Trying Out Tolkien Part VII

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This was beyond fun to write. I can’t wait to see what comes next! Do tell me how you found it (please and thank you)

Description: Revealed (and yes, that’s all you’re going to get)

They stayed in Saere for 2 days. The two longest days of Evan’s life, where all he could think about was what was to come. Ipsil felt it too, the steady beats as they together got ever closer to his fate. His memory. Although it had come late to the game, Evan’s curiosity arose out of its deep slumber and began to ask questions.

“So what is it exactly that I’ve forgotten?”  he would ask slyly, sneaking up behind Ipsil at all times of the day.

“I’ve told you” he repeated for the millionth or so time, “I can’t tell you, you have to find out on your own, something special”

Evan would simply raise his eyebrows and sigh and Ipsil rolled his eyes,

“You won’t get a word out of me. I prepped for this.”

Every once and again, he would get a word out, a thought escaped from Ipsil’s mind. Words like ‘society’ and ‘instructions’, but they were of no use separate. So it was that he waited impatiently. forced to wait around in absolute distress as he finally came to the conclusion that whatever it was he had forgotten was more than a few days, more than a simple reminder. It must have been part or all of his life. Alright done. Second question. How could he have forgotten? A simple knock on the head was a bit too weak for something of this strength. So he was forced to conclude that something or someone did this to him.

But how? Through magic, most likely. It sounded a bit crazy, like something from one of his fairy tales from childhood. Nevertheless, this egging little voice in the back of his head made him want to keep it. So he remembered that.

At last they left the smoked city, and were on their way to someplace new. Only a day passed before they hit the next city, one called Toll. This one was splendid. Shining and gleaming towers that rose high above the rest of the city, who lived in shops and homes that seemed so dark. So perhaps not so splendid, but really. Absolutely and splendidly split into the upper and the lower. So much so, that in fact they were named such ‘The Upper’ and ‘The Lower’.

As they arrived, Evan nearly jumped out of the caravan and sped away, his feet carrying him to the slums as fast as he could. He looked around as much as he could, every thief, every charlatan and looked under their hoods. Finally he found the last one, one simply sitting inside a pub drinking as calmly as the eye could see,

“Looking for me?” he asked, and as he turned around, Evan knew that this ‘he’ was the thief he had been looking for.

“Quite” he responded, smiling. “I need you to tell me about me”

“So where’s the leverage? What do I get?” he interrupted, “Name’s Paaren by the way”

“You get this” a voice spoke from the doorway.

Both men turned to find Ipsil standing there with a bag of something,

“You’d give that to me?” Paaren chuckled, “You must really be desperate. But at this point, I’m almost glad it’s over. And when you didn’t recognize me” he clutched his chest, “I almost cried, I was so hurt” He burst into laughter again, “But in all seriousness, I’m glad to do it, my friend. I’ve missed your face around my parts”

“Yes, yes please” he said pleadingly, “I’m ready”

“Alright” Paaren placated, “I’m getting to it” and he placed his hands to the apprentice’s temples. “This might tingle a bit”

All at once, his world exploded into color. Images moving so fast that they became a recording. Sounds blending together in a roar while he clutched his head, because it hurt so badly. Like being hit with an anvil, or that moment when you’re captured and locked up for years.

Wait. What was that last thought?

All thoughts of pain gone, Evan focused all his thoughts on remembering whatever was supposed to exist in this void. Slowly shapes appeared. Slowly he remembered who he was. Ipsil, the strange wandering magician, turned to a strong and powerful wizard, one that he revered as a friend and a companion. Paaren, a common petty thief, shifting to well, still a thief, but one of the best informants that he had ever met. And the golden-eyed man, the oddity, the dreamwalker. What would he turn into? As he waited, straining his thoughts, the answer suddenly came to him. The golden eyes, oh, how could he ever forget. How could he ever not remember his own brother, Wilfred.

Tears of joy filled his eyes as everything began to pour in. The organization, the society of the Speech, the one place where they tried to make everyone’s voices be heard. From the smallest creature that lived off of the will of generous people to the strongest leader in all the land, they listened and gave their voices power.

And who was he? Was he still Evan? Was that even his name, was he from that castle? Breaches formed in the walls surrounding the most valuable memory of all and they began to fall. All of them, strong and powerful thumps as they crashed down and Evan was faced with the truth of it all. What was kept from him.

He was no longer Evan, a poor young servant boy with a task. He was Voe Pattora, the prisoner escaped, the wrongfully imprisoned.

And he was back

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