Well, would you look at that! I made two updates to this story in less than a year. incredible I must say lol!
Anyway, welcome everyone to the fifth chapter of The Mind Forgets But The Heart Doesn't.
I don't have much to say other than I hope this chapter lives up to everyone's expectations and it's enjoyable to read.
The soft and cheerful chirps of birds filled the air, the tiny colourful creatures returning to their nests after a hard day of foraging, roosting in the trees overlooking a quiet and deserted cobblestone road. However, the bird's peaceful and quiet rest was quickly interrupted by a low distant but rapidly approaching rumble, one that as it grew closer quickly caused all of them to scatter into the air, as a carriage pulled by two ground dragons approached at high speed.
The speeding carriage was relatively modest in appearance compared to most carriages in the capital, its body a deep maroon colour with very sparse gold trimming and highlights. Its simplicity and modest nature were very much in the style of the person that it served, who compared to most other nobles, always preferred modesty and practicality over excessive shows of wealth.
Yet as the carriage went over a bump in the cobblestone path, kicking up small rocks and dust which somewhat tarnished its vibrant maroon exterior, the sole occupant of the carriage couldn't have cared less if the entire carriage had miraculously burst into flames at that moment.
Crusch's mind was an absolute mess, her head resting in one of her hands as she gently pinched the bridge of her nose, an audible sigh of exasperation exiting her lips and filling the inside of the carriage.
Her encounter/interrogation of the witch cultist had been more than just fruitless, going into that dungeon she half expected not to find any answers to her questions…Yet what she had not expected, was to come out of that place with even more revelations and questions than she already had.
The carriage quickly ran over another noticeable bump, jostling the duchess in her seat, and causing the intensity of her ongoing headache to only increase.
"Dammit!"
Crusch let her frustration get the better of her, quickly slamming a closed fist into the side of the carriage, the pain of her fist from impacting the hardwood of the carriage frame only making her frustration grow.
"Dammit all!" She hissed under her breath, clenching her balled fest so hard that she felt her nails beginning to painfully dig into her own palm.
Going to see the cultist for herself was a mistake, she could see that now. She hadn't gained any answers, in fact, visiting him had simply given her more questions to consider, many of which she didn't think she would ever be in the right frame of mind to to even comprehend.
Putting her head in both of her hands Crusch felt her headache increase even more, graduating from a simple headache to a full-on migraine. The pressure inside her head made it feel like her skull was going to explode.
The supposed cultist had done something to her, that was the only reasonable explanation she could think of at this moment. Considering that when she thought about him the pressure inside her brain only increased... And there was also the matter of the other thing that had happened while she was in contact with him-
'ring, ring'
The abrupt and unexpected ringing completely shattered Crusch's contemplation, her eyes quickly snapping to the diminutive bell, situated next to the small window in the very front of the carriage.
"What is it!?"
Her response was short and snappy, the frustration easily evident in Crusch's tone, as a gloved hand quickly slid the window to one side.
"Lady Crusch... We will arrive back at the manor very soon" Wilhelm's face was visible through the now-open window, his aged features holding a look of deep concern, as he tried to keep one eye on the road while also looking at his mistress.
Crusch simply and dismissively waved one of her hands as a response, turning her head to observe the rows of trees that passed the carriage by as she and it continued along their journey.
Even though she could no longer see him in the peripheral of her vision. His concerned gaze lingered on her for longer than she would have liked before he let out a quiet sigh, turning his attention back to the road in front of him.
She felt somewhat guilty at snapping and dismissing him in such a manner, fidgeting in her seat slightly as she occasionally stole glances at the back of his head. In her own defence, she knew that Wilhelm wouldn't take it personally, considering he was easily able to pick up on how perturbed she truly was after visiting the cultist.
Still though...
It didn't stop Crusch from feeling extremely guilty about what she had just done. The guilt eating away at her until she couldn't take it. A quiet curse quickly exited her lips as she cleared her throat to address Wilhelm. Her gaze remaining locked on the rows of passing trees on the side of the road.
"Wilhelm... I'm sorry" Crusch paused for a moment, trying to collect her words before continuing. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that"
Crusch didn't turn her eyes away from the window, Not noticing Wilhelm turn his head just enough so he could see her at the periphery of his Vision.
He was thankful for her apology but from his point of view, she didn't need to apologise because ultimately she was his master which meant that she could speak to him however she wished. But also because he understood that whatever had happened between her and the cultist had severely rattled her.
"There's no need to apologise lady Crusch" Was all that Wilhelm said as he turned both eyes back to the road. Their journey nearing its end as the Karsten manor became visible on the horizon.
Yet as Wilhelm pulled on the reins to slow the pace of the ground dragons pulling the carriage, a bout of curiosity overtook him. Preparing himself to ask a question that he knew was deeply inappropriate for someone of his station to ask. Yet it had been on his mind since they had left the palace.
"My lady... I know it's inappropriate of me to ask..." Wilhelm kept his eyes on the road, yet he felt the duchess's gaze snap to the back of his head as the words left his mouth.
"But... What exactly happened with the cultist... In that dungeon?"
. . . . . . . . . .
"Dammit!... That's the third time"
Crusch managed to catch herself, the Lantern causing elaborate Shadows to race across the stone walls of the dungeon as it shook in her hands after almost falling.
Once again she had almost tripped on a loose cobblestone that she had failed to see, because of the complete pitch-blackness of this level of the dungeon. She was beginning to wonder why the palace Knights kept this level of the dungeon completely pitch black, yet stopped herself when she remembered the kinds of prisoners this part of the dungeon was reserved for.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Crusch pressed on, keeping the lantern out in front of her, keeping a lookout for any more potentially lose cobblestones that could trip her up.
Eventually, she arrived at her destination, a locked cell that from the outside looked completely unremarkable. Yet stepping closer to the cell's door and producing the key that one of the guards had given her.
Crusch was under no illusion that the person that was imprisoned inside, was perhaps one of the most single dangerous people that she would ever meet. And maybe even the very person that was responsible for her current condition.
Inserting the key into the Keyhole. Crusch was momentarily surprised at how smooth the lock mechanism was as she turned the key, the heavy-duty locking mechanism making a noticeably loud clunk as its internal workings moved.
Stepping back the door itself swung open slightly under its own weight once the lock was fully disengaged. The screeching sound of the incredibly rusty hinges caused momentary discomfort for Crusch, before she quickly shook it away, using her free hand to open the admittedly quite heavy iron door.
As soon as the door was fully opened, Crusch found herself hit by a wave of putrid odour, one so strong that it caused her to gag and wretch. It was the stench of decay, rot and death, yet even with the smell invading her body, she pushed on stepping into the cell lantern in hand.
However, the lantern did very little to illuminate the interior of the cell, as if there was some kind of all-consuming black void that made up the darkness of the cell's interior, sapping the very light from the lantern in her hands.
Yet as Crusch cautiously made her way deeper into the pitch-black cell, a figure began to materialise at the edge of the lanterns light. one that was chained to the wall with metal chains that were so big and heavy, that they were more suited for containing a vicious ground dragon than any human being.
As the individual was fully bathed in the lantern's light. Crusch found herself stopping in her tracks and even stepping back, bringing her hand up to her mouth in horror as she finally saw the deplorable state of the individual she had come all this way to see.
The young man's body was almost skeletal, the lantern providing just enough illumination to show just how skinny and emaciated he was. Yet what made her step back in shock was his face.
His gaunt and scar-covered face was eerily familiar, eliciting a strange and uncontrollable bout of sadness to overtake her, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes and rolling down her cheeks before she could stop them.
Even though the tears continued to come, Crusch try to best to wipe them away she moved closer, more detail about the horrific condition of the coldest body and face being revealed as the lantern got closer.
Yet for a second time, she felt herself come to a halt, a lump forming in her throat as her gaze came to rest on the cultist's most noticeable feature...
His eyes... His onyx-black eyes
Crusch, found herself staring into his black orbs. Being hit by a powerful sensation of familiarity and incredible Sadness, that seemingly sprung for from the very depths of her soul.
This feeling was similar to one she had experienced many times since her memory had been erased, seeing and interacting with people and objects that she had familiarity with always elicited a similar feeling to this.
Yet...
This was different.
She knew these eyes... she knew the dead and lifeless gaze that was once filled with light and determination.
Shaking her head, Crusch tried to get a hold of herself. Quickly getting down to one knee in front of the cultist, gently putting the lantern down next to her so it illuminated both him and her as she opened her mouth to address him.
However as she opened her mouth, she found no words emerged, an oppressive silence only interrupted by the occasional drip of water filling the air as she desperately tried to think of the right words to say. She had come all this way to see this cultist, seeking answers to questions that had been burning in the back of her mind since she had awoken.
And yet... She found herself completely speechless, unable to speak let alone ask any questions.
As the deathly silence dragged on, Crusch found her frustration getting the better of her as she quietly cursed under her breath. Stealing her gaze as she finally managed to force out some words.
"I've come looking for answers..." Crusch spoke quietly, her voice belly above a whisper but just loud enough so she could be heard. However, the cultist did not react, not even so much as a twitch indicating that he had heard what she had said.
Feeling frustration beginning to build inside her, Crusch pushed on.
"I have questions... and I believe that you may have the answers I seek to my questions" Again no reaction was elicited from the young man, only causing her frustration to grow even more.
"Being silent will not accomplish you anything... If you answer my questions I will see to your punishment being reduced" Again no reaction, not even the slightest twitch was given to her words
Crusch felt her anger and frustration beginning to boil over, managing to completely overpower the strange sadness that welled up from her heart as she quickly grabbed a hold of the cultist's shoulder.
"Answer me dammit! you filthy cultist!" Despite vigorously shaking him as the anger-induced words left her mouth, the cultist still gave no reaction.
Releasing her hold on his shoulder, Crusch quickly stood up to her full height, the anger and frustration flowing through her causing her to bring her foot back in an attempt to kick the cultist in an attempt to relieve her overwhelming anger.
Yet looking down at the chained-up young man, his body already beyond repair and barely clinging to life itself, she felt something break through the rage and anger.
lowering her foot back to the ground, Crusch didn't even realise tears were flowing down her cheeks, looking at this broken cultist…
No broken young man in front of her she felt nothing but...
Pity
Overwhelming pity, for somebody who her rational mind told her didn't deserve.
Crusch clenched her fists, desperately trying to hold onto the rage and anger, but the longer she looked at this supposed cultist in front of her, the more she felt the ache her heart grow. It didn't make sense why she would feel like this for somebody who belonged to a group that was a manifestation of evil itself.
Yet as she tried to hold back her own tears, while also trying to rationalise her feelings. She saw something that immediately caused her breath to hitch in her throat, it was so subtle that for a single moment, she thought it might have been a trick in the dim light.
Lowering herself down to one knee, the tears still flowing from her eyes yet her gaze hardened, as she stared into the black orbs the supposed cultist did something unexpected...
And he stared back
Staring into his eyes as if she was trying to bore a hole in his head they still looked dead and lifeless, yet in the dim light of the now dying lantern... she saw something.
There was a momentary spark.
An impossibly faint and quick flicker of life in the very recesses of his onyx-black eyes, it was impossible faint yet it was there. But before she could recover from the momentary shock, the young man did something else that nearly made her jump back in surprise.
His gaze slowly began to shift...
Sluggishly tracing up her face until he was staring into her own eyes. She saw his black pupils struggle to adjust, clearly having a hard time keeping her in focus. Whether this was because of his lack of strength or because his eyes were damaged in some way she could not know.
Crusch unlike before found herself almost mesmerised looking into his eyes, the horrifying sensation of familiarity that was deep within her was only made worse by him staring back at her and actually acknowledging her presence.
She felt the tears run down her cheeks with a renewed vigour, a quiet sub uncontrollably escaping her lips before she could cover her mouth to stop it.
Crusch wanted to back away, she wanted to turn and run, yet her body was seemingly rooted to the spot not hearing her command as she quietly wept in front of this supposed witch cultist.
A deep sense of revulsion and guilt, washed over her In waves, each one making her feel even more horrified and disgusted at herself. The rational part of her brain wanted to say that this was the witch cultist doing, that he was somehow influencing her emotions in some unknown plot.
Yet another part of her thought what would be the purpose of such an attack. What could be accomplished by messing with the emotions of somebody in such a way?
Crusch found herself unconsciously lowering herself even further, gradually getting closer until her face was only inches away from the cultist's. From this Incredibly close vantage point, every single detail about his face was visible even despite the dim light.
She could pick out every single cut, scar and blemish that dotted his, even the long dried marks from tears that had once flowed down his cheeks were visible to her.
It was also only now, upon getting so close to him that she realised something that perplexed her.
His hair...
For some inexplicable reason she had expected his hair to be black, maybe it was because of the little illumination that the lantern gave or simply just her imagination... But his hair was far from being black at all.
Instead, it was made up of a mottled arrangement of light greys and whites, with occasional black strands interweaved and running throughout his unkempt hair like black veins.
Crusch continued to stare into his eyes, her mouth opening without her realising as a question formed on the tip of her tongue.
"Just... Who are you!"
The sound of her voice echoed around the dark cell, her words hanging in the air like an ominous dark omen before they were swallowed up by an all-consuming and deafening silence.
Yet the Silence was quickly interrupted by a wet ragged cough, one that emanated from the duchess herself as she backed away from the chained-up young man. Coughing violently as she quickly lost her footing. Landing roughly on her behind, as her entire body shook with each wet cough that exited her mouth.
Bringing a hand up to her mouth Crusch tried and failed to suppress another wet cough from exiting her mouth. Even in the dim light, she could see blood on her white glove, with a small amount of it oozing from the corner of her mouth as another coughing fit overtook her.
Each cough felt like a cannonball hitting her chest, causing pain to shoot throughout her entire chest. Yet even though the pain she was in was almost excruciating, she managed to overcome the pain quickly retrieving a handkerchief from her pocket, as she tried to wipe away the blood from the corner of her mouth.
The gradually increasing frequency of her coughing fits, as well as the general sickness itself left no illusion in her mind.
The illness that afflicted her was getting worse
Everyone around her, especially Felix and Wilhelm tried to reassure her that it was not as bad as it seemed, and while she appreciated their optimism. Crusch even without her memories was no fool.
Her health and strength dwindled by the day, to the point where even if they did find a cure for the dragon blood sickness that afflicted her, it could already be too late for her.
With another coughing fit quickly starting up, Crusch momentarily didn't register a new sound that began to echo around the dark cell. One that was also accompanied by the sound of noticeably slow and sluggish shuffling.
However as she managed to get her breathing under control she finally registered the new noises, her eyes widening as she quickly snapped her head up, only to find the face of the cultist, inches away from her own, his hands which were covered in cuts and scrapes both old and new, gently cupping her cheeks.
Almost instantly Crusch felt the pain in her chest and her entire body gradually dissipated, seemingly flowing out of her as it was replaced by a feeling of relief.
Yet the pain relief was the furthest from her mind as the grey-headed young man did something else completely unexpected.
He gently placed his forehead against her own, his black eyes closing as for the first time his facial expression changed, going from a look of complete lifelessness and indifference to something that resembled mild concentration.
Crusch felt her cheeks heat up considerably, a blush quickly covering her face at the close physical contact. Even though she wanted to move away, considering that he was a witch cultist, her body refused to listen to her, seemingly basking in the relief and comfort that came from the physical gesture.
She wasn't exactly sure how long the two of them stayed like this, it could have been hours or even days for all she knew. But finally, the young man released her from his grip, gently pulling his head away as he let go of her cheeks.
Crusch found herself simply staring, shock and confusion evident on her features as the cultist returned to his original position, his movement was incredibly slow and sluggish, small whimpers occasionally escaping his lips indicating that just the act of moving itself was incredibly painful for him.
Finally shaking the shock from her system, Crusch quickly got back to her feet, but immediately stopped when she noticed that she didn't have any trouble at all doing so. Taking in a deep breath which usually resulted in her feeling a bit of pain, she felt no pain whatsoever, in fact, she felt almost rejuvenated as if she had a new reserve of energy that had not been there previously.
Yet looking down at the young man, who had by now resumed his original position almost perfectly, Crusch felt a whole host of emotions wash over her, everything from confusion, fear, relief, anger and sadness
"How..."
"How did you do that!?" Crusch said a bit more aggressively than she intended, the words practically flying out of her mouth, as she picked up the young man by the scruff of his close.
She didn't even register, that she was holding him up off the ground. All she cared about was getting an answer. She needed to know what exactly he had done to her, because if he could relieve her of the dragon sickness, then there could be a possibility that-
Crusch didn't get to finish her train of thought, as the cultist, let out a loud and ragged cough, which was quickly followed by another equally as strong one which rattled his entire body.
Caught off guard and surprised by the sudden action, she let go of the young man, letting him fall to the floor with a loud thump, his cough only increasing in severity. The dim light from the Lantern revealed specs of fresh blood hitting the cobblestone in front of him as he covered his mouth with one of his hands.
Watching him wretch and cough, was incredibly bizarre and horrifying but not because the severity of his coughing.
The reason why she felt incredibly horrified, was because it conjured up an image in her mind, one that was incredibly fuzzy and hard to make sense of but felt eerily familiar.
She was in a bed, the sheets around her soaked in blood, on the right side of a bed and there was a familiar half-feline healer. tears rolled down his cheeks as he tightly gripped one of her hands and his own, his eyes holding nothing but fear.
Yet on the left side of her bed was somebody...
Somebody that it was impossible that had to make out yet felt eerily familiar.
However, when he touched her, she felt a sense of soothing relief wash over her, the mottled blotches on her skin gradually dissipating but not fully disappearing.
As soon as this happened the mysterious person began to cough violently, blood flying from their mouth as the feline healer got up from his seat, screaming something she couldn't make out, before rushing to the aid of the mysterious individual.
The eerily familiar image made her head spin, causing her to almost lose her balance as she let out a quiet groan of pain. The image fuzzy quickly faded from her mind but the severe headache that accompanied it remained.
However, one detail from the memory persisted one that caused her blood to go stone cold as she slowly looked down at the young man who was now beginning to recover from his coughing fit.
the mysterious person from her memory, was completely featureless everything about his appearance alluded her... Except for one critical detail.
His hair...
His hair was jet black.
Just like the cultist's was once.
Crusch quickly turned on the balls of her feet, almost forgetting about the lantern as she quickly scooped it up before hurriedly exiting the cell, not even caring that she had forgotten to lock it or even retrieve the key which she had left behind in her haste.
She needed to leave. She needed to get out of here before her mind exploded from the revelation that had just occurred to her.
Crusch wasn't sure why she instinctually knew what colour the young man's hair was. But the fact that the person from the strange memory and the cultist seemingly both had black hair. When black hair was incredibly rare and rarely seen, left a horrific pit in her stomach, one that felt like an all-consuming void that threatened to swallow her whole.
They couldn't be the same person... it was impossible...
The person locked up in that cell which she was now retreating from was a witch cultist. somebody who was for all intents and purposes was a walking manifestation of evil itself.
And Yet...
Coming to the set of stairs that lead out of this level of the dungeon. Crusch stopped in her tracks. Turning to look over her shoulder at the blackness and the cell that was hidden by it, uncertainty filled her eyes as a single horrifying thought entered her mind.
'He's is a cultist... He has to be...
'But... what if he isn't?'
. . . . . . . . . .
An uneasy silence filled the carriage as Crusch finished her recounting of what had transpired. The only interruption to the silence being the persistent rhythm of the carriage wheels against the cobblestone.
Wilhelm kept his gaze directed ahead, looking as if he had his full attention on the road. Yet that couldn't have been further from the truth, the events that the duchess had related to him certainly gave him much to think about.
Especially considering, that the cultist had seemingly and inexplicably been able to somewhat relieve and reverse the effects of Crusch's dragon blood sickness. Which didn't make any sense to the aged swordsman considering that even Felix-
Wilhelm's face noticeably hardened, feeling a wave of revulsion and shame wash over him at just the thought of the half-feline healer, but shaking away those feelings, he resumed his train of thought.
Someone like Felix, even despite his newly revealed... Unsavoury hobbies. Was without a shadow of a doubt the greatest healer of his generation. Yet even he was completely powerless to stop the advance of the dragon blood sickness.
So the fact that the supposed cultist was able to do so when even the most gifted healers couldn't certainly raise a lot of interesting questions for Wilhelm.
The silence between the sole occupant of the carriage, and the butler who was currently driving it persisted. Crusch decided not to say anything more, intent on letting the silence drag out for as long as possible to try and calm her racing mind.
Wilhelm despite having so many questions that he wanted to ask understood that it was not the time or the place to do so, considering that the events that she had relayed to him, had obviously put Crusch through an immense amount of stress.
As such Wilhelm decided to not bother her any further, as he pulled on the reins. Slowing the ground dragons and the carriage along with it as they all turned off the main road and began to make their way up the winding path that led back to the estate.
Still looking out the window, Crusch began to feel her nerves relaxing, feeling a bit calmer now that she was approaching the familiarity of her home, however as the carriage neared her estate.
A sinking and foreboding feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach, causing her to scram uncomfortably in her seat as it was accompanied by a disturbing thought.
'This is just the beginning... Something truly awful is coming'
Well, that was certainly an interesting chapter, wasn't it?
Crusch has finally come face-to-face with the supposed Archbishop, trying to gain answers to the questions that she has surrounding her memory loss. Yet she has come away with more questions and revelations than she could have possibly imagined.
Writing this chapter was actually quite enjoyable and even a bit relaxing, especially after the massive slog that was writing Chapter 7 and 8 for my dead Space story, considering that both of those chapters together equalled just over 100,000 words in total.
Seriously sometimes I wonder why I do that kind of thing to myself but then I remember that I like having extremely long chapters lol.
Anyway at the time of me writing this oputro, I'm not exactly in the best of health, I seem to have come down with the annual sickness unfortunately, although I seem to be on the mend thankfully, which is good because I plan to immediately get to work on writing Chapter 6 for this story so hopefully the wait won't be too long for that chapter.
Anyhow, that's enough rambling for me, I'm gonna go lie down and have a nice sleep, because my head really hurts, so to all my readers I'll catch you all next time.