The speed at which the stranger gathered firewood surprised her. Nimble and sure-footed, they traipsed into the trees with only the rustling bushes and loud, hollow crack of banging wood to tell where they’d gone. At a loss for what to do with herself, she decided not to tuck her hands under her armpits. It didn’t do much to block out her shivering and only reminded her how sodden her clothes were with how water dripped down onto her toes wriggling in the soil. Now she understood why the stranger didn’t want her too close. Damp cold sept into her very bones, making her teeth chatter, and it wasn’t something she’d wish on anyone. No matter how much they irritated her.

Though changing in front of a stranger didn’t strike her as the best option, this would’ve been all the more bearable if she had a change of clothes. She remained standing and waiting as the stranger puttered about in the woods. Yet, even that seemed silly. She didn’t know them from a single blade of grass, and no matter how familiar their words, uncertainty tainted everything that came out of their mouth.

Blame cast upon that tiny light she owed both her waking and confusion to. At the time, following was her best option as its words proved true. She glanced over her shoulder. Lake Mnemoyse sat still and quiet, reflecting none of the turmoil roiling around in her head, much to her displeasure. Despite how beautiful the waters appeared, their tranquility kindled loathing in her heart as she considered the stranger’s words.

How much time was lost here, and for what reason?

She wracked her brain, searching the light’s ring for any sign, but another loud, resounding sneeze left her disoriented.

Just as she regained her bearings, the stranger poked their head out of a bush as if summoned. Thick layers of dark brown curls mussed up with leaves resembled a bramble patch while their eyes were round and wide. “That sounded like a big one,” they hissed sympathetically, tumbling out of the bush with a cord of wood tucked under their arm. They tapped the toe of their shoe against the ground a few times, hopping forward on one foot before repeating the process with the other. She hadn’t noticed until they were close enough to stand toe to toe with her, but they were about her height, making it impossible not to meet their eyes. Still, she looked away and shielded her throbbing nose from view. Wary as they fiddled about inside of their vest.

“Here,” they said, holding out their closed fist. They turned their fist upward when she looked closer and unfurled their fingers, revealing a dark, moss-covered rock. “Should help you warm up until I can get the fire going.”

Moss aside, the rock itself didn’t look to be anything spectacular. Small enough around to fit in the center of the stranger’s palm while being jagged on one side and well-worn to a smooth curve on the other. “This is a rock,” she stated flatly.

The stranger quirked a brow then rolled their eyes, presenting the rock to her between forefinger and thumb. “Just hold it, and you’ll see.”

She didn’t take it immediately because, for all pretenses, it looked like an ordinary stone. They don’t break eye contact with her, and she sees no mockery in their eyes. Yet still, she hesitates to take it. She endured enough ridicule for one day. But as if to remind her of her current state, water dripping down her neck, and she grimaced at the trail it left. Then, to her surprise, a wave of heat brushed against her chin. Her eyes dropped to the inconspicuous rock as wave after wave of heat flowed toward her then ebbed away. Enticing as the offer was, she hesitates before carefully brushing her finger over the blue-green, springy moss. Mesmerized as the numbing chill thawed leaving her fingers warm and tingling.

Her eyes flicked up to her companion’s face then lowered reluctantly as she cupped the rock in her palm. “Thanks…” muttered with a deep, slow sigh. Heat pulsed through clammy skin, spreading down the length of her arms to her shoulders and downwards in lazy rolls, like a meandering river. She tried her best not to wince at the thought. Averting her gaze when she incidentally glimpsed the stranger’s dopey grin before they dropped the firewood in a small grassless plot.

They make quick work of arranging the sticks though she can’t make heads or tails of it aside from being a less disorderly pile. But from the way their lips quirk and the little wiggle they do as an ember sparks, she assumed something was done right. Their back remained to her as she busied warming herself with the rock, puzzled as to how they managed to heat something like this. She wondered if they would be willing to teach or tell her, but her head ached as several unanswered questions arose. Tired of standing, she sat down and clutched the rock to her chest, letting it run over her clothes.

“Was there anyone else here waiting with you?”

The stranger’s head pops up, and a single eye peers over their shoulder at her. “Mm,” they seemed to give the thought some serious consideration, and hope buds in her chest, straining to sprout. “Nah. The folk in town don’t really come out this far. A few kids might push out for dares nowadays, but the stories keep them spooked as far as the forest.”

The bud wilted, and honestly, she felt silly. The voice itself had even warned her that what she’d been experiencing was a dream. Just as possible, she could have dreamt up that little light to spur herself on from making a bad mistake by giving in.

“Was there someone you were looking for?” They ask, and when she looked over, she noticed the crackling fire now roaring to life behind them. Its warmth spread toward her, and she felt like throwing herself down beside it to soak in the heat. Instead, she walked over and sank down with a small distance between her and the stranger. Knees pulled to her chest and feet turned in with ankles crossed, the rock in her hands pressed close to her chest.

From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the stranger’s face and tried to imagine their eyes as bright as gold. They indeed were brilliant, but instead of gold, it was like the fresh soil along the lake’s shore. There was no darkness there, nor mocking or childish excitement. Only concern and confusion.

“I guess… not.”

She tried to keep the disappointment from coloring her words. Still, the stranger must have heard it because their lips pinched together, one eye narrowed while the opposite’s brow lifted. “You guess?”

Heat crept along her cheeks as she thought of explaining to the stranger that she mistakenly thought they were a speck of light from her dream-made flesh. A beat of silence, thick with accusation, passed between them following the question. Her response came out a little more harsh than she intended, “No, there wasn’t.”

“Right,” the stranger drew back with blatant disbelief and a roll of their eyes that only rankled her mood further. “Well, who are you?”

“Isn’t it polite to introduce yourself first?” She replied immediately, then chided herself internally. She shouldn’t be too crossed with someone who went to such lengths for her without even knowing the first thing about her. But in that, she wasn’t sure how to trust this stranger because they knew much more than they were letting on.

The stranger shook their head, leaves drifting down onto their lap. “Fair enough,” they said. With a hand pressed to their chest, they gave a bow as short and mocking as they could with how they sat cross-legged at their end of the fire. “The name is Pan, milady.”

She scowled. “Milady?”

Their curls bounced as they lifted their head, grinning from ear to ear impishly. “Because that’s what they call you,” with a dramatic flourish of the hand, they gestured to her. “The Lady of the Lake.”

“That’s embarrassing,” she groaned, brushing a hand over the stiffened hem of her nightgown to distract herself from the stranger’s snickering.

“Do you have some other name then?”

Pinching a clump of grass she chucked further away from them. She huffed, “Of course I do, it’s….”

Her mouth opens but when she tries to summon the words, nothing emerges. Her tongue stops half-way in forming a sound. Throat tightening then loosening as her mind halted, then started again at the inquiry. What was her name?

She supposed it made sense that she should have a name. Every living being would have one, but she couldn’t seem to bring the word to mind. It was like a blurred space in the back of her mind and try as she might to wipe it clean, the smudge only persisted. She pressed her lips together, gazing into the fire at the wood gradually breaking apart. Holes burned into the grain glowing like eyes, gazing back at her curiously.

“It’s…” The stranger prompted, but their mirth is gone now and she didn’t need to look at them to know they were staring at her with that concerned expression again.

“It’s..” Her lips parted again but the first syllable wouldn’t even pass her tongue. Remembrance tasted bitter at the back of her throat and she gulped it down, trying again, “It..”

Her mouth clamped shut, and the back of her eyes stung but she wasn’t sure why. “I…” Voice pitched and lips quivering, she stayed there in a suspended state waiting for something that didn’t come. And with defeat, she eased back, whispering forlornly, “I don’t know.”