Memories

For Rix_scaedu‘s prompt.

Faerie Apoc, Addergoole – landing page here (or on LJ)

This happens after the storyline of Addergoole; for reference, see this guest story

Commenters: 2

It had never ceased to plague him. His memories of death and dying were picture-perfect, dozens of deaths, at least, some of them in worlds that had made Professor Valerian frown and Professor Pelletier twitch when he described them (which was, of course, half of why he described them). But his memories of what was, in theory, his current life, were either non-existant or fuzzy. Even large parts of his time at Addergoole were a blur.

He worked as a mechanic, because he was good at it, because he didn’t have to remember much from day to day (the skills didn’t go, just the people, and the events), and because it paid well. He paid a couple former Students of his Former Mentor, and one from Valerian, to keep his cave – a house when he’d started and, from the outside, still mostly a house – and his bed warm and comfortable, more than willing to share the money. You helped your cy’ree. He didn’t forget that. You helped your crew, your cy’ree, and your brothers. If he had any of those.

But now the stupid departed gods were coming back, and they were ruining all of that. The world kept moving, changing, and his uncertain memory couldn’t keep up with the changes the interlopers were imposing on the city around him. The clients who kept money in his pocket were fleeing the city, and encouraging him to do the same. Run and hide. Prey ran and hid, and girls. He might hate his memories of death, but Baram did not fear it.

He thumped down the street from the shop – no work today, go home, the boss had said, get your girl and get out of here – to his home, pushing aside overturned cars and, once, because it was in his way, moving a broken bus off a wounded human. He muttered the healing Words at the human so she’d stop screaming; something was wrong. The place where his cave was looked wrong.

A growl started deep in Baram’s throat. The fucking returned gods had gone too far.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/147351.html. You can comment here or there.

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17 thoughts on “Memories

  1. Also in the last line where did the growl start? My mind filled in ‘throat’ but that isn’t what you’ve written. ‘house’ has very different implications.

      • So who or what did for his house isn’t definitely still in there waiting for him? Note I said ‘definitely’. To me that’s what the growl coming from the house would have meant.

          • I like to think he does some good, either way, before he dies. I also don’t want his three house-elves to be dead.

          • No, that would be…unfair. Mind you, house elves trained by Fridmar? Perhaps when he gets into the ruins the question will be “Uh, Boss, where do you want us to get rid on the body?”

          • You do have a point!! I see him taking Penny’s advice to heart, you see, and finding a couple cy’Frid’s having trouble adjusting to the world. Preferably one with tlacatl.

  2. Oh ouch. That’s a personal horror for me, loosing memories. I know next to nothing about Baram. He’s just this mental note in my mind of “not very nice guy, doesn’t show up much though.”

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