no telling that they had ever been there.

XX
XX

Before long the fingots made themselves a new camp where they stayed for 23 days. Merry's strength returned but not his memories. He desperately wished he had someone to talk to, he felt lonely and he had a distinct feeling that loneliness was not an emotion he had known well. But the only one who spoke the Common Tongue was Glagah and she was very wary around him. The only way Merry knew of to communicate was to try and get the fingots to teach him their language. He wasn't very successful but at least he had a few phrases down and could name a few nouns before the time came for the fingots to head off to their next camp.

Merry found himself wondering what they had planned to do with him this time around. He was doing much better now than he had a month ago, yet he was far from certain that he could survive on his own out in the wilderness. He approached Glagah as soon as he noticed that the fingots were making preparations to leave again. He didn't think it would help to beat around the bush, especially since he and Glagah barely spoke the same language, so he just asked her straight out. No answer came for a while and Merry was starting to feel desperate.

"I know that I am a burden to you" he said. "I know you don't like having me here… But I honestly don't know what else to do or where else to go. I don't know where I belong anymore. I'm even farther away from home than I was when you first found me. Yet even if my home was just an hour's walk from here I would not know in which direction to walk. And I don't know how I am to survive out here when I might have to do so indefinitely."

Glagah gave him a look. She had asked everyone in her tribe if they knew of a place nearby where the tall folks lived but since the fingots very rarely left their camps other than to travel or hunt nobody had ever seen any tall folks, let alone a place where they lived. Glagah found herself pitying this creature that had no family, no tribe, no security and no memory. Then and there she made a decision which would affect all of them more than she realised.

"You will go with us" she said. "Until you remember where you belong you will go with us. But on one condition."

"Name it."

"When you return to your own people you must never tell them where you have been. You must forget about us the second you lose sight of us."

Merry nodded slowly.

"I understand" he said. "I know how important it can be to stay out of sight and knowledge. Don't ask me how I know…"

Glagah grunted, Merry assumed it meant she was pleased that he would keep their secret safe. He smiled at her.

"Glagah… How do you say thank you in your tongue?"

"Tekym askar" the old woman said.

"Tekym askar, Glagah" Merry said and gave her a light pat on the shoulder. "I will go with you tomorrow then. Walking on my own this time, at least partly."

He went back to the spot where he slept and crawled up on his side. Something told him that he and Glagah might get along quite well in the future. Perhaps they might even become friends of some sort.

But in the warm June evening he felt cold all of a sudden, as soon as he thought of friends. There was something which he had not quite forgotten even though his mind was still a blur whenever he tried to remember anything before waking up with the fingots. There was somebody out there which he felt was calling him. There was something unresolved with someone and it had left a big enough impression in his mind to refuse to be forgotten about. But whenever he tried to see a face or hear a name the memory slipped away from him. Whoever this friend was and whatever they had been doing before they were separated it was now a mystery to him.

XX
XX

His memories did not return. Merry's stay with the fingots grew longer and longer, until he began to feel almost like one of them. He learned to get by in their language, although only the most necessary words and phrases. The fingots were always very quiet, they didn't speak much and when they did they spoke in low voices, making it hard for Merry to hear and understand them and to learn their language. He preferred talking to Glagah who was getting better at the Common Tongue as Merry tried to teach her more.

The fingots slept out in the open every night, something Merry was not quite comfortable with. After a few months they made a tent-like arrangement for him which he accepted with a lot of gratitude. He felt more accepted among them when he had his own tent, more like he was one of them. If they wanted him gone they wouldn't have gone through the trouble of making the tent for him.

When summer turned into autumn and winter drew near Merry began to wonder where these beings spent their winters. He soon learned that they didn't change their habits just because it grew colder. They dug small holes in the ground if it was really cold but otherwise they slept out in the open as they always did. Merry felt even more at home when they began to dig holes, it felt very familiar to him.

The fingots made him some warmer clothes to wear but it proved to be a bit of a problem. The fingots all wore trousers and they had made a good pair for Merry, but none of them wore anything on their upper bodies and they had no clue how to make a shirt. Merry ended up making one for himself, a very primitive one but at least it was better than the torn-up shirt he had worn thus far.

As time went by Merry grew to understand their culture. They were nomads, staying only at one camp for 23 days before they moved on. They had a specific route that they travelled by and it took them ten to eleven years to go around in a full circle. With sadness in his heart Merry realised that they were leading him further and further away from where his real home was. Even though he was content with the fingots he knew he didn't belong there. And there was that someone who was calling out for him somewhere.

It took Merry most of summer to notice that magical rituals were a large part of the fingots' culture. Every time the moon was full Glagah and three of the wisest would gather at midnight and perform rituals which seemed like something voodoo like to Merry. His curiosity was woken and he made sure to watch them for a while when they were performing their rituals. That ended when Glagah noticed him and gave him a big telling-off for spying on their private affairs.

Since he still couldn't recall his name the fingots called Merry Kali, which was their word for creature. When Merry found out exactly what it meant he didn't know whether to feel offended or amused. By that time he had lived with the fingots for three years and didn't feel like he was a creature to them anymore. They had gotten to know each other well and he had hoped they saw him more as one of them. But the name Kali had been given to him during his first summer with them and nobody saw any reason to give him a new name later on.

XX
XX

When a decade had passed and the fingots had travelled full circle Merry found himself back at the campsite where they had first brought him. At first he didn't recognise the surroundings but when Herb told him where they were a strange feeling came over him. The fingots noticed that he wasn't really himself but nobody asked any questions. Nobody except for Glagah, who sat down with him by the fireplace a few nights before they were to move to their next campsite.

"What is bothering you?" she asked.

"I don't know…" Merry said with a sigh and stared into the fire. "Perhaps it is just because we are back where I first came to live with you. Being back here… You know that friend I have always been talking about? The one I know I had even though I can't remember the face or name?"

"The one you had some unfinished business with" Glagah said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. It's been a long time but this friend has stuck with me. I've been thinking about it more during these past days."

"You tall people are a mystery to me" Glagah said and sighed. "You love, you foolish beings."

Merry shrugged his shoulders. He knew that love wasn't a common concept among the fingots. They looked after each other and took care of each other but they did not love. At least not like the taller folks did.

"Tell me Glagah" he said. "What is it that you have against love?"

"Love is destructive" she said and waved a finger at Merry. "Mark my words; it is far more destructive than hate."

"How is that?"

"Part of your soul has been pining all these years Kali because of the love you have for that friend of yours. Love demands things of you, love requires sacrifices. If those you love feel the same about you they take a part of your soul. If they do not feel the same then they can crush you with a single word. And you and your kin are foolish enough to throw your lives away for love. Whether it is dying for someone else's sake or honouring their memory long after they have disappeared. Once you have begun to love you will never be free ever again."

Merry snorted.

"Yet what is a life without love?" he asked her."If you love no one then where is the joy in your life? And without people loving you how can you make it through the hard times in your life? Perhaps love does take its toll but I would rather love and hurt than to feel nothing."

"That is your choice" Glagah said. "And it is your curse."

She rose and left the fire to get some sleep. Merry didn't move. He looked at the flames and wondered if he was happy. Since he had been with the fingots he had not loved. Sure he cared for them, many of them were good friends, but he did not love any of them, as siblings or lovers. And perhaps that kept him from having to make a lot of sacrifices. But it also meant that there was no real joy in his life.

With a yawn he decided to leave the fire and get some sleep as well. Not having anybody to love was a small price to pay considering that the fingots had kept him alive for all these years. He was not about to be ungrateful.

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We're almost at the end, folks... Just a few more chapters to go! I hope this chapter didn't seem too rushed, it was hard to make it make sense without being a whole fanfic series in itself.

Which brings me to something... I've been working on an "appendix" for this fanfic, a series of stories which go deeper into different characters' thougths and feelings, explore events which aren't portrayed within the actual story and bring a bit more insight hopefully. They wouldn't really work within the story itself but I have written them down anyways and I will be posting them sometime in the future.

How does this concern you as the reader? Well I'm hoping to perhaps get some more ideas from all you fine people! If there are any events you found unclear or anything you might like to know more about then please let me know and I'll try to write it.

So give me your thoughts and ideas if you have any, and if not I will just see you in the next chapter! insert smiley here