Recovery

James Grant was awake.  This was not the sudden realization of a man rising after a full nights sleep.  Consciousness began to slowly filter into his aching mind gently illuminating reality.  "Heavy" he thought.  He realized this weight was his body.  A sluggish mental inventory told him that he had two arms.  Each arm had a hand with five fingers attached.  Next, legs.  He seemed to have two feet, 5 toes each.  Something was missing.  "Pain" He thought.  Pain, yes, the pain was in his head. "Ah, yes, head".  All of this mental exertion was deepening the pain in his skull, so he rolled over and vomited.  The stench of stale stomach acid mixed with the sticky dampness he felt might have told him that he had gone through this before, with similar results, but such high level thinking was beyond James' capabilities just now, so he rolled back over and drifted off into unconsciousness.

Minutes, or perhaps days passed.  Again foggy consciousness forced it's way into into his mind.  The pain still shot through James' head, but his mental inventory seemed to go a bit more quickly this time, and although he still felt nauseous his stomach obeyed his commands to heed long enough for him to continue to survey his circumstances.

He was laying on a bed, it was soft but felt oddly uneven and lacked support.  The weight of his body, he discovered, was due to the fact that he was tucked tightly into a heavy comforter.  The blanket was warm but rough and itchy.  His pillows, too, were covered in a rough material that didn't quite stop him from being poked by what he guessed where the quills of the feathers stuffing it.  James realized his eyes were still closed.  Experimentally he opened one, and then the other.

The room he was in was dark, illuminated by the flickering orange glow of a candle that stood next to a porcelain basin atop a rough but sturdy looking wood nightstand.  Judging by the tallow that had melted over onto the stand, someone had been replacing the candles.  From his bed he could also make out the shape of a wardrobe standing on what looked like a dusty stone floor on the other side of the room, and next to it was a windowless wooden door that looked like it had been nailed together from several planks of wood.

The pain throbbing in his head, mixed with the hot stale air of the room tainted with the smell of vomit was making him feel sick again.  "Air" he thought.  His brain still wasn't up to making complete sentences.  As he began to extricate himself from the blankets and sheets covering him, he felt a burning sensation over his entire body powerful enough to temporarily block out the pain in his head.  Once he had managed to throw the blankets aside, he saw that he was naked, and his body covered in raw burns and barely healed sores.

He slung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand.  Instead he collapsed onto the floor in a heap.  Laying on the grimy stone floor unable to gather the strength to stand, James realized that he felt worse than he had ever felt in his entire life.  In fact, had his brain been able to cope with such complex concepts, he would have thought he was dying.

Although the dim windowless room made judging time difficult, over the course over what James estimated to be several hours, the fog began to clear from James' mind.  Without the thick haze covering his thoughts, he began to piece things together.  He was definitely ill.  Judging by his injuries he had been in some sort of accident.  "But what was it!?".  He didn't remember being in any accidents.  He also didn't know where he was.  The dusty floor and rough wood furniture looked more the inside of an antique store than a hospital he thought.

Between his thoughts on where he was and what had happened, pain was nudging it's way back into James' mind.  The sores covering his body and the headache had been joined by a soreness in his joints from laying on the hard floor.  Taking a moment to steel himself for the effort, he rolled over and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees.  Struggling, he slowly pulled himself back up onto the bed.  With his mind now in a better position to interpret his surroundings, James took another moment to look around the room.

The walls, like the furniture, were unfinished wood.  The room was quite small, just large enough for the bed, night stand, and wardrobe.  There were no lamps or light fixtures, leaving only the light from the candle, which had nearly burnt out.  He noticed that the basin on the night stand was filled not with water, but with some thick yellow liquid, like green tea left to steep too long.  Various leaves, stems, and petals were floating in the liquid, adding to it's resemblance to a great vat of tea.

Judging from the light creeping in through the cracks and beneath the door, it was daylight outside.  As he sat on the bed, staring absently at the gap between the door and the dusty stones, thinking again about his situation, he noticed a pair of dark shadows, like feet blocking the light.  Muffled voices were drifting through the wooden door, though he couldn't make out what was being said.  After a minute the door opened into the room, filling it with bright sunlight.  Behind his shielded eyes, James was able to make out two distinct shadows.

"It appears that our friend has awakened."  The voice that spoke was soothing, seemingly projecting the calmness reflected in the middle-aged face of the man before him.  The speaker sat something James couldn't see on top of the wardrobe, than began to approach the bed.  James, thinking the man was coming to greet him, began to stretch out his hand to shake, but the speaker instead proceeded to take the still burning candle stub from the night stand and return to the wardrobe.  A second later the room was illuminated with a rich yellow light.  As the speaker returned the candle to the nightstand, James saw a brass lantern burning brightly atop the wardrobe.

The better light also gave James a chance to get a good look at his two visitors.  The speaker was a middle aged man with dark, slightly thinning hair.  He was slight of build and wore a loosely fitting gauzy shirt, and brown leather trousers.  With him was a woman, slightly taller than the man.  She too wore leather trousers, but her blouse was heavier and lay more tightly over her form.  The woman had brilliantly red hair that just framed her smooth pale face.

The speaker had made his way back to the side of James' bed.  This time, he turned to face James.  "Greetings" he said, "I am Jovan, and this" he gestured to the woman, "is Haena."  Haena slowly nodded her head in greeting, but remained otherwise silent.  "Where is this?  How did I get here? When did I get here?  What happened to me?"  The questions tumbled out from James' mouth in quick succession.  Jovan glanced at Haena for a moment, and then lowered his eyes for a long minute.  Taking a moment to inhale and exhale slowly, he said "This is the township of Helston, you were found, injured, in the groves to the north.  Haena and I brought you here and have been caring for you for the last fortnight.  As to who you are, how you got here, or what caused your injuries I cannot say.  For the moment let us not speak of it, you are still ill and it would not do to waste your energy.  Please, lie down and rest."

James found these answers inadequate on the whole, but Jovan's voice had a reassuring quality to it, and James didn't feel up to arguing.  Letting himself fall back into the bed, James started to think that he might have overexerted himself.  He started to try to thank Jovan and Haena for their care, but his eyelids were growing heavy and speech was hard to muster.  The last thing he was dimly aware of before drifting off to sleep was Jovan dabbing liquid from the basin onto his wounds.

Hours later, James was awake.  The bright yellow light of the lantern had once again given way to the dim orange glow of the candle on the nightstand next to his bed, and the bright blue daylight that had shone through the cracks in the door had turned to the red of dusk.  Although still weak and sore, James felt marginally better than he had hours ago.  He also felt ravenous.  Looking around he spotted a tray on the night stand containing a bowl of some dark broth and several thick slices of bread.  Afraid to drop the tray in his weakened state, James took the tray with a painful meticulousness until he had it resting stably on his lap.  He tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into the broth.

The broth was dark and thick.  It tasted almost like beef broth.  James suspected that it was mutton or goat, although he had never had either.  The bread had a yellow tint to it, giving it the color of yellow cake.  It was soft and extremely dense with a much richer flavor than most bread that he had ever eaten.  Although simple, James thought, as he used the last bit of bread to scrape the final remnants of soup from the wooden bowl, that it was one of the finest meals he had ever eaten.  Satisfied, James put the tray back onto the nightstand and fell back into sleep.

The next morning James woke to the sound of Jovan entering the room.  "Morning" James said to Jovan as he walked into the room.  "Indeed it is, and a fine one, how do you feel?"  he asked while lighting the brass lantern and placing it on top of the wardrobe.  "Pretty well, on the whole, I think.  Good enough that I'm ready to get up out of bed anyway."  Jovan moved a chair from beside the night stand and sat down next to James' bed.  "Hmm," he said, as he pulled the covers back and examined James' wounds.  "Well, you do look as though you are recovering well enough.  If you feel up to walking I can take you into town proper and we can break fast at Haena's Inn."  James' joints had started to stiffen from so long in bed, and he was once again ravenous, so he was already in the middle of getting out of bed and saying "that sounds great" when he realized that he was still quite naked.  In fact, James felt flush as he realized it, he had been naked since he had woken up, and revealed quite a lot of himself to both Jovan and Haena the last time he had seen them.  "List, Jovan, " he said, trying to cover himself and retain some modesty "what happened to my cloths?".  Jovan, who didn't seem to mind that James was naked nearly as much as James himself did, replied "When we found you, your cloths were only a few sparse scraps.  Since we needed to tend to your wounds we did not dress you.  Let me go fetch you something, ah but first, one moment."  and he walked out of the room.

Jovan returned a minute later carrying another basin, larger than the one sitting on the nightstand, and containing clear water.  He sat it down on the chair, and handed James a soft terrycloth-like rag "I'm sure you will want to wash, soap I'm afraid would irritate your wounds but this should be better than nothing."  With that he turned and left the room.

Washing away the sweat and grime that had accumulated on his body while he had been ill left James feeling almost vigorous.  His muscles were still sore, and he had not yet recovered all of his strength, but the general feeling of ill sluggishness and lethargy seemed to be washed away.  It was about 20 minutes before Jovan returned, carrying a cotton shirt and a pair of woolen trousers.  Sitting on top of the cloths were a pair of wooden sandals and a leather cord that James assumed as intended to be used as a belt.  The cloths were loose, but after tucking in the shirt and tying the belt tightly around his waist he was ready to leave.

Following Jovan out of the room that he had occupied for the last couple of weeks, and had been thus far his only glimps of...wherever he was, James standing outside of a small wooden shack sitting in the shadow of a large stone manor.  There were a few other wooden buildings here and there forming a sort of court yard between the manor and the row of trees that seemed to bound the property.

"This is your house?"  James asked, gesturing at the manor.  "No,"  Jovan replied as he lead them along a path around to the opposite side of the house.  "This was once the home of the Duke, Leonard, it's now used as a meeting place for the Western Ring Council" Jovan continued.  None of this made any sense to James at all.  His memory was still largely dim, but there was a distinct lack of familiarity with all of the places and names that Jovan had mentioned.  Something was off.  "If this is a meeting place for a council, shouldn't there be people here?"  James asked.  "The council meets only in the fall.  That is why you were brought here."  James thought for a minute "What do you mean?"  Jovan stopped and turned to face James as he answered; "When we found your injuries and illness were something we had not seen before.  You were nearly dead.  We dared not bring you into town, lest your illness attach itself to others in the Helson."  "Weren't you worried about getting sick?"  James asked.  "I have been gifted with pure breath, I was not worried for myself.  I was of course concerned for Haena, and limited her exposure to you, but she insisted on visiting you on occasion, and agreed to be sequestered herself should she begin to show signs of the illness."  "Pure breath?" James asked.  "It means that I do not succumb to illness as others do" was Jovans answer.  "But how does that work, I mean, surely you've been sick, a cold, or something" James said.  "I have not, but come, we still have far to go, and I think your energy will wear thin before too long."

The pair walked along the dirt path through the forest for a half-hour when the trees started to thin, and over the top of a hill James could see the village.  Perhaps twenty wood and stone houses stood around the outside of the village, with a handful of stores and a small open air market in the middle congregated around a square.  In the distance solitary buildings dotted the landscape here and there, and James could see the edge of a corn field off in the distance.

As they followed the path into the village, James was once again bothered by how alien everything seemed.  It was true that he couldn't remember anything about where he had come from or his life before he had woken up in the bed, but nothing he had seen since he regained consciousness had triggered the faintest recognition.  He knew, or at least he thought that he remembered, that when people lost their memory they were still able to function, just without remembering their past.  How could he have forgotten everything?  He began to think:

Ok, I can work this out.  I woke up.  Things seemed really weird, that must mean that I have some point of comparison, but what?  The furniture, and the lights, that was weird, it was dark.  The cloths, these cloths are weird.  WHY though?  What's missing?  Everything is different, but how should it be?

Lost in thought, James almost walked into Jovan as he stopped.  They were standing at a sturdy wooden door beneath an overhang.  To his right he saw a shingle hanging off chains.  A bed and a mug were carved into the shingle.  Jovan pushed open the door and walked in, James followed.  The Tavern was large, easily able to accommodate more people than James would have thought lived in the small town.  A large, L-shaped bar sat in the back corner of the bar.  Several glass bottles full of various colored liquids sat on a shelf, and next to it a number of large wooden kegs.  The few yellowish windows and lit lanterns mixed with the dark wood of the tables and chairs made the room dark, and the air was musty with the smell of drink and old smoke.  After a minute of standing, Haena walked in through a door behind the bar.  "Jovan, and James!" she said, "it's good to see you're up and about.  Why don't you head down stairs into the parlor and I'll fetch something from the kitchen" and she left back through the door behind the bar. 

Recollection

James followed Jovan across the bar and down a set of stairs leading into a dark parlor.  There were no lanterns or windows, leaving the room nearly pitch dark.  James was just able to make out the outline of an overstuffed chair, and he sat down in it.  They sat in the dark for nearly fifteen minutes until James hear the sounds of footsteps coming slowly down the stairs, and saw light being cast into the room.  Haena came into view.  She was carrying a tray on one hand loaded with some sort of meat, a loaf of bread, some cheese, three metal tankards, and a bottle.  In her other hand she was carrying a lamp.

Although the walk into the village had made James even hungrier than he had been when they set out, he barely looked at the food that Haena carried.  All of his focus was instead on the lamp that she carried in her right hand.  James was so focused on it because, for the first time since he had woken up, he had finally seen something that struck a note of familiarity in his mind.  The lamp itself was a simple brass lamp, about 2 feet tall, and skinny.  It cast a brilliant bright blue light into the room, the color of daylight.

As thought it was illuminating not only the room, but some darkened part of James' memory, recollections starting finding their way into James' consciousness.  He started to realize what had seemed so odd before.  At first, the memories were in feelings and pictures, then words started to form in James' mind "Power", "Medieval", "Electricity".  It felt like minutes in his mind, although it must have only been a few seconds, because Haena was just sitting the tray of food down on a table in the center of the room, when James spoke out loud without meaning to.  "That's what's different here!" he said to the room at large.

Jovan and Haena both looked over at him.  He hadn't intended to say anything at all, the words escaped him without a moments thought, but now that Jovan and Haena were looking at him, he wasn't sure that he would be able to adequately verbalize this new realization.  "I'm sorry?"  Haena said to him.  Jovan merely looked as though he was waiting for James to finish his thought.  "I've been trying to figure out" James started, "why everything has seemed so off.  I couldn't put my finger on it.  I can't really remember much, I mean, things seemed wrong, but I don't know how they should be, so I haven't been able to put my finger on it.  But then I saw that lamp, and I sort of remembered, it seems weird, like there should be more lamps, or something."  James sighed, he felt frustrated, "Sorry, I don't really know how to explain it, I need to think for a minute."

"What you need" said Jovan, "is to eat and relax for a minute, I think.  You've barely eaten, and you surely were worn out from that walk, you've hardly moved for a fortnight.  Come here, and have some food, I need to speak to Haena for a moment upstairs."  Jovan cut off a small slice of the meat for himself, and then looked at Haena and made a motion toward the stairs.