Once, there was one of the People. An elvhen named Abelas who lost his heart. His sorrow was all consuming, and endless so he fled into the forest to search for a place of peace. Since he was a young child there were tales of a large black stag who would take memories in exchange for something greater - a glimpse of what was to come - if only one could find it. Any of the People could petition the stag to take a memory, and that is what Abelas wished for.
The man fell to his knees in the middle of the forest where no bird sang, no wind whistled through the trees. Only the sounds of his gasping cries. An anguished shout as he called for the stag, begging him to take his memory of his husband from him so he did not have to suffer in his absence.
“Sathan, please! Stag of Truth and Memory! Take these memories from me! Sunder them from my mind so that I may forget his voice, his laughter, his touch. I cannot continue without him, for it is agony to remember who I will never hold again.”
The forest gave him no answer, the stag did not appear.
Abelas called out once more, his voice a song filled of despair, ”I do not ask for anything in return, merely to forget.” After the final word left his lips, a great black stag stepped from the trees. Taller than any creature Abelas had seen before, antlers forming a crown like a king, and as quiet as a final breath. Its antlers arched toward the sky like gnarled, darkened branches of a tree older than time, and from them hung ribbons, bells and small scraps of paper. Each marked in ink, some new, some faded with age. Names lost to time, others stained with tears long since dried.
At first, the stag did not speak, a silence marred with the soft twinkling of bells as a breeze floated through the forest. Then, Abelas heard a voice within his mind, the stag stared at him with unblinking yet gentle eyes, ”You seek to forget. But to forget is not a mercy. You would abandon all memory - both joy and pain - to ease your longing?”
The man rose onto his knees, and bowed his head to the great stag. His voice filled with the bitter taste that came with grief, ”I cannot live with the weight of all that I must remember of him.”
The stag lowered its head so that its brow rested upon Abelas’, his great antlers curling around him in comfort. That soundless voice in Abelas’ mind returned, ”To grieve is to remain bound to the truth. Do you truly wish to sever the thread of his memory, to remove that last fragment of truth that binds you to him? Child, let your heart break beneath the memory of love, do not let yourself grow hollow in his absence. For if you remember him, he is not gone.”
As the man started to weep - for he knew the words of the stag only brought truth - he felt the comfort of the fond memory of his marriage. A beautiful spring day filled with laughter, and love, that should not be forgotten. To carry the memory of his love was worth the pain that weighed upon his heart. On unsteady feet, Abelas rose to stand. He removed a strip of fabric from the cloak of his husband, and knotted it around an antler.
With a shake of the stags’ head, the bells that hung from its antlers chimed in the wind, creating a sense of calm in the clearing. Before it left, the stag spoke once more, ”Without memory, they are gone. Carry them, do not cast them aside. For you will be reunited with them when your time comes to pass.”
As Abelas exited the forest, walking back to his home, his grief had not lessened but it no longer felt like an open wound, it felt like a promise.
