Nosedive felt like dragging his feet as they neared the area his brother was supposedly at. He wanted to see Wildwing and make sure he was okay, sure, but to have his only sibling not recognize him?
The thought terrified him.
En route Frank asked Nosedive about how Wildwing ended up here. When Nosedive mentioned Old Ways Worshippers, though, Frank went on a brief tirade over the horrible acts the traitors had been doing since the Invasion ended. Nosedive occasionally affirmed he was listening with one-worded responses, even though most of what Frank was going off about he hadn't been around to witness. Nosedive's mind eventually began to wander as they walked through the large settlement.
"Here we are," Frank said suddenly, causing Nosedive to jump a little. They were in front of a communal hut that looked more like a building than a hut made of logs and grass.
Unlike most of Puckworld, the weather in the southern hemisphere did manage to warm up for a few months, allowing the traditionalists to use wood and other natural products to build their homes. Elsewhere—where the weather was far colder and harsher—contemporary igloos were used, at least in the non-civilized areas.
"Shall we?" Frank asked again. Nosedive realized the archaeologist was looking at him expectantly.
The blonde duck swallowed and nodded. Frank opened the large wooden door and walked in, Nosedive following.
Inside the building appeared to be a mess hall, and various traditionalists were seated amongst long tables eating and conversing socially. Some looked up when they entered, but aside from a few waves to Frank they didn't seem to mind or care about Nosedive's presence.
Unlike some of the other cultures he and Mallory had come across, this one was much friendlier to outside folk.
Nosedive was glad for that, because if Wildwing was without memory and had been found by a hostile culture….
Frank walked towards the far end of the mess hall, Nosedive following. When they reached the other side there was a small staircase nearly hidden in the shadows. Frank went up them with Nosedive trailing.
For a group that shunned technology, they sure know how to build, Nosedive thought as the stairs zigzagged up to the second floor.
They ended up in a long hall with multiple doors lining each wall. Frank walked to the third one to the right and knocked lightly.
"Come in," a muffled voice responded.
Nosedive's voice caught in his throat when he realized it was his brother.
Frank opened the door and entered, leaving it open for Nosedive to follow.
The blonde duck took a step forward and faltered. He took a deep breath and made the next two steps into the doorway.
Wildwing was sitting on a small bed in traditionalist clothing—white robes—and was reading a book by candlelight. He had stopped when Frank entered, but looked curiously at Nosedive when he came into view.
"It looks like you were missed," Frank said, indicating Nosedive.
Wildwing stood up and appeared slightly tense as he looked back and forth at the two male ducks. "Are you sure he's … he's here with good intentions?"
Frank nodded. "They had some good proof to show for themselves, Perntis."
"Perntis?" Nosedive asked, confused.
"Oh, it's the name the traditionalists gave him when they found him. It means 'lost' in their language."
Wildwing put his book down on the same table the candle was on. He kept his eyes wearily on Nosedive. "You know who I am?"
Seeing his brother look at him was hard for Nosedive: Wildwing's eyes showed no familiarity, no love. It was like looking at a stranger.
"Yeah," Nosedive finally responded. "I'm Nosedive, and you're Wildwing Flashblade. You're my brother."
Mallory eventually made her way to the small tent Frank had told her to wait in. She used her COM to contact Tanya, Duke and Grin and let them know they'd found their missing leader, as well as his current condition. Tanya was insistent that the amnesia was only temporary and most likely the result of the misfired spell.
Mallory wasn't as optimistic.
They would contact the Council and let them know they'd found Wildwing before heading back to headquarters. Barring any tactical disasters Mallory had told them they'd be bringing Wildwing home tomorrow.
If he'd be willing to go with them, anyways.
After the call Mallory paced in the small tent, unable to sit down and rest. Frank's little abode was full of gadgets that would offend most traditionalists, but they seemed to accept his presence here well enough. A table in the far corner housed various objects that must've been dug up in the area: bone fragments, pottery, spear heads … this area was a treasure trove for archaeologists, that was for sure. Southern Puckworld was considered to be the home of mallard ancestors, not to mention where Drake DuCaine found the mask.
The reminder of the mask caused Mallory's hand to absently rest on the pouch attached to her utility belt. Wildwing hadn't been wearing the mask when they'd been attacked, and after his disappearance the team had unanimously nominated her as temporary captain.
It was a position she reluctantly took, and she steadfastly refused to wear the mask that now resided inside the pouch her hand was resting upon.
After their official announcement to the world the mask would be returned to the government for safe keeping. Until then, as far as Mallory was concerned, it only belonged to one duck:
Wildwing.
A female mallard suddenly entered the tent, startling both Mallory and the newcomer.
"I'm sorry! I didn't realize Frank had company."
Mallory shook her head. "He doesn't, really." The female mallard—a light brown-feathered traditionalist—looked at the redhead questioningly.
Mallory added, "My teammate and I are here for the duck you found a week ago."
"The lost one?" the traditionalist asked, tilting her head at Mallory. Her hair was nearly the same color as her feathers and was braided in the customary traditionalist fashion.
Mallory nodded in affirmation, her brow furrowing. Despite the duck's appearance the female just didn't seem like a traditionalist.
To further Mallory's suspicions the duck walked over to a nearby laptop and began typing away.
"I actually found him with a few villagers here while out hunting. He was unconscious then so I didn't get a chance to talk with him, but he definitely didn't seem like he was from around here." The female looked back up at Mallory and smiled. "I'm Danexis, by the way."
"Mallory," the redhead responded. "I'm sorry, but are you…?"
Danexis realized Mallory was looking questioningly at her and at the computer she was typing on. Her eyes widened and she grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I forget I'm wearing this stuff sometimes. I'm Frank's apprentice, and unlike him I'm learning the culture by being a part of it. He's too close-minded to give it a shot, I'm afraid."
"Ah," Mallory supplied, at least clearing that up. "You said you found Wildwing?"
Danexis turned back to the laptop. "Wildwing. Nice name. But yeah, we were out hunting for game when we found him in some bushes. By the time we got him back here the sorcerers here—er, doctors in our terms—took over and haven't really let anyone other than Frank see him." She finished typing on the computer and looked back up to Mallory. "How do you know him?"
Mallory looked away briefly. "I'm his lifemate."
A look of dawning came over Danexis and her expression became sympathetic. "I'm sorry, I know it must be hard with him missing his memories. You must be the redhead he dreams about, then."
"I thought you didn't talk to him?"
"Oh, I don't. But Frank's been filling me in on all the details like a gossip monger." Danexis closed the laptop lid and retrieved some files from one of the drawers in the table. "I don't mean to pry, but do you know what he means by beakless and featherless demons?"
Mallory breathed out a small laugh. "Yeah. They're aliens we came across when we chased Dragaunas through Dimensional Limbo."
Danexis frowned at Mallory, obviously confused. "Dragaunas? Dimensional Limbo?"
"We're members of the Strike Force. We returned home a few weeks ago."
Danexis' eyes widened. "So the rumors are true!" The brown-feathered duck frowned again. "How did Pernt—I mean Wildwing—end up here?"
"We got attacked by Old Ways Worshippers."
"They've been quite the nuisance in Metropolis, I heard. They're almost demonic from all the Old Ways magic they've used, too."
"Hmm," Mallory acknowledged the female but her mind was elsewhere. She glanced out the tent anxiously for the hundredth time that evening.
Danexis took her papers and headed toward the exit of the tent. "I'll leave you be. I know this won't mean much, but Frank said Wildwing talked quite a bit about you. That must mean something."
"He didn't even know if I was a friend or enemy," Mallory sighed, her pacing resuming.
"That was because in the dream you were sparring. He felt like it was for fun, but with all his other nightmares it was hard to be sure. But he knew you meant something to him, good or bad."
Mallory, for the first time since Wildwing went missing, genuinely smiled at Danexis. "I guess that's something, at least," she simply said.
Danexis smiled back, only lingering in the doorway for a moment longer before exiting quietly.
Maybe jogging Wildwing's memories wouldn't be too hard, after all.
It was a belief to cling to, at least.
When the tent flap opened again Nosedive came through. Mallory had resorted herself to sitting at the desk chair, one of her elbows resting on the table and her hand holding her head up. When she saw her brother-in-law she stood up anxiously.
Nosedive looked exhausted. "He doesn't remember anything," he stated quietly.
Mallory's hope faltered slightly. "Seeing you didn't help at all?"
Nosedive shook his head, walking up to Frank's cot and sitting on it dejectedly. "Nope. It's like on the outside, he's Wildwing, but on the inside … it's like talking to a stranger."
Both were quiet for a few moments, the reality of the situation sinking in even further. "But he's okay?" Mallory finally broke the silence.
"Yeah, physically he looks good. No bumps on the head so the amnesia's gotta be from that spell."
"Maybe there's a way to reverse it, then," Mallory countered, though her voice gave away her skepticism on the idea.
Nosedive rubbed his face tiredly. "Yeah, maybe." He looked up at the redhead, who still stood by the desk. "Frank's outside, he'll take you to him."
"What about his suspicions?"
Nosedive shrugged. "I don't think he really believed me when I told him I was his brother, but he didn't outright reject it either. I think deep down he felt it was the truth, but his defenses are up in case it's not. He agreed to meet with you, though."
"Did you tell him who I was?"
"Nah, I think it'll be better coming from you," Nosedive replied. "He's wearing his ring so he must know he's mated, but I think he was afraid to ask."
Mallory sighed, her hands wringing together anxiously. "What else did you tell him?"
"He asked about his nightmares mostly, so I told him about being in the Strike Force and going to Earth. Ironically he remembered the Invasion—he could remember being in prison there for a while. But even though I was with him during that time, he couldn't place me there."
"Selective amnesia."
Mallory and Nosedive looked up to see Frank standing in the tent's doorway. "It's pretty common with hits to the head because certain parts of your brain store certain memories. Not sure how it works with Old Ways magic spells, though."
Neither of the other two occupants in the room had an answer for him. Frank looked to Mallory and added, "Ready?"
She didn't answer but walked up to him, and together they made their way to where Wildwing was staying.
Even though she didn't know it, Mallory's feet dragged just as much as Nosedive's.