CHAPTER 827: JOURNAL

Several hours passed since I awoke. My body was fine, but trying to do more than lie on my side, stiff as a board, caused either my side to burn or my tail to ache, often both. Evla kept me company for a few hours before claiming responsibilities and slipping away. I sighed as the tent flap dropped behind her, staring at the ground. The brown, dusty substance stared back at me, mocking. Its name sat on the tip of my tongue, refusing to budge.

"I wish I had something to read," I muttered, running a hand over my horn.

It was the first time I’d tried that, but the gentle tingle felt right. I did it again and again, gently caressing the ridges, exploring every curve and texture with my fingers. I vaguely remembered a time when I didn’t have horns, but the memory felt even foggier than the rest.

Suddenly, my hand froze, and I blinked, lowering and staring at it. "Read? What is that...? You read....um...books!"

The word sent a lightning bolt through me, unlocking a tide of memories. My lips twitched, curving in a pleased smile. Books. Books were great. Especially the ones about...about..."

My smile faded as my memories faltered just shy of what felt like a breakthrough. Looking around, I spied a book about the width of my finger resting on a desk. I cocked my head, straining my ears, but only heard faint growls, screeches, and scrapes. They were unsettling, but I’d gotten used to them by now. Evla had said they were demons.

With no sign of anyone approaching, I swivelled my legs off the side of the bed, holding my side as I carefully sat up. The arrow itself had barely clipped me, but the sheer force had ripped my side apart, exposing the bottom of my ribs and damaging my hip. The bandages were crusty with dark, dried blood, with a few crimson trickles oozing through where the scabs had cracked.

A wave of nausea washed over me as I attempted to rise, my vision blurring at the edges. My knees buckled beneath me, sending a jolt of pain through my body as I collapsed back onto the mattress. The impact was jarring, and a sharp, excruciating ache radiated from my lower back as my tail became painfully wedged beneath my weight and the mattress. A whimper escaped my lips as my consciousness wavered, threatening to disappear.

I lay there for a moment, breathless, waiting for the room to stop spinning and the throbbing discomfort to subside. I should have just taken the hit and tried to rest like Evla said, but I couldn’t get the book out of my mind. So, gritting my teeth, I sat up again. I clawed my way over the bedpost and used it as a prop, gradually easing my full weight onto my legs. They shook, but after a few seconds, adjusted to the strain. I took a steady step, carefully walking around the post while using it for balance.

Every step found me a little stronger, and after a few more steps, I struck off across the tent. The firm, gritty earth coated the bottom of my bare feet, rising in small clouds around every step. Dust. That’s what the clouds were called. Then that meant the ground was...

I shook my head, whining faintly. It still wouldn’t come. It was even closer than whatever I’d been about to remember about books, and even more frustrating.

Even though it was only a few feet, fatigue had begun to set in by the time I reached the desk. I collapsed against the chair, panting lightly as I caught my breath. The chair seemed designed for a demonkin, with a large gap between the seat and backrest, but it would have been impossible for me to maneuver my tail into the hole, broken as it was. It slowly scraped across the ground as I tugged on it, requiring almost all my strength to pull out far enough to sit sideways on the seat.

The book was a lot lighter than I expected, with crinkly, uneven pages. It cracked as I opened it, flecks of dried ink falling out like dust. The words were thick and blotted, written with a shaky hand in unfamiliar runes, but for some reason, I had no trouble reading them. The very action of reading was soothing, and soon, I lost myself in its pages, head tilted on my hand.

It seemed to be a journal of sorts, with dates written sporadically from the last four years. Sometimes, the author would write for a week straight, then skip months. They told of growing up as a slave under a cruel master, and having a younger sister they loved more than anything. But she was taken from him in a manner the author left unsaid. It resonated with me most strangely, my imagination picturing the scenes and events as they were described. For instance, the book didn’t describe the sister, but I knew she had black hair, blue eyes, and that she was a demonkin.

"Alara," I whispered, tracing the name. It sent shivers down my spine and tail, bearing a weight I didn’t understand. But...I knew what it meant, although I wasn’t sure which language I translated it from. "Little star."

A hand landed on my shoulder. I jumped, squeaking, slamming the book shut.

"What are you doing, snooping like that. Even I couldn’t read that language," I feminine voice teased.

I whirled, gasping as I recognized the brunette girl standing behind me. "J-Jessia? I didn’t mean to...I didn’t know...I’m sorry."

My face fell, and I clutched my skirt, shame-faced. Jessia giggled, letting go of me.

"I’m not the one you need to apologize to. He’d be pretty upset if he knew you were reading it. That you could read it."

"Who?" I tilted my head, staring up at her. "Who would be?"

She studied my face, rubbing her chin. "I heard you forgot, but this...you really don’t know the author of that book? Maybe, uh, some context clueless? Like whose tent this is?"

"I don’t know. I teleported here, and then...well, that was it. Evla left, and I was feeling lonely, and I saw this book, so I wanted to–"

"Hey now, don’t go expositioning all over me. I don’t care that much," Jessia said with a grin. "Rather, did you learn anything cool in there? Any secrets?"

I gave her an odd look. What was her deal with secrets? Normal people didn’t mention them that much, right?"

"Just asking," she said, "No harm in trying, right?"

"It was a journal. They talked a lot about their sister and life as a slave. They seemed like a really hurt, lonely person. I hope nothing terrible happened to their sister."

Jessia sucked a breath through her teeth, rubbing the back of her head. "Yeah, about that...you know what, never mind. How much do you remember about me?"

"Not too much, just...you were at the bonfire, too. With Evla. I remember there was another man, too, and..." I scrunched my face, thinking hard. "Luke was there, too."

"So you do know his name. He seemed particularly distressed you forgot him," she said.

"I barely remember him, but the memories are...scary. I don’t feel like they’re actually my memories, either, but like I’m remembering something for him. Like a dream, but...dream?"

"Just remembered that word, too?" she asked.

I nodded. "A dream. I feel like there’s something more to those."

"A vision?"

My eyes snapped open. "Yeah! Like a dream that’s telling the truth."

"I think the old you would have argued that definition, but it’s a start," Jessia said. "Now, anything else you remember?"

Her eagerness was a little intense, and I looked around, searching for something to jog a memory to satisfy her. My gaze fell on the ground and the brown, dusty substance.

"What’s this called?" I asked, pointing.

"Ground? Earth? Floor?"

"No, this." I reached down, pinching it. It came between my fingers like powder, puffing in a small dust cloud.

"Dirt?"

"Dirt!" I beamed. "Thanks. I’ve been trying to remember that one since I woke up."

She stared at me. "You really knocked your head, didn’t you?"

As I blushed, she stiffened, turning to stare through the wall. "Uh-oh, seems like things are about to get interesting. Want to get some fresh air?"

"You mean out of the tent? Evla said it wasn’t safe. Something about...demons?"

"Oh, yeah. Those. I don’t suppose you miss that memory much. But don’t worry, I’m a lot stronger than I look. I’ll take care of you."

"Really? Can I see the stars? I don’t really remember them, but I want to. They feel important."

"Maybe in a bit. They only come out at night, remember?"

"No, I don’t. Night...that’s the opposite of day. I remembered day, but not night. How odd."

"It sure is. Now come on." She held out her hand, smiling encouragingly. There was a mischievous light in her eye that made me hesitate, but her hand darted forward, snatching mine.

The moment her fingers closed around me, the world turned dark. I had just enough time to snatch the book, holding it to my chest, before a familiar feeling took over me, the same as I remembered when I teleported to this place. My stomach did a flip, nausea rising in my throat, and then the darkness gave way to light again. My feet touched the ground, and I staggered, whimpering as the motion upset my side. Jessia grabbed me, holding me up as I cautiously looked around.

We stood in a camp, surrounded by rows of tents. They were dirty and haphazard, with more patches than canvas. Demonkin and beastkin wandered throughout, gathering in a loose circle around a clearing in the tents. In the middle of the clearing were two familiar demonkin, Luke and Gayron.

They stood face to face, glaring at each other. The tension was palpable, raising goosebumps around my arms. Waves of power rippled across the camp like wind, but parted around Jessia and me for some reason. Looking down, I found we were wreathed in shadows, invisible to those around us.

I opened my mouth to ask what was happening, but Jessia put a finger ot her lips, giving me a knowing wink.

"I forget my place?" Gayron asked, voice crackling like coals. "What about you? What do you know of your place?"