“So, you don’t remember… anything?”

“… Like what?”

Those were the first few words she shared with Pan in the wake of her epiphany, and just as quickly as the conversation was struck, it was snuffed out into echoing silence. Only the crackling flames and the distant hum of the forest filled the space between them. Now and again, she heard Pan shuffle from one position to the next as if they couldn’t stay still long enough to grow comfortable or weren’t comfortable at all. Knowing their discomfort was likely borne out of her inability to remember anything, she considered speaking, but no comforting words came to mind. Her voice stuck to the back of her throat like the dry, itchy gown clinging to her legs.

When conversation proved to be a fruitless endeavor, she lowered her gaze and plucked at the gown’s stiff edges with her left hand. Her right fisted around the lukewarm stone still pressed into the center of her palm. In place of answers, questions spring to the forefront of her mind. She wondered why it was that Pan was here. If no one had come across her before that tiny light roused her from a dream, then what matters would Pan have with this lake or her for that matter. Their earlier explanation flitted around her head, and she wondered who these folk in town were.

Haven’t they been strangely quiet?

She glanced out the corner of her eye, and her gaze immediately met Pan’s. They were the first to look toward the fire, and she averted her gaze as well. Somehow, the silence felt oppressive.

Alright, breathe. Look around and think.

She breathed in, pulling her knees to her chest as she studied the dark soil smeared between her toes, then flicked a glance up to the trees lining the grassy lakeside. Their canopies fit to busting with verdant green leaves, glistened gold as sunlight weaved over spiny tops much taller than she noticed when wading through the lake water.

Trying to glimpse past them rewarded her only with a faint sliver of blue skies and distant grayish-black treetops growing harder to discern the further she tried to peer. In the end, she didn’t want to look foolish by falling over, so she returned to sitting upright with her left arm wrapped around her legs. There was a place beyond this. Pan’s words were evidence enough of that. But what that place held and who would be there, she didn’t know. This Lady of the Lake didn’t sound like a name but an alias of sorts. Did someone there know her or…

“Well!” She startled at the sudden sound of Pan’s voice. It was a little loud, like a shout, and she cast an irate glance in their direction. They ducked their chin a little at her gaze and cheekily muttered, “This limits the number of things I can ask about you….”

Annoyance at their words aside, it was the void of answers for herself that rattled her more. “Sorry to ruin your fun,” she huffed with bitterness coating every word so thoroughly that even Pan winced as if they’d bitten into something sour.

Pan curved one hand against the side of their neck as they fumbled for words. “N-Now hang on, I didn’t mean it like that..”

Reticently she might have agreed or admonished herself for being crossed with them yet again. No matter how insensitive their words had been, she was sure those words were meant to invoke some sort of laughter or cheer. However, faced with the reality before her, she felt little joy. Only a cold deep within her bones threatened to hollow her out if she lingered in it for too long.

“… Is it getting a little cool?”

She almost hadn’t heard Pan’s voice with how soft it was, barely above a whisper but floating toward her ears with a deceptively airy pitch. Warily, she looked at them from the corner of her eye as they gestured to her right hand. Then offered their own with an upturned palm.

“May I?”

For a moment, she studied the dirt streaking from the heel of their hand to their palm. Her gaze lingered on the raised skin at the base of their fingers. When it didn’t seem as Pan was going to do anything without her consent, she dropped the stone in their hand. Pan’s expression immediately showed relief, curls tumbling in their eyes as they bobbed their head in thanks then withdrew. She rubbed the back of her right hand, sorely missing the small thing’s warmth as she waited for them to finish what they were going to. Thankfully, Pan’s movements were swift as they gathered their hands around the stone then pressed their thumbs into the moss, dragging them across the dense green clumps in arching lines she couldn’t make sense of. She wasn’t keen enough on leaning in their space to find out either, jolting when they pulled back and preened down at the stone as if admiring their handiwork.

At last, and to her surprise, Pan lifted the stone up to their mouth and blew. Motes of light drifted into the open air, where they shone like tiny sparks, crackling and glowing as they rose higher above their heads. She watched them in awe, unable to look away as their twinkle ebbed with each passing second before they vanished from sight. Numbly, she held out her hand to accept the stone when Pan offered it. Renewed warmth pooled in her palm, webbing through her nerves as it traveled down her arm, leaving the skin flushed with heat.

She eyed the stone in confusion, turning it one way then the other. When she could find no signs of their drawing in the moss nor anything unusual, she felt a sense of wonder and questioned, “How did you…?”

It wasn’t until she glanced up that she noticed how intently Pan was watching her, still as a statue with their hands clasped to their bent knees. At her question and attention, they came to life. Crawling hand over knee to her though keeping a bit of space between them, finger pointed observingly at the rock’s surface.

“The moss has pieces of a fire shard growing in it,” they explained as she turned it over to check their claims. Focus narrowed down to the dense green clumps wherein the proper catch of the light, she noticed fragments of some sparkling red stone woven into the leaves. Beside her, Pan barreled on, “Won’t burst into flames or anything, but it can be a little finicky. So now and again, you have to recant the spell to make it heat. Like turning it off and back on again.”

“… Fire Shard,” she whispered. Her head turned to meet Pan’s joy-filled eyes. They seemed all the happier to have someone to share their musings with, and she was eager to know more about something she had… no idea of. Ignoring the sting of bitterness at the thought, she asked, “And a spell is what you did?”

Pan nodded. “Yep,” they chirped, pulling back to snatch up the stick they’d been using to poke at the fire. “Here, look.”

She pressed the stone to her chest and watched as Pan drew a series of sloping lines and interconnecting arches in the dirt between them. Occasionally, her eyes raised to observe their face. Thick brows knitted together over a slightly crooked nose, rounded at its dirt-smudged tip. Their tongue poked out the side of their mouth until they finished, lips parting. “The sign looks a little like this.”

They looked up, and she dropped her gaze, eyes running over the still earth. No motes of light arose, and she couldn’t feel the warmth as she brushed her fingertips delicately over the arches.

“Nothing is happening.”

“Well, yeah…” Pan snorted, tapping the stick against their chest. When she tossed them a warning look, they cleared their throat then rubbed the back of their neck. “I didn’t put any of my mana into it, and the ground is a little soaked since you were….”

She looked down at the puddle of water she’d left. Sunlight had done much to dry it, but there was still a nail’s height of water standing in the shiny, green grass limply carrying what droplets it could from her passing. In this, she would at least concede to them their point. Her eyes fell to the stone in her hand, then her own clothes. She counted herself twice foolish for thinking so little of it before. How odd that such a small thing could make her feel so content.

“Mana is what you used to make the sign work,” she said to Pan. Then with a sidelong glance at their drawn sign, she tried tracing the arches and lines on the stone’s soft, springy moss. “And the sign is necessary for the stone to….”

“Turn off and on!” Pan finished, their voice hitched with excitement. Nothing happened much to her expectations, but she paused at the light dancing in their eyes as their gaze locked. “You catch on fast.”

She felt her cheeks warm, fingers brushed against the back of her right hand as she nodded her thanks then turned back to the fire. The air around them seemed a little lighter, and as ridiculous as it was, she would daresay, warmer too. As they settled into silence once more, she didn’t feel as if the weight of it would come crashing down upon her head. Her mind was filled with thoughts of spells and signs, tracing the arches and lines in her mind over and over.

After a moment, Pan cleared their throat awkwardly. “… If you have any other questions….”

“I have plenty….” She interjected pointedly, trailing off when she realized how their shoulders knotted, and eyes dropped to their lap. Voice willed to soften with an unspoken apology, she thought on all they’d said then murmured, “… You called it ‘Lake Mnemoyse’….”

“That I did..” Pan poked at the fire, avoiding her gaze as they moved a few pieces of wood around to let it continue burning, then tossed their stick in. “That’s what some of the townsfolk call it too.”

Those words again. Her mind made the connection as well as the elatedness in her heart. “What town?” She asked breathlessly at the end of the last syllable to leave Pan’s mouth.

They looked at her then, curious and a bit amused. She felt her face warm with embarrassment at the eagerness that must have shown. They didn’t say anything, though, only tipping their head off toward the woods. “Galdre, not but a trek from here….” Their eyes rolled up to the sky. Airily murmuring, “Wouldn’t even take up much daylight….”

Then with a hesitancy she hadn’t expected, they asked, “You thinking of going there?”

“Possibly,” she said. Their head bobbed in a slow nod as if they were accepting what she said or simply acceding to it. She didn’t want to tell them about her nervousness at the thought of people when they were already showing signs of reluctance. However, as much as she felt nervous, she wanted to see someone. Anyone who may know about her to fill the void in her head. Looking back to the lake, she recognized that it wouldn’t be in her best interest to remain here any longer either. “What else do they call it?”

Pan hummed curiously in response.

“Lake Mnemoyse,” she emphasized, turning back to them.

A second passed, but it was enough for her to see a wealth of emotion cross Pan’s face. They winced when she called their name, blunt teeth worrying at their bottom lip until they released it with a mumble she couldn’t quite catch. Solemnly, they looked toward her and spoke in a faltering voice.

“… The Lake of Memory.”