Remembered (7 page)

The town had a pretty fairytale look. Every stall that made
up the market had a different colored canopy on top: bright oranges, yellows,
greens, reds, and blues, giving West Vistira a festive look all year long.

The shops of West Vistira, that framed the market square,
sold everything from personal necessities, books, gifts, and materials. There
was very little that Vistirans could not find in town.

When she finally located Mr. Wellum, she made her way over
to his stall, keeping her head down, but imagining she could feel eyes on her.
She waited until he was finished setting up before approaching him. “Excuse me,
Sir,” she whispered, closing the gap between their faces.

He stared back at her questioningly at first, and then
realization dawned on his face, which quickly turned to shock. “Annella
Derlyn!” he gasped.

“Please, Mr. Wellum,” she said in a hushed voice, pushing
her hand down to signal that she wanted him to be quiet, “I don’t want to be
noticed.”

He looked around in every direction, and then beckoned her
to join him on the other side of his stall, his face the same shade of pale
that his wife’s had turned upon seeing her. The smell of salty fish made her
nauseous and weak, so she nodded to the wooden boxes and asked if she could
sit.

Mr. Wellum joined her on the crate and turned to look at her
in awe. “This is a miracle. It is unbelievable,” he marveled. “Where have you
been? The town assumed you were dead months ago.”

“I know that,” she replied. “I went to your home. I spoke
with Mrs. Wellum. I can’t really tell you where I’ve been, only that I didn’t
leave of my own will.”

“Is that so?” he said, eyes wide. “You must tell me
everything.”

“I can’t just yet,” she replied. “I have yet to piece it
together. I can’t remember exactly what happened.”

“But why have you come seeking me out?” he asked, slightly
disappointed.

“Your wife thinks that you may have some information
regarding my brother and sister. She said someone took them away. Do you know
who?” She crossed her fingers; this was her only hope.

“Ah, of course,” Mr. Wellum said, the cheerful look on his
face filling her with relief. He looked around again, and then lowered his head
to hers. “When you went missing, the town formed a search party. Ten days the
search lasted, our numbers in the hundreds. Day and night the search went on. It
stretched to every corner of Vistira. When not so much as a trace of you was
uncovered, the search was finally called off. Everyone assumed you were dead,
carried off by the sea perhaps…but you were kidnapped?” he added with a
sorrowful look.

“My brother and sister thought I was dead,” she said regretfully,
ignoring his last inquiry.

“Yes, we all did,” he added.

“What happened to them?” she asked, her voice sounding dead.

“At that time, young Markum Kir went to your home. He went
to fetch your brother and sister,” Mr. Wellum explained. “He brought them to
his family’s homestead. I believe they have been living there ever since.”

‘Markum Kir? Why does that name sound so familiar?’
She thought. “Who is this Markum Kir?” she asked firmly. “And why would they go
to live with a stranger? Where is his homestead?”

“You do not know?” Mr. Wellum asked, giving her a look like
she had gone mad. “You don’t remember?”

“The name seems familiar to me, but I can’t place it just
now,” she answered, feeling agitated.

“What happened to you?” he asked again, almost seeming
disgusted.

“Please, just tell me who this Markum Kir is,” She begged.

“Annella…Markum Kir is the brother of your young lover,” Mr.
Wellum answered matter-of-factly.

“My what?” she bellowed.

“Yes, your lover…Kellus Kir,” he replied.

“Kellus…Kellus,” she repeated, shock rippling through her.
He
was
real. She
did
know him after all.

“Yes,” Mr. Well said. “It has become common knowledge that
you and young Kellus Kir were romantically involved. There are rumors that you
may have married in secret mere weeks before you went missing.”

“Yes,” she screeched aloud, putting her hand over her mouth.
“Yes, I remember Kellus now.” She felt a ripping at her heart, a loss so severe
that she thought she would stop breathing. She wasn’t sure how many more shocks
she could endure this day. “Where is his house?” she asked in a hurried voice.

“You don’t know?” Mr. Wellum questioned.

“Kellus and I kept our affair a secret. It was important
that no one knew, but I cannot remember why. The only member of his family I’ve
ever met is his father…I think.”

“You don’t remember the reason for the secrecy?” he asked,
his eyes flickering towards the Citadom.

“I can’t recall now. Everything is still unclear,” she
answered.

Mr. Wellum told her to walk down past the bank building,
turning left onto the Ocean Road. After an hour, maybe less, she would see a
large brown house easily from the street. “Annella, if you want to remain
unnoticed, I suggest you discard the strange clothing,” he added when she stood
to leave.

“Yes, of course,” she replied. “I’ll go home first and
change. Thank you again.”

“The Kir’s house is the fifth left along the Ocean Road,” he
called after her.

She headed back in the direction she had come from, hoping
that there would still be something more appropriate to wear back in her little
house.

As she passed the big gray building, she looked up from
under her hood, and the sight that she saw caused her to halt abruptly. Three
young men were descending the steps of the Citadom, dressed in the same blue
uniform: a high neck shirt with buttons down the front, and loose trousers of
the same color. The uniform had an Asian look to it, almost like the pajamas
one could buy in Chinatown, but made of thicker material. They wore a tan sash
around the waist, tied in a knot on the left hand side, leaving the remainder
of the material to run down past their hips. She knew that concealed under the
sash was a dagger. Each apprentice carried one.

She froze in place because the sight of these men unleashed
a flood of memories. She had seen Kellus in that uniform many times.

Kellus was an apprentice peaceman.

The apprentices took a vow of celibacy for the five years of
training, prohibited from becoming romantically involved.

Their relationship had been forbidden.

She scanned her memory for more information, things that
were common knowledge to the people of Vistira. The memories flowed
easily—memories that had been buried until that morning. She remembered that
once an apprentice graduated to peaceman, he was still not at liberty to marry,
but he could take a lover if he wished, but to father a child was strictly
forbidden. Their lives were to be dedicated to their vocation alone. 

The peaceman wore a darker blue uniform than the
apprentices. The Master—the title given to the man in the highest position—wore
black, and the Under Master—who was second in command—wore charcoal gray. It
came back to her in spades.

She walked back up the hill, her mind teeming with memories
as if someone had opened a floodgate, and she remembered every moment with
Kellus.

She entered her little house once more, sat down on the
floor in front of the stove, and let her mind drift back to the beginning.

Annella Derlyn

“Cora. Cora, can you come here please?” Annella yelled out
the kitchen window.

“What is it, Annie?” Cora called back.

“Can you watch the stove? I want to run down to Mrs.
Wellum’s house to return a book I borrowed from her.”

Cora walked casually through the back door.

“Where’s Max?” Annella asked.

“He’s gone fishing with a few boys from school,” Cora
answered, flopping into one of the armchairs.

“He did? Good,” Annie answered, pleasantly surprised. Cora
and Max were not as sociable as she would have liked them to be. Like her, they
were home birds, although it was not really a choice that Annie had made. She
had a house to run, and two teenagers to care for alone, leaving her precious
little time for a social life.

She walked out the front door, sliding into a light
cardigan, and breathed in the crisp ocean air.

She looked to the left and stopped in her tracks, her face
turning warm. Ten young men were marching up the hill, coming from the
direction that she was heading in, all wearing the uniform of the apprentice
peacemen.

Suddenly overcome with shyness, she was reluctant to walk past
so many young men at once. She tried her hardest not to make eye contact, very
aware that she stood there like a fool as they paraded past her.

The last man, who trailed behind the others, looked up at
her just as she looked in his direction.

Their eyes connected.

He had the most beautiful face she’d ever seen. His eyes
were lovely, the color of the sky on a cloudless summer morning. They stayed
locked in each other’s gaze, completely lost in the moment.

Quickly, she looked away, ran down the stone steps, and
gently pushed aside the little iron gate that was hanging on by one hinge only.
She propped the gate into place and made her way down the hill once they were
safely out of her path, but she decided to chance another look at him. She
turned her head around and instantly regretted it. He was walking backwards,
staring straight at her. She turned away sharply, embarrassed at being caught
ogling. ‘
What a pity he’s
off limits,’
she thought, walking
briskly down the hill.

“You look happy,” Mrs. Wellum said, holding open the front
door.

“I just saw the apprentices walking past my house,” Annie
answered.

“Why would that be reason for such a big smile?” Mrs. Wellum
asked suspiciously. She took the book from Annie’s hand and replaced it with
another.

“One of them was so handsome,” Annie answered, giggling.

“What did he look like?” Mrs. Wellum questioned, smiling
warmly at Annie’s ridiculously girlish behavior.

“Tall, very fit, light-brown hair, beautiful blue eyes, and
a lovely face,” Annie answered in a dreamy voice.

“I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that one,” Mrs. Wellum
said, ushering Annie into her living room. “Actually, they all look alike to
me. Perhaps it’s the uniform.”

“This one stands out above the others,” Annie remarked.
“It’s a shame that they’re not allowed to have relationships.”

“I know,” Mrs. Wellum said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
“There are so few single men in Vistira; you may as well limit your choices
further.” She laughed warmly, sitting on the opposite chair from her guest.
“But seriously, dear, you do not want to waste your time thinking of one of
them, there’s no point. Besides, a beauty like you can have your pick of the
litter.”

They drank tea and picked apart the latest book.

“The one I handed you before is even better. I believe you’ll
enjoy it even more,” Mrs. Wellum said. She proceeded to give Annie a brief
summary of the plot.

When Annie was finished with her tea, she stood to leave,
throwing her cardigan back on.

“Are you all ready for the mid-spring festival next week?”
Mrs. Wellum asked.

“Yes, it should be a great evening,” Annie answered. “I’ve
never gone before. This is the first year that the twins are old enough to
attend.” She walked slowly towards the front door.

“It’s a wonderful opportunity for a beautiful young woman to
mingle with available men,” Mrs. Wellum said with a cunning grin.

“It could be a very interesting event, then,” Annie replied.

“I hope you have something wonderful to wear. I don’t doubt
that you’ll be much admired as it is, but a stunning dress would leave every
other young woman paling in comparison.”

Annie blushed at the compliment.

“It was at such a festival that I met Mr. Wellum,” Mrs.
Wellum added. “Perhaps you’ll be as lucky and meet the man of your dreams.”

Annie felt a little giddy with anticipation as she left Mrs.
Wellum’s house with another book and a package of fresh fish—a gift from Mr.
Wellum—tucked under her arm.

Before she took a step from the front of the house, she
noticed, with uneasiness, that the apprentices were making their way back down
the hill, and Mrs. Wellum had already closed the door, leaving her with no
excuse to go back inside. 

If she hurried, she would be able to make it to her front
door before they reached that far. She walked briskly—almost running—back up
the road.

It was a terrible blunder.

She should have waited in Mrs. Wellum’s front yard until
they passed, pretended that she was looking for some dropped object. Instead,
she huffed up the hill, heading straight for ten glaring faces, out of breath,
blushing bright red, and worse still, she would not make it to her front door
before them.

Approximately ten feet from the approaching front line, she
stopped. She could have crossed the narrow road and waited for them to pass. It
would have seemed courteous, as though she was giving them the right of way,
but that is not what she did. She came to a complete standstill in the center
of the road, unable to think straight, and waited for them to barrel into her.

Mercifully, they made a narrow opening for her to walk
through.

It was beyond any form of humiliation she had ever known.

Almost every one of them smirked at her embarrassment as she
pushed her way through.

She grew so flustered that she lost her footing and stumbled
forward. She felt someone grab her arm, but not before the book and package
fell to the ground.