she has never heard - or at least, she doesnât think she has - of a person describing colors as having feelings. but there is nothing remotely ordinary about the man sat before her. despite youthful features his voice holds the cadence of one much older; as if history itself was formed on his lips. and for the first time in a while, cassie finds herself at ease in the presence of a stranger - for this one does not carry memories she cannot reach but instead provides new paths to doors she has yet to open.Â
  she frowns, rose blush lips pursing at the question. the colors, she thinks, or perhaps the way her voice sharpened around the word have given her away. perhaps she ought not to convey so much to someone she doesnât know but cernunnos doesnât strike her as one to gossip. ânoâŚi suppose not.â she says finally, having mulled over how honest to be with him. âthough i havenât yet had a better explanation.â a finger taps lightly at the back of her head where the old wound once was. âi was knocked out-â she says quietly, lowering her voice lest they be overheard. âand when i woke up, i had no memory of my life before then. itâs as though my memories are there but i canât quite grasp them. i have feelings of familiarity, anger, happiness-â love, she almost says but catches herself. âbut i donât remember any of my past.â she withdraws her hand to join them on the table. âthe silent brothers have healed me but they canât retrieve my memories. they donât know what is blocking them.â
perhaps itâs the father in him that prompted him reach into his pocket and pull out a simple seeming acorn. listening to her explain, the warlock couldnât help feel defensive- there was something so questionable about the story behind her so called accident- and his thumb smoothed over the acorn with the barest touch of soft green wisps of light.Â
infusing the acorn with protective magic.
â iâm sure clearer answers will come one day, eventually. memories are a funny thing- people think they have control over what they can recall and what they cannot â cernunnos gave her a rueful smile. â we can blame ourselves for forgetting things but really itâs out of our control. when itâs time for you to know you will because certain memories and experiences refuse to be kept buried: no amount of magic can change that â
he offered the acorn to her.
â the silent brothers are a powerful group and it can often feel like theyâre all capable- that they can solve everything and if they canât, that means there is no hope. just because they donât know whatâs causing this doesnât mean you should be frightened or worried- you could ask a million scholars what an ancient artefactâs purpose is and they might never decipher it, and then one day a little child could come by and just stumble across the answer⌠power and knowledge is not equal to how achievable the solution is nor how likely it is that there is a solution âÂ
the old man gave her a bright smile, somewhere between reassuring and sad. sad for his own mess of memories and the ache of knowing someone so young was experiencing the same confusion he had suffered with for centuries.
â that acorn isnât much, but it always helped my children to sleep at night when they were frightened about something â he looked bashful for a moment. â you donât have to keep it, but i thought it might ease your mind a littleâÂ