Chapter two of a draft of a story “Memories of an Ex-Villain
Life made itself known by the dull pain in his head. It throbbed stronger and weaker in turns but never went away.
At some point, Gavin thought he heard Atticus Vinch the III weeping and calling his name. Why was he weeping? What was wrong?
The darkness shifted at one point when he felt a warmth in his head that spread to his shoulders. He heard indistinct voices, but as the warmth faded so did they.
He felt the warmth in intervals blanketing the pain while it lasted but always the throbbing returned. At last after one final one the pain faded completely and he fell into blessed nothingness.
Eventually he began dreaming. Meaningless dreams of faceless people and places he didn’t recognize, anger came, then despair. Atticus would call his name and he would run through the fog of people and indistinct places, calling back, trying to find him. He had to find him!
Eventually the dreams dispersed and he knew Atticus was calling him for real.
“Please wake up! Master please… wake up!”
“..Mmm. A… A…?” he weakly tried to reply, but he was so tired, exhausted, and could barely think.
“He’s awake! Healer! Healer..!”
The kitten’s voice faded.
“W..wait… Atticus…?” Gavin mumbled, confused. Healer? He tried to piece together what must have happened, but his mind was fuzzy and it was as if his head were stuffed with cotton. He could barely open his eyes.
An unfamiliar person, an old man, leaned over him, asking questions he didn’t understand, feeling his forehead, forcing an eye open to examine. Gavin tried to mumble replies but his tongue got all tied up.
The man looked away over his shoulder and addressed someone, “He’s coming around but slowly. Princess, you need to leave. He’ll only be distressed to see you and it will be bad for his recovery.”
“My recovery… Princess?” His head was a little less fuzzy, but nothing these people said made any sense. Was he hurt? Who were they?
“Master!” Atticus shoved his face into the sorcerer’s view, “You’re going to be okay! Take it easy, okay. You hit your head bad!”
“What happened? I can’t… can’t remember…”
The old man turned back to him, “It’ll come in time, don’t force it. Here, you have to drink this, it will help.”
Gavin felt his head and shoulders rise. Something cold and sour was poured into his mouth. He managed not to cough, swallowing it down. He didn’t feel any better. Laid back down, he tried to make out where he was. This… he didn’t know why but he knew it wasn’t his bed, his room. It was too small, there should be a canopy over him. Instead there was a wood ceiling. And the windows were wrong, there were curtains gently waving in a breeze, he couldn’t see much past but he thought it must be sunny out.
The old man said not to force the memories, so he closed his eyes and focused on breathing. His breaths were shallow, but grew stronger over time. Opening his eyes again the world came more into focus. Atticus was beside him, holding his master’s hand in his paws.
“Atticus… what happened?” Gavin asked, “I can’t remember anything…” Nothing at all, when he tried his mind was fogged.
“You fell down the stairs! Oh Master I’m so sorry!’ Atticus whimpered, “I was trying to save you from her but I tripped!”
“Stairs?” Gavin queried. “Who were you saving me from?”
“The lady! The Princess!”
Gavin gazed at his familiar blankly, “What princess?”
Atticus stared back with disbelief, “She came through the balcony and chased us down the hall!”
When Gavin gave no indication of understanding, Atticus asked, “She had winged boots? Her army broke through the outer wall and were fighting your troops in the courtyard? She killed Avante?”
“Avan..tay…” Gavin replied, “Avante… Avante is someone big… and red right?”
“Might be short term memory loss. Do you remember your name?” The healer asked.
Gavin blinked, “Of course I do. I’m Gavin. Gavin Vanderville. And you’re Atticus Vinch the 3rd.” he added, just to make sure he remembered, “My familiar.” He tilted his head to look at the healer, “I don’t know you.”
“You wouldn’t. This is our first meeting with you fully conscious,” he said kindly, “I’m Nathwin.”
“Oh…”
“Nothing else?” Nathwin asked, “Where you’re from?”
He thought on that, “A… I… a high place. I think.”
“The tower,” Atticus prompted.
A tower? Gavin gave it some thought, “Sounds right… Blue I think…”
“Blue?” Atticus raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Maybe not…” He could picture cool colored stone walls out a window as the sun set in the west casting a shadow on that side but… maybe he was wrong…? Blue stone and red cliffs just sounded right, but maybe not.
“Alright but… where are we, then?” He realized, remembering some of those first thoughts, that this was unfamiliar, that he remembered a different room.”
Atticus took a long breath, frustration on his face and Gavin immediately felt horrible for not knowing anything. Something serious clearly happened.
“We were captured, Master,” Atticus replied, “Do you remember you’re a sorcerer? The three Kingdoms? Evellia, Upora, Trevantus? You were the scourge of the three kingdoms!”
“Scourge?” That didn’t sound good, “Sorcerer? Wait…” he paused, “Sorcerer… yes… I’m a sorcerer. But… they…” he shifted his left hand, held in Atticus Vinch’s paws, he saw his pinky finger, examining the steel piece “The ring… it… it took them away… and there was… we thought someone had done it, but they hadn’t… and I can’t do magic… I remember… I was upset last… Were we arguing?”
Atticus relaxed, a relief in his eyes, “It’s coming back a little. I guess you could say we were fighting.” He described the scene leading up to the stumble and fall, “And now we’re here in Castle Flamelle of the Kingdom of Haiweth. I never even heard of them.”
“Doesn’t… I don’t remember… I don’t remember any princess, or Lalia… was she the princess?”
“No Master.” Atticus replied exasperatedly.
“Do you seriously not remember or are you just being stubborn?” came a woman’s voice.
A tall lady dressed in men’s apparel entered the already small room, frowning deeply at him.
The healer turned to raise a hand, “M’lady please don’t disturb the patient.” he requested.
“I’m sorry?” Gavin blinked.
“Leave him alone!” Atticus Vinch the III hissed.
Gavin gazed hazily up. The lady glared back. The green eyes, the red hair. Now in two braids pulled forward over her shoulders, a circlet on her head. She was tall.
“You… you fly… eyes… eye are… green…” he felt stupid as he stumbled, not sure if he was remembering her eyes or just struck by them, they seemed to burn as she glowered down.
“I’m sorry.” he ended lamely, looking away, “Am… am I in some kind of trouble?
“Understatement of the year,” she replied sarcastically, “You don’t remember pillaging and ransacking villages? Towns?”
“I-” Gavin began but was cut off.
“Murdering people? Making war on one or the other of the kingdoms? Keeping them from aiding each other or rebuilding?” the woman’s voice increased in hostility as she stalked closer until she was leaning over him, a hand slamming on the side table next to his head. Atticus was crouched down low, fur raised as he growled deep in his throat.
“I… I…” more and more upset at these lies, accusations… truths? He didn’t know what they were, but Gavin shook his head.
“I don’t! I’m sorry! Please stop!” he covered his eyes, beginning to cry, afraid of this woman looming over him and so confused as nothing came back to him.
“Princess please,” the healer demanded, “Your distressing him isn’t helping!”
“As he should be! The wretch-!”
“Get. Out.” The Healer hadn’t raised his voice particularly but it held such command that it halted the princess. She turned her head towards him and the two glared at each other.
“This is a house of healing. You have no right to raise your voice or frighten my patients. You can leave with dignity or be dragged out.”
“I’ll help!” Atticus snapped.
Despite how upset he was, Gavin was impressed the old man could stand up to such a frightening person. And at Atticus Vinch’s bravery. This Princess lady looked like she could snap anyone in half with her bare hands.
But she sneered and left, stalking out, head high.
Gavin gasped and swallowed, “Th-thank you.” he whispered.
“Of course,” Nathwin replied gently, “It’s alright. Here your past doesn’t mean anything. Until you’re healed you're just a sick man who needs help.”
Trembling, Gavin shrank down into the blankets, “Thank you.” he said again.
“It’s okay Master,” Atticus rubbed against Gavin’s shoulder, “It’s okay.”
Trying to take his mind off of the encounter, another question came to him.
“Atticus… if… we’re in another kingdom… it took a while to get there-here.”
“Yes?” Atticus queried, confused.
Gavin swallowed again, sniffling, “How long was I unconscious?”
“Errrrr…” Atticus looked to the healer.
Nathwin put a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, “Two months. You’ve been here in the healing house for almost three weeks.”
“G-goodness.” he tried to be bemused, to shake off the upsetting experience just now, “That’s a… a long time.”
“And I know you just woke up, but I think you should sleep again for a few hours after this upsetting and confusing experience.” Nathwin suggested.
The patient did not care for that.
“I… I think I’d prefer to be awake… just… let’s not talk about anything more.”
Atticus rubbed against him again and slipped into his arms, “It’s okay, Master.”
He wasn’t sure what he thought about being called “Master.” It didn’t feel right. But Gavin didn’t want to talk anymore. He gratefully held his familiar, stroking the soft black fur, finding some comfort. For now at least, he could have quiet while he mulled things over and tried to remember.
“Scourge of the three kingdoms” ran through his head over and over. Atticus said it like it was a good thing. But then the princess told him all those other things “Scourge” entailed.
Her raised, accusatory voice rang through his head, and despite himself, Gavin cried quietly, afraid and lost.
