Leonotis's eyes fluttered open, greeted by a soft, pulsating blue light. He blinked, the glow momentarily obscuring the figure above him. As his vision cleared, he saw a woman, her arms outstretched, the light radiating from her hands like a benevolent aura. Slowly, the luminescence receded, and she lowered her arms, settling back with a soft sigh.
"Thank goodness," the woman breathed, a visible wave of relief washing over her features. "You're awake, Leonotis."
Leonotis stared, his gaze clouded by a profound confusion. "Who... who are you?" His brow furrowed, a new, unsettling question forming. "Wait... who am I?" A tendril of panic coiled in his chest, tightening with the terrifying realization that his mind was an utter blank. No name, no place, no past.
The woman's shoulders slumped, a weary note entering her voice. "I feared this might happen. My name is Chinakah, and you're in my clinic."
Hours later, the bright, airy clinic, with its soothing green landscapes painted on the walls, had become a temporary haven. Leonotis, feeling a tremor of nervous energy rather than actual physical readiness, addressed Chinakah.
"Is this where I live?" he asked, a hopeful edge to his voice. The thought of a permanent home like this, filled with light and gentle comfort, was surprisingly appealing.
Chinakah offered a soft smile. "No, you live just across the street, Leonotis. When you're feeling up to it, we can go see it."
Leonotis's eyes widened with a sudden eagerness. "We can go now!" he insisted, pushing himself up. "I want to see it."
Chinakah, perhaps a little surprised by his sudden insistence, led him out. The walk was short, but as they stepped inside the hut across the street, Leonotis recoiled. The air thickened with a strange, heavy scent, and the walls, painted a stark, oppressive black, were adorned with a macabre collection of skulls and bones. Occult posters leered from every surface, and strange, unsettling artifacts cluttered every available space.
"Are you sure this is where I live?" Leonotis asked, his voice tinged with a distinct note of disgust, a shudder running through him. The contrast to the clinic was stark, chilling.
Chinakah hesitated, her own unease palpable. She shifted her weight, glancing around the unsettling decor. "Oh, yes," she said, her voice a touch too bright, too forced. "This is it."
They moved into a smaller room, a modest bed tucked into a corner. Chinakah swept an arm around the dismal space with an overly enthusiastic gesture. "Ah ha, this is your room!" she declared, her tone practically chirping. "Try looking through your things. I'm sure you... picked all this out yourself. I can confidently say this room is very much you."
Leonotis stared at the dark, cluttered space, a lump forming in his throat. "I can't believe this is my room," he muttered, the words barely a whisper. The idea that *he* had chosen any of this, that this reflected him, was deeply disturbing. It felt oppressive, sinister. He didn't want to set foot inside.
Chinakah saw the distress etched on his young face. She cleared her throat, trying for a more reassuring tone. "Well, you and your mother both have... black magic affinities, so this is the sort of aesthetic they usually go for. Why don't you go in and... take it in?"
Leonotis took one hesitant step, then spun back, his face pale, his eyes wide with an almost desperate plea. "I... I'll come back another day. Can I stay at the clinic a little longer?"
Chinakah sighed, a familiar weariness settling over her. "Of course, but I have other things to attend to. Just stay here for a little while and explore. If it gets too much, you can always come back to the clinic. It's just across the street."
"No, please, I don't want to be here!" Leonotis cried, rushing to Chinakah and wrapping his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her side. "I promise I won't be in your way!"
A soft smile softened Chinakah's features, and she gently patted his back. "Oh, alright," she relented. "But I really do need to go to town. Oh, I know," she said, her smile widening as an idea sparked. Leonotis looked up at her, curiosity replacing his fear.
Later, Leonotis was perched in the waiting room of the clinic, utterly absorbed in a book about swords and dragons, the strange, unsettling memories of his "home" momentarily forgotten. Chinakah sat at her desk, the soft scratch of her pen on paper the only sound. She glanced up at Leonotis, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. This boy is so different from the lonely, creepy child I used to know,* she mused. She remembered a mischievous boy, always playing mean tricks. *If I didn't know better, I'd say he was an innocent angel who never hurt a fly.
A sharp knock echoed through the quiet clinic, and Leonotis looked up just as a large man entered. He was an imposing figure with dreadlocks, a sharp fade haircut, and a vibrant multicolored bead necklace resting against a deep green robe. Sunlight glinted off his gold earrings, but it was the sword at his side that truly captured Leonotis's attention. It looked exceptionally well-maintained, razor-sharp, gleaming as if freshly oiled.
"Chinakah, you're all right!" the man boomed, his face breaking into a wide, relieved grin. He strode over, his concern palpable.
"Yes, Gethii, I'm fine," Chinakah replied, a hint of exasperation in her tone. "I told you that in my message."
"This is the last time I leave you alone," Gethii declared, rounding the desk. With one arm, he pulled Chinakah close by her waist, a sudden intimacy that made her blush. Then, she noticed Leonotis, eyes wide, staring from across the room. Quickly, she placed her notepad in front of Gethii's face, gently pushing him away. "Slow down, lover boy. We have a child present."
Gethii looked at Leonotis, startled, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for other hidden people. "When did he get here?"
"I've been here the whole time!" Leonotis exclaimed, leaping to his feet, the book forgotten. "Is that a real sword? Are you a swordsman? Have you ever killed anyone? Can I try it, please?" A relentless barrage of questions poured from him, his voice filled with an almost frantic enthusiasm.
Gethii blinked, recovering his composure with a chuckle. "Yes, yes, yes, and no," he answered, then his brow furrowed. "...Leonotis? Is that really you?"
"Oh, you know me?" Leonotis asked, a flicker of hope in his eyes. Someone else who knew him.
"Gethii, let me explain," Chinakah interjected, gently pulling Gethii into the next room. She quickly recounted the events of the night before. "Gethii, I need your motorcycle to get to Negah," she said, reaching into the folds of his robe and deftly extracting a set of keys.
"The roads have been getting more dangerous lately, so maybe I should go with—" Gethii began, a worried frown on his face.
Chinakah cut him off, already gathering her things. "Someone needs to watch Leonotis. I can take care of a few monsters on the road." She gave him a reassuring look. "I just need to do a little shopping, Leonotis. I'll be back in a few hours." With a wave, Chinakah got on Gethii's motorcycle and sped off down the dirt road, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.
Gethii watched her go, then looked down at Leonotis, who was still gazing up at him with open admiration.
"Can you teach me how to be a swordsman?" Leonotis asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"What?" Gethii asked, taken aback. "You want me to show you?" He pointed at himself, then at Leonotis, a look of incredulity on his face. "Yeah, hard pass on that," Gethii said, shaking his head.
"Please—" Leonotis began, his voice laced with desperate hope.
"Nope. Now go read one of your books on death or something," Gethii said, waving him away dismissively.
"Why not—"
"You're a creepy pain in the ass."
"I don't remember—"
"Listen, I get you've got amnesia, kid," Gethii interrupted, cutting him off with a weary sigh. "But just because you don't remember being a pain in my ass doesn't mean I don't." He turned and walked back into the clinic, flopping down onto the couch with an audible groan.
Leonotis watched as the man, seemingly unfazed by the boy's presence, promptly fell asleep. He wondered, a hollow ache beginning in his chest, what he had done to make Gethii dislike him so much. He walked out of the clinic, his gaze drawn to his unfamiliar house across the street. Then, he turned and walked down the road. The village was small, a handful of homes, most of them empty or abandoned. He saw a man walking on the side of the road. The man saw Leonotis, turned sharply, and quickly walked away, as if fleeing a plague. This wasn't the only time it happened. Anyone Leonotis saw either ignored his greetings or shouted at him to leave them alone.
Leonotis ended up back in the field next to his hut, a deep ache settling in his heart. Everyone in the village seemed to hate him for something he couldn't even remember doing. He wasn't even sure if he deserved their hatred. The only people who seemed willing to talk to him were Chinakah and Gethii, and even Gethii seemed to despise him. "Just who exactly am I?" Leonotis whispered to himself, a tear tracing a path down his cheek. "Everyone in this place hates me."
"They don't hate you. You've just always been a pain in the ass. Though their tune might change once they hear about what happened to you last night," Gethii's voice rumbled, startling Leonotis. He hadn't noticed the man approach, his presence as silent as a shadow.
Leonotis wiped his eyes, turning to face him. "How come Miss Chinakah and you are willing to talk to me?"
Gethii leaned against a nearby tree, shrugging. "Chinakah is basically a saint who loves every living thing. And your little tricks never worked on me, kid," he said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He sighed, rubbing his head. "Alright, look. You have amnesia, right? So until you get your memory back, I'll be your friend."
Leonotis's face lit up, a sudden surge of warmth displacing the cold ache in his chest. "Really? Thanks!" He quickly wiped away the remaining tears. "Are you going to show me how to use a sword now?"
"What? Are you still on about that?" Gethii groaned, looking utterly exasperated. Then, a flicker of something, perhaps resignation, perhaps amusement, crossed his face. "Fine, but only for today... And you gotta call me Master Gethii from now on," he declared, a challenging glint in his eye.
"Master Gethii!" Leonotis said immediately, his voice filled with unwavering conviction.
"Okay..." Gethii trailed off, surprised at how readily Leonotis accepted his demand. "I don't have any practice swords, so we're going to have to go to a tree and get a branch. Something we can use as a wooden sword."
Gethii walked to a nearby tree and, with a practiced snap, broke off a sturdy branch. Leonotis, inspired, began searching for his own. While walking to a tree, his foot hit a branch on the ground. He bent down, picked it up, and his eyes widened.
"I found one!" he shouted, running to Gethii, holding out his discovery.
"Whoa, that almost looks like a real sword," Gethii said, impressed despite himself. The branch was surprisingly straight, with a natural curve that resembled a hilt. "Where did you find it?"
"On the ground by the trees!" Leonotis said, grinning from ear to ear. "It's a great stick, huh? I'm going to call it my tree-branch sword."
"Calm down, kid. It's just a stick," Gethii said, though his gaze lingered on Leonotis's "sword," looking dissatisfied with his own, much less impressive branch. "Alright, let's get started. Now, try to hit me."
Leonotis gripped his "sword" with both hands, his new master's words a challenge. With a fierce, determined look, he lunged, a clumsy, uncoordinated attack. Gethii, with an easy, almost lazy sidestep, avoided the strike, looking unimpressed but ready to instruct. The first lesson had begun.