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[Jinyel]

Cylus 3rd, 726


Zi’da had vanished, and with it had gone the sun.

The Cylus wind bit. It chased and nipped and tore at clothes, whistling through the streets of Scalvoris Town like a shepherd’s boy with no task but to irritate the sheep. The folk of that city, the good, decent folk who knew to stay alive with words and money alone, all tightened their coats and lowered their heads against the chill, eager to finish their business and more eager to be inside.

To the hunter amongst them, the cold’s edge was no more a concern than falling leaves.

The new year had left the streets emptier than usual, and Divi’s great mass forded them with ease. The silver dapple gelding snorted against the temperature, vapor billowing from his nostrils like a dragon. Steam curled off his flank, for they had been moving swiftly and relentlessly ever since catching sight of Scalvoris Town. Even so, the stocky draft’s pace remained strong.

The real spectacle of the journey was Ailuhn, trailing from a makeshift halter behind Divi’s rear with Monya following behind her. With no saddle or blanket, the creature kept warm by the strength of her own scales and nothing else. With mane and tail flowing behind her like an eel through water, she cut a striking figure whenever Cylus lantern light fell upon their little caravan. More than one passersby stared and pointed, but Jinyel paid them no mind ― Ailuhn could keep up, and that was all he could afford to worry about.

It was Lotus who was most valiant at the journey, whose short legs managed to keep surprisingly level pace with the much larger Divi and Ailuhn. The pony trotted on Divi’s left, and on his right followed their newest addition: a black, nimble stallion by the name of Masoch.

Jinyel knew it was improper to simply take the animal, but Sade had an entire ship to deal with. There was also no telling how long it would take to deal with his leech of a father. Jinyel’s task seemed no trouble at all by comparison, but it was difficult to feel any relief ― despite what Sade said, despite all claims of familial piety, the thief’s life always seemed measurably, painfully worse when his father was around.

The price of Pirvek’s happiness always seemed to demand Sade give up his own, and as someone to whom Sade’s happiness was a grave concern, Jinyel would have loved nothing more than to end this marriage by throwing the old biqaj into the sea. He’d never thought of himself as vengeful, but every now and then he would think of holding Pirvek down and grafting an artery to the back of his neck, forcing pints of that silver blood into the man’s son even though Sade didn’t need it. Give something back to him, you parasite, make this all worth it. Make your breath worth it. Make it make sense, why he loves your worthless hide so much.

All those words he couldn’t scream rolled between his teeth like stones, because they were not what Sade had asked them.

They weren’t what Sade wanted.

And Jinyel didn’t have to understand Sade’s wants to honor them.

The hunter did not belong here, amongst these hard streets and wooden walls and people. People who knew how to be people, and who understood words like “Judge” and “Law” and “Annul.” Who knew how to read pieces of paper before they signed them, and who would never have fallen into a trap like this. Any one of them might be able to help, he knew, but he dared not ask ― to even speak his words aloud felt like they would surely find their way back to the Hollow Prince.

Two seasons it had been now. Nearly a whole cycle of moving to and from the Prince’s roof, taking supplies from the Prince’s larder, and following the Prince from one end of Emea to the other. It was enough to forge a bond of trust ― it should have been. Jinyel could not explain why it wasn’t.

He could not explain why he still swallowed whenever he realized the Prince was beside him, or why the thought of the Prince knowing anything about Sade made his throat close up.

But Jinyel needed help to get what Sade wanted. But he barely knew anyone else on this island except for Artiga… and Rickith, Artiga’s laboratory neighbor. And he knew far less about Rickith than Rickith knew about him.

It was hard to tell the time of day now that Jinyel’s sun was gone, but the University of Scalvoris seemed barren. It was either very late or very early, and he didn’t care to linger and find out which.

A modest stable stood near the University entrance, with a pile of blankets on the stablehouse porch which soon proved to be the watchman. Two cold, bleary eyes stared up at Jinyel and his animals.

“You… are you here to deliver something?” A gangly, mop-haired teenager unburrowed from the pile. “The pony?”

No, Jinyel snapped. “No. Mine. All mine.”

“Three horses and a pony is a lot of stall space for one man, sir―”

Don’t care. “Won’t be long.” Jinyel dismounted and took Divi by the reins. “Where to?”

“Well, we have three stalls open, but the pony will have to share―what?”

The watchboy gasped so loudly that it made the whole courtyard echo. His eyes stretched wide as plates, his blankets sloughed off like old skin, and he flailed his hands as if the Immortals themselves had gathered before him.

“A sarkin!” the boy exclaimed, barely seeming to breathe. “By Soaire’s tits and turtles, it’s a sarkin!”

With his eyes, Jinyel followed a pointed finger to Ailuhn.

“Is that a delivery?” the boy rasped. “Please tell me that’s a delivery, please tell me it’s staying here.”

“No.” Aggression. “She is mine. With me. For no one else.”

“Oh.” The boy’s face fell. “Well, I’ll see to it she stays nice and warm, sir, we’ve got a stall fresh full of straw. Feel free to take as long as you want in your classes, she hasn’t a thing to worry about while I’m here.”

If it were under different circumstances, Jinyel would have turned around and taken them all into the wilderness where no one could so much as see Ailuhn. But these weren’t different circumstances, and he could not vanish to the wilds until he’d gotten free of this… predicament.

And so it was with an impatient frown that Jinyel handed over his animals, called Monya to his heel, and strode toward the University laboratories. He didn’t know if Artiga was even awake, or where she might be if not in their shared workshop. It was entirely likely he wouldn’t find her at all, and he didn’t know what he would do after that. But his options were this or the Prince. Everything else could be decided once he reached the laboratories.

[Rickith Lanza]

It was pretty late at night, and Rickith was doing what he did best, which was studying and experimenting. Dark hued eyes stared down towards a pamphlet that he had borrowed from the library, one detailing a variety of various flora and fauna within the Scalvoris region. He was specifically looking for flora that could affect the mental status of people. He had harvested and experimented with Jubiplunt before, which certainly could affect the mental status of someone, but now he was looking for something specifically that could affect the memories of a person. If a person with dementia happened to lose their memories, was there some sort of flora or fauna that could be prepared into a medicine to help recover their memories. Researching was simply something that he did in his spare time, and he seldomly went home before I had learned something new or discovered something new as he was in the university which seemed like all of the time now.

Flipping through the pages, he stopped when he saw the word that piqued his interested. "Memorberries". It had the name "Memor" which Rickith figured was a play off of memory, but further investigation was warranted to see if his guess was correct. Letting his dark gaze drift down towards the pages, under the candlelight, he read what he could about the plant, and found out that it was located in [knowledgeSweetwine, and seemed quite common there, but were pretty rare anywhere else. and it seemed it had the property of helping to retrieve lost memories. That could be helpful for someone with ALS/Dementia that had lost their memories or at least some of their memories. Perhaps it could be used to help restore them to full memories, but Rickith wasn't sure the extent that they could be used for that purpose, or how well they'd restore someone's memories.

That didn't much matter to him though, as he was plenty sure that it would be a useful medicine if he could work it properly. Sounded like a trip to sweetwine was in his future, but for now, it would be best to continue his research as he continued to flip through the pages of the book, in the alchemy lab which was not even a doorway or two from Artiga's lab. He didn't know whether she was in or not, but perhaps he'd hop over there at some point in the future to see how she was doing with her mushrooms. That Hunter person she was with, he thought, there was an air of familiarity with him in the way that he was signing. Rickith only knew broken sign language, but the movements he had sword he had seen before a few seasons ago, when in the Sacred Forest with Jinyel.

He often thought of that man, ever since he had recovered from his depression, and wanted to take a trip back there to find him again, and see how he was doing, or whether he was even still there. Doran had believed that he probably was, so Rickith would have to make that venture sooner than later. Once he was finished with his studies though, perhaps he could take a break in Ashan to head out there. It was almost an Arc ago that he had first ran into Jinyel through no fault of his own... well it was his fault for picking up that strange rainbow colored rock, but in the end he had met someone whom he considered a good friend, and often thought about even now, an arc later...

[Jinyel]

Jinyel did not suit this place. His clothes were too torn, his boots too dirty, and the wolf at his heel too uncomfortable with these closed quarters. In the modest walls of the Hollow Prince’s home, comfort had been easier; both Jinyel and Monya knew every person who was supposed to be inside, where they were, when they arrived and departed. The halls of the University were tall, smooth, even when Jinyel and Monya were the only ones travelling through this polished stone. Their footfalls were thrown back a thousandfold, and the cold made it seem all the sharper.

There was more light inside than outside, on account of the lanterns fixed generously to each pillar. Even the flames seemed orderly, no more willing to scorch their glass cages than the students were to raise their voices. Pointlessly, treacherously, Jinyel wondered what would happen if he slipped into a class and just roared. All his strength, all his magic, brought to bear against the very stone itself. Would it be enough to crack the walls or shatter eardrums? Would his power break the glass or bring this well-sewn crowd to its knees?

Would it break him free of this trap which seemed impossible to escape?

He could not read the signs on the wall or the shiny brass maps. Illiteracy, yet another failure which separated him from all the other people in this place, the people who actually knew how to be people. But his feet remembered the proper path, twisting and turning past the libraries and classrooms, each as empty as the halls. He chased the possibility of Artiga’s help into the laboratories, past the sprawling facilities reserved for the teachers’ favorite projects, past the sturdy, respectable facilities used by everyone else with only the half-decent projects, and finally to the small, stuffy facilities which housed the projects only valued by their own creators.

Artiga was not there. The mushroom colonies she shared with Jinyel were, healthy and warm from the brazier of banked coals in the middle of the room. Artiga was nowhere to be seen. She had to be in the student living quarters at this hour, which was a place Jinyel did not know how to find.

This laboratory was empty.

The laboratory two doors down was not.

For awhile, Jinyel simply stared at the brazier. He knew that laboratory two doors down. He glanced at it every time he walked these halls. When it was lit, he noticed. When it was dark, he noticed. When paper rustled or a voice coughed, when well-shod feet moved from one end to the other, he noticed. How many times had he paused on his way to Artiga’s laboratory simply to listen? To figure out if he had ever heard those feet before? More times than he could count on his hands.

Jinyel turned. Monya brushed against his hip as he set foot back in the hallway, her fur warm and familiar. He knew her exactly as well as she knew him. He remembered meeting her, harming her, healing her, and everything after. There were no missing pieces between himself and the wolf.

Jinyel stood in front of the laboratory two doors down, and he wondered how many missing pieces were between himself and the man inside.

He raised his hand to knock. Stopped. Let it drop. Contemplated walking away, but where would he go? To the Prince? Into the darkness?

How long was he going to run from the question behind this door? Who was Rickith, truly, to fill him with such hesitation?

He raised his hand to knock. Paused, still, in spite of everything. If this was all a mistake, no harm would be done. But if it wasn’t a mistake, if Rickith did truly know who Jinyel was, then…

Jinyel lowered his hand. Took a breath. He gritted his teeth, then lowered his hood and pulled down his mask. That was the central question ― Do you know who I am? Will you know this face, if you see it?

Will you know who I used to be?

Face bare and hair left loose to frame it, Jinyel finally mustered the courage to knock. Once. Twice. Three times. Monya whined, perhaps smelling his trepidation, and nosed gently at the door. Both of them, waiting for whatever answers might come to meet them.

[Rickith Lanza]

As Rickith's mind was stuck in what he was reading, it didn't register that someone was knocking upon the lab, until the third knock. Looking up from where he was sitting, he thought, who could be knocking at the lab door this late at night. Slowly picking himself up from the stool at the work bench he happened to be sitting at, he made his way over slowly towards the door. Hopefully it isn't some snobby professor trying to chase students out of the lab who happen to stay late at night. That's one thing he always dreaded when studying here late at night, but once he arrived at the door and opened it, his heart nearly stopped. At least, it felt like it did.

Looking towards the man before him, his mouth dropped open a bit, and he stammered, "Ji...Jinyel?" He didn't know what to say, he was a bit speechless at the moment as he thought that Jinyel was still down in the Sacred Forest, or anywhere but Scalvoris. He had yearned to see him again, but this was entirely unexpected. "C... come in," he stammered still, taking a step back to let the man through the door. Once the man stepped into the lab, Rickith would close the door behind him, until he noticed the wolf making its way into the lab behind Jinyel.

Letting his eyes gaze down at the large creature, he then allowed his dark gaze to shift back to Jinyel, motioning towards the wolf and asking, "Is he yours?" Once the wolf fully entered the lab, Rickith would close the door behind the beautiful creature, and turn to face Jinyel again. "I... I'm so happy to see you... when I disappeared while walking in the Sacred Forest last Cylus alongside of you, I thought I'd end up never seeing you again, but it does my heart well, knowing that you're okay!" he exclaimed, a smile crossing his face as he looked towards him. "How... when did you get to Scalvoris?" he asked, and then seemingly put 2 and 2 together, "Were you that person named Hunter that was helping Artiga with her mushrooms?"

[Jinyel]

Jinyel listened, and for a long, piercing moment, he thought the laboratory occupant hadn’t heard him. The silence flexed, cut mercifully short by the thud of a closing book and the scrape of a chair over floor. Feet padded their way. Monya tensed, and Jinyel lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

He’d expected… well, he didn’t know what he’d expected. A moment to breathe, at least, once Rickith opened the door, to survey the other man’s reaction and prepared himself for what it meant. But the recognition in those brown eyes was instant, and Rickith came right out and said it:

Jinyel.

Jinyel flinched. He couldn’t help it. It had been so long since he heard that name. So long guarding it like an artery that he sometimes forgot he wasn’t Hunter, or Wicker, or the shadowy butcher of Almund alleys. Once upon a time, he had been himself and nothing else, no parasite in his soul, no powerful men slicing their way into his mind.

Who had Jinyel been in the Sacred Forest? He knew of that place as if from a story, and the old woman he had followed away from it ― Agnis, her name was Agnis ― came back to him only in bits and pieces. A village on the edge of open plains. A tribe of wanderers in the grass. He remembered those. Little else.

Rickith invited him inside. That seemed like the correct thing to do.

Monya relaxed once the door was closed behind them. She put her nose to the ground and began to pace circles around the room, scenting and inspecting everything within reach. She paused once at Rickith to sniff his hand, but decided that no harm would come from that hand, and returned to her investigation.

Jinyel, for his part, was content to listen. He found a counter to lean against, quietly observing Rickith as he parsed through his words.

Sacred Forest. Last Cylus. So happy to see you. It does my heart well.

The hunter had grown more discerning of social custom. There was affection in Rickith’s voice which he had not expected. It was… surprising, but not unwelcome.

Yes. Jinyel dipped his head. In this place, “I am Hunter. For now.”

His next words failed him. What was the proper thing to say in this situation? To pretend memories where none existed? To explicitly admit he did not remember last Cylus, and the painful, complicated reason why?

“I am… grateful for your friendship,” he eventually managed. Gratitude, genuine. “In Scalvoris, I have been cautious with my name.” Did I…

Give it to you willingly? he didn’t finish. He must have introduced himself willingly, for this reunion to have such warmth. The knowledge sat oddly in his chest.

Regardless, “I am glad to see you well. You don’t…” Unsure how to phrase this. “You seem more suited to this place of books and knowledge than to a forest. How did you come to be there, last Cylus? How did you disappear?”

[Rickith Lanza]

To be honest, Rickith was a bit taken back by the question he was asked. The man didn't recall how he came to be there? It was a pretty significant event, thought Rickith as he looked at him carefully. It had been almost an arc, and he had only spent about twenty trials with Jinyel before disappearing again back to Scalvoris, so perhaps the man had so much happen in his life that he just couldn't recall much about Rickith. Making excuses in his mind though wouldn't dim the fact that it was still very significant for Rickith as Jinyel had been his first point of contact when he got lost within the Sacred Forest through picking up one of the rainbow colored stones that had appeared upon the beaches of Scalvoris.

"I'm honestly a bit shocked that you don't remember it... it was a very jarring experience for us both, how I came to be in the Sacred Forest. You see, I was on the beaches of Scalvoris, looking for some alchemy reagents potentially, when I found a strangely colored rock that looked like it was a rainbow upon it's surface. When picking up the rock, before I had the chance to see what was going on, I heard a rush of wind around me, and a loud popping noise, and suddenly found myself in the Sacred Forest. When I realized I had been transported somewhere entirely different than Scalvoris, I was beset by a giant wart hog. You happened to be in the area, and through your quick intervention, I was saved, though you didn't come out unscathed. I ended up bandaging you up, and you took me to the Medical Headquarters, where the following day you had been healed somehow, and let me know that there were advanced medical techniques they used to heal you," he said, his dark gaze looking towards Jinyel

He did feel warm to him, as he had grown fond of him during the short time they had been together in the Sacred Forest. It pained him that he ended up disappearing back to Scalvoris about 20 trials later. "We got to know each other fairly well, at least I though I got a good sense of who you were as a person, quite timid, but willing to give the shirt off your back to help someone. About twenty trials after I first arrived, we were walking through the Sacred Forest going searching for reagents, and the loud rush of wind suddenly hit me, and the loud popping noise came, and by the time I looked up, I was back in Scalvoris, with you no where to be found... It pained me greatly to leave you alone in the woods like that, and I thought you must have thought that something horrible had happened to me. I had planned to travel back to the Sacred Forest, but had fallen into a depression the more I thought about my mother's passing and spiraled nearly out of control before finally coming to my senses last cycle..." As he finished explaining this to Jinyel, he then would ask, "You don't remember any of this happening, at all?"

[Jinyel]

Rickith was taken off guard by the question. For a moment, he examined Jinyel thoughtfully. He shared his thoughts without being asked, and for that the hunter was grateful. Jinyel settled comfortably against the counter and listened, his expression as neutral as he could make it.

Jarring. That word didn’t surprise him. Being jarred in one way or another seemed to be Jinyel’s default experience, and Scalvoris had already proven itself so bizarre that a rainbow stone which transported someone all the way to the Eternal Empire was not bizarre at all.

But in all his years, in all his skulking and shooting and desire to succeed, Jinyel had never once considered himself a hero. When the story slanted in that direction, it was more jarring than the teleportation. Warthogs were large, aggressive animals, and felling one was a risky task. From Rickith’s story, it sounded like Jinyel had paid for that victory with a significant injury.

An injury which Jinyel hadn’t healed himself.

An injury which disappeared overnight, due to ‘advanced medical techniques’ of the Imperial Medical headquarters.

Jinyel tilted his head at that. On his chest, the ghostly bones of his witchmark tingled. Someone else must have healed his injury, all those dark nights ago. You knew me before, Jinyel realized. You knew my soul while it was still pure. Perhaps you were the last.

Heroic, but also timid. Willing to give someone the shirt off his back. The Jinyel in Rickith’s story was a stranger, a character, unreal, in a way which made the hunter in the laboratory almost annoyed at him. That Jinyel was frightened, naive, and altruistic, a fool who had given away their shared name without the real Jinyel’s consent.

He would have been annoyed at himself, if he remembered his own half of this story. But here, now, it felt like a fictional character had somehow managed to make real, Idalosian mistakes and which fell to Jinyel to deal with.

Rickith knew his name. That couldn’t be helped, and certainly there was no blame upon Rickith himself. That warmth wasn’t fictional, nor the way the student’s face fell at mention of his mother. That sadness was real, and Jinyel was sad to see it, if only because Rickith had already shown such empathy to him.

Sorrow for you, genuine. “I am sorry to hear of your troubles. I wish I had the power to ease them.”

It wasn’t an answer to what Rickith had asked. Not yet. The student was kind, yes, but he was also clever, and it was with a shockingly swift cleverness that he suspected Jinyel’s lack of memory. Jinyel didn’t know if Rickith’s cleverness made him more comfortable, or less. At the very least, it reminded him to hold tightly to what secrets he still had, and if he had to loosen them, to only do so if he got something in exchange.

“I do not remember,” Jinyel admitted. Tangled. Broken. Stolen from me. “For… complicated reasons. Reasons which would take more time to explain than I have to give. I came to this place seeking Artiga’s help, but if she is gone, I must find answers elsewhere. I am grateful for your” story “memory. If you were sorry to leave my company, I will give it to you now if you help me. I need to know how to divorce someone, or annul, or whatever the proper term is. If you cannot help, then I’m afraid I must leave and find someone who can, as quickly as I can. Too many things have already delayed me.”

[Rickith Lanza]

The Jinyel that stood before him was certainly much different than the one that had been there in the Sacred Forest with him. More abrupt, less timid, and more guarded in a sense. It was a strange feeling to Rickith given what he had known of the man prior. As he laid out why he was seeking Artiga's help, Rickith did not denote any emotion on his face at the words "divorce", "Annul" and whatnot. Somehow this version of Jinyel had gotten married? A small pang of jealousy ran through Rickith's mind which he pushed to the back of it. This is not the Jinyel you once knew, he said to himself, realizing that whatever memories that Jinyel had had of Rickith, were gone now, for whatever reason. It was Jinyel, and it wasn't at the same point in time. Perhaps they could be brought back though, as Rickith had just read about a type of fauna that can be used to help retrieve lost memories.

"I can help you with that, but... when did you get married?" he asked, biting his tongue afterwards, the curiousity getting the better of him. To help him become "divorced", Rickith would have to take him to a government office in Scalvoris in order to sign divorce papers, but he also recalled that generally they other person needed to agree to a divorce, so perhaps an annulment was the proper thing to do instead. Rickith had never been married himself, but his mother was at one point, and he recalled her getting an annulment from his father arcs ago when he was still a child, due to his father leaving them to "protect" them. What the real story was, Rickith didn't know, but it seemed that Jinyel needed assistance, and that was something that Rickith was more than willing to provide.

"What issues are you actually having with getting divorced? Is the other party not willing? Do you think an annulment might be a better way to go?" he then questioned, trying to get more information about the situation from him exactly so that he would better be able to assist him. Depending on how Jinyel responded, Rickith would hopefully further be able to assist him with this matter, but he definitely needed more information on the situation.

"If I help you out with this divorce, might you be willing to let me help you recover your lost memories of our time together?" he then asked, after thinking about it for a moment, a part of him yearning for Jinyel to remember their time together in the sacred forest...

[Jinyel]

Rickith was willing to help, both with the divorce and the amnesia. Jinyel raised an eyebrow at that, though he could not begin to guess how a person could simply recover memories as if they were misplaced possessions. At the very least, he was sure it would require time he did not yet have, and that led him to the other part of Rickith’s questioning.

Jinyel shifted, glancing down at the worktable as he measured a response. The actual obstacle to his divorce was simple, but one he struggled to just come out and say. He hadn’t known that Pirvek would also need to be present for a divorce, and that thought filled him with dread. Not because of the time it would take to go and fetch him, but because he was sure that spending even one more second in the Biqaj’s presence would remove any need for divorce ― Jinyel would make himself a widower and end the marriage that way. Only the Fates knew why Sade allowed that old leech to keep the title of ‘father,’ but he wanted Pirvek to live, and it wasn’t Jinyel’s place to protest.

But if annulment would allow the process to happen with no need of Pirvek, all the better.

“I was married near the end of Zi’da,” Jinyel answered. “Not by my own choice, but what’s done is done. And must now be undone. I…” Discomfort. Reluctant to say.

Of all his missing pieces of personhood, this one seemed the largest. It was so fundamental to society’s memory, and so foreign to his own. It could trap a man against his will, twist his action into things he did not intend, and somewhere, somehow, there was a piece of paper with words upon it that controlled what people thought of him. Who they thought he should be with, and in what way.

To Jinyel, paper words were no more binding than spoken words. Less so, since he could not understand them. But the less he understood, the more power they seemed to have, and he did not like others having any sort of power over him.

“I do not understand this,” he admitted. “Any of it. Where to go, or what to do once I get there. A piece of paper came to Scalvoris Town with his name on it, and mine. Well, it had ‘Hunter’ on it. I presume it went where all other marriage papers go, and I do not know where that place might be.”

Hesitation. Slight disbelief, but willing to listen.

“I do not know how you intend to recover my memories. They weren’t ‘lost’ so much as ‘destroyed.’ It’s difficult to explain. But if you help me with this, once the paper words are unmade, I will thereafter be willing to try. After Faldrass. I must go to Faldrass as soon as it is done, and if you come with me, we can try on the way. If not, I will return here once…” the sun is eased “everything else is made right. I have a horse for you to ride and money if you wish for it, if you show me where to go.”

[Rickith Lanza]

Faldrass, Rickith thought. He had been there at one-point last cycle, looking for Jubiplunt, for experiments with ALS/Dementia treatments. Sadly, that was not where the Memorberries were, but he could go with Jinyel if Jinyel wanted his company in Faldrass, or at least meet him there once he had obtained some memorberries from Sweetwine. When Jinyel stated that the memories were not so much as lost, rather they had been destroyed, that intrigued Rickith a bit. "The mind is a wonderful thing," he said. "I've never heard of memories being destroyed before, usually they just get bogged down under layers of subconsciousness, I'll need to know a bit more about what happened to potentially help you with it, but, first things first, let's see if we can't get this marriage annulled for you..." he said, a slight smile crossing his face.

When Jinyel offered him a horse to ride and money, Rickith shook his head. "I'll use the horse to help get us there faster, as I'm sure walking would be slower than usual, but it is fairly late at night time, so I'm not sure if anyone would happen to be where we need to go, which is the Scalvoris Town Council Hall... and no need to pay me, all the payment I'll need would be to help you recover your memories somehow or someway..." he stated as he looked towards him.

Walking over towards the book he had been pouring over for information, he took his journal and placed it within his satchel and then blew out the candle that was next to the book to help provide further illumination. "I was about done here anyway, with my research for the evening, We can see if the council hall is open, and if anyone is there this late in the evening, and if not, we can meet up there tomorrow sometime, during the day, not that it's daytime at any point during Cylus, but I'm sure you catch my drift," he told Jinyel, and then motioned for him to lead the way to the horse...