From within the log house, the trio could hear approaching hooves and feared their impending doom. They moved fast, Medea dug Fus out from Rafael's chest, wrapped some sheets around it, went out back, and tossed it in the river.
She paused for a few moments, a damp feeling tugging at her heart, then went back, into the house. Fairchild and Mycroft had waited for her and she led them to the courtyard.
The union of Sodom, the entire order of the Bull, except Chadnezzar who was on a self-imposed exile, representatives from each of the families in Sodom, as well as, DaVinci and even Ichabod were present.
Mycroft swallowed hard but Medea put on a brave face while Fairchild had an unreadable expression.
"Heads of the family of Gomorrah, we have gathered here to offer our condolence to you, over your loss." The head of the Bull order announced, much to the shock of Medea and Mycroft.
The latter actually, exhaled deeply and whispered from the side of his mouth,
"To think that I almost wet myself, 'phew', I did not see that coming."
The sinners all, sat in thrones of their own construct, each more ostentatious than the last. The entire sinners from Gomorrah had gathered and Brut took his place with his masters.
DaVinci also came forward, saying something about close friends to the family. He erected thrones for the three of them and a long, ornate table while he and Brut flanked them.
The sinners proceeded to grant the family their gifts. Most of which were monetary. Some, DaVinci included, gave clothing materials and the rest, whatever they could present.
The gifts were so much that the sinners constructed silos for them. There were more gold coins than most sinners present had ever seen.
Ichabod gave, on behalf of TSOI, a whole silo of sin. He also gave another silo, this one, filled with gold coins and a third, filled with precious stones.
The Roth arrived, later on, bearing his own gifts. Ichabod sat next to him, he planned to ask him for help as regards his search for Forsythe.
Medea and Mycroft looked on, dumbfounded and confused. None of them could understand what was going on. If the sinners didn't have his body, who did?
*****************************
Rafael moved, bursting through the surface with her. They gasped for air as the effects of their prolonged sojourn underwater hit them.
"I think I'll need a new shirt." He breathed, hanging both arms. Myra smiled, probably at his effort to cover up the awkward situation.
She turned and waded the water to the shore, climbed onto a rock, and wrung her hair. He took the shirt - or at least what was left of it, off and got out of the water. "I'll start a fire." He said, walking past her.
A few minutes later, they sat close to the flames, warming themselves. Myra was across the fire from Rafael, she sat cross-legged, her torso was wrapped in the shawl and her dress was down to her waist.
She kept stealing glances at him, he was enshrouded in mystery but she felt that some things were best left unknown. Within herself, she'd reconciled that it was selfish but she couldn't help wishing that this period lasted forever.
Rafael had caught some of those glances coming his way, he felt there was something growing between them but he didn't want to get her entangled in the mess that was his life. He didn't know who he was or what he'd done before he'd lost his memory.
What if he'd been involved in something dangerous? That contraption did look scary and he'd had it on himself. What was it for anyway? He had a lot on his mind and he needed answers.
"Rafael, He looked up, at her. She was standing next to him. He didn't even notice her movement. She offered him a hand, he took it and this time, things went as intended. "Stop thinking, She said. "Let it all go, let's escape this world for a while.
The statement struck him as familiar but he couldn't tell where from. He also felt this was something he'd be okay with. Maybe she was right, he thought as he looked down at her, at times, it was better to just, live in the moment.
His hands held the sides of her face, they stared at each other, her face wasn't telling him to stop but it wasn't exactly telling him to go either. However, as he leaned in, he could tell, by the quickening in her pulse, he was on the right track. Their lips met in blissful harmony, Myra sighed against his lips, her body suddenly felt weightless and she leaned against him for support.
Their lips parted slowly, if not reluctantly and their foreheads maintained the contact. Her arms slid around his waist, he looked up, hugging her closer and her head nestled at the corner between his jawline and neck. "Rafael, it came out more hoarse than she would've wanted. She swallowed and he felt it against his skin. "Is it wrong to want something that just feels so right?"
Rafael swallowed, to avoid the same fate. "No, it's not." He answered; that was a simpler answer to give.
She swallowed again, it hung there in her throat and she struggled to find her voice for a bit. "It's bizarre, I know, she sniffed, "I've known you for just a short while and most of that time, I spent, thinking you were someone you're not. And now I've gotten to know you, I don't want to let go." She snuggled closer.
Rafael sighed deeply and looked upward. She'd aroused feelings that shook him to the core but he could never be okay not knowing what his previous life was. What did she mean by saying that she thought he was someone he wasn't? There were too many questions that he needed answers to. "Myra-"
"I don't care what you were in your past life, she cut in. "I-" she hesitated.
"But I do." He cut in, spotting a chance in her hesitation and taking it. He exhaled deeply as the weight left his chest. "No matter what, it's still my life. I want-, no I need to know what my life was like before I lost my memory, I need to know how and why I lost my memory."
She moved backward to get a better view of him, "You were living someone else's life, but that's all in the past now. You can start afresh, you've got a clean slate now."
"I don't want to start afresh.
She stepped backward, breaking their embrace.
He saw the expression on her face and sighed, "At least not until I know what happened before this."
"Isn't this enough for you?"
"I will never be satisfied with not knowing who I was.
A deafening silence arose and drowned out everything else. For an eternity, the couple stood, their inability to find words spoke volumes.
"'I' what Myra?"
She wrapped her arms around herself and her lower lip quivered as she spoke, "I want to be left alone."
He breathed deeply, this was it then. He walked away, following the river, although in the opposite direction from the current. He traced back to the pathway where they'd first met and on to her home.
Rafael snuck in, to Myra's room. He still didn't have his memory back so he needed to think of a plan on how to get that done. Surely she wouldn't mind him sleeping here for one more night
. He took a sheet, spread it on the floor by the wall opposite the door, and lay on his back, his right forearm resting on his forehead.
If only she could wait for him. If he was pretending to be someone else, then, leaving that life behind would be easy.
***************************
The sinners of Gomorrah scuttled about, arranging a small feast for their guests while their hosts conversed amongst themselves.
"DaVinci, why aren't your constructs uniform?" Mycroft asked, trying to engage him in a discussion under normal circumstances.
"What exactly do you mean by uniform?"
"You, I mean, we can all make constructs. However, it seems some of us can only make them in black while some others can actually make theirs however they please."
"Oh yes, it is as you say you know, that is because some of us are at a higher sin level than others. The ability to do that depends on one's level of sin. As you can see, I, a sentry, make mine in black, just like the sin it is." He explained, smiling.
Mycroft nodded, "That makes sense."
"Of course it does." He snapped, like anyone doubting him should be hanged.
"And are you in an order or family?"
"I am the divine DaVinci of the Order of the Pegasus." He announced, swelling with pride.
Mycroft barely contained the laughter, it was escaping in small outbursts which he covered up with coughs. DaVinci eyed him with one eyebrow raised and he tried to restrain it, then, he remembered the statement and had to excuse himself.
Medea and Fairchild, however, sat visiting with those who came to pay their regards. Fairchild did most of the talking though, while Medea just sat and stared.
"And the burial? Any plans yet?"
"And you are..." Fairchild asked.
"Credo. The head of the union in Sodom."
"Oh, pardon my manners, the burial will be in a fortnight."
"Very well then, the union shall procure banners for the occasion." He assured. "Believe me, my lady, I'm truly sorry for your loss." He said.
However, Fairchild's eyes were on his tracker which hung from his neckpiece. It had just received a telling boost. Credo's eyes followed Fairchild's down to it and he tucked it within his robe, stammering something unintelligible as he left, avoiding their faces.
The Roth sat with the prim lady, they'd paid their regards. Once again, he hadn't experienced this happenstance previously and tried to present as much as he could. He even brought along everyone who'd previously made contact with Lord Forsythe within his kingdom.
Only Myra was absent and the lady had just informed him.
"Why isn't she here?"
"I have no idea, my lord. She didn't report at the castle yesterday and this morning so she wasn't informed."
"Why didn't you send someone to her place? You have no idea where she lives too?"
"Of course not. The lady declared. "It's one of the few close to the river on the north side. Then again, Myra is the most punctual and regular of the lot. A really devoted servant. I had expected her to arrive eventually and by the time you talked about this occasion, she'd totally slipped my mind."
"Saul, Ichabod was one of the few people that called the Roth by his first name. "I overheard your discussion. This girl you speak of, made contact with Forsythe?"
"Yes, my lord. According to lady Leah, she attended to his quarters before they moved here."
"His quarters you say?" Ichabod looked at Leah.
"Yes, milord." She answered.
Ichabod nodded, "And she lives close to the river, specifically, on the north side of the kingdom?"
"Yes, milord."
"This servant girl, Myra, would not just absent herself from her duties?"
"Not at all." She assured. "She somehow manages to be around whenever help is needed."
"Good." He smiled, "Right now, I'm in dire need of help. In fact, you could say it's a case of life or death."