Severino sits by the fire, his brow furrowed as he stares into the flames, the heat licking at his face. He feels... empty. A dull ache pulses in his chest, like something vital has been torn away, yet he can't place what. Memories of Adelfa flicker faintly: her gentle smile, the way she pulled him to safety when she found him wandering lost in the woods, her voice trembling with relief as she held him close.

But everything else—why he was in the forest, what task he was meant to complete—is a blur.

Across the fire, Adelfa watches him with a heavy heart. She's waited days since she found him, hoping his memories would return, but while he recognizes her, something essential is missing. He remembers nothing of Narra, of his mission, nor of the years he spent under her spell. The dagger he had painstakingly forged to free them all lies forgotten.

"Severino?" Adelfa says softly, breaking the silence.

"Hmm..." Severino replied.

"You finally responded, thank goodness. I've been searching for you here for years, coming back and forth countless times. I'm just so grateful I finally found you. Are you alright? Feeling any better? Have you encountered the diwata... Narra?" She asked.

He blinks, pulling his gaze from the fire to meet her eyes. "I... I'm not sure," he answers distantly. "I remember leaving, feeling I had to do something important... but I can't recall what."

Adelfa's heart sinks, her suspicions confirmed: Narra has wiped his memory clean. The Babaylans warned her this could happen—that the diwata would go to any length to keep Severino, even if it meant shattering his mind. Anger churns within Adelfa, barely contained beneath her calm exterior.

"Narra," she whispers, her gaze hardening. That cunning diwata held Severino captive, binding him within her enchantments for years. With guidance from the Babaylans, Adelfa ventured into Narra's enchanted forest repeatedly, never glimpsing Narra or any supernatural presence, yet determined to continue her search. Severino had been missing for years, and fear of the worst gnawed at her, but she refused to abandon hope. Then, one night, she finally saw him, drifting aimlessly through the woods, his movements distant and trance-like.

Now, he sits before her, broken and lost. He can't even remember the threat he was meant to face.

Hoping to ease his sorrow, Adelfa attempts to update Severino on events in the village during his absence. The storm had subsided, the village chief welcomed his first child, and the head Babaylan had vanished under mysterious circumstances. Yet Severino appears unfazed, as if the words slip past him.

"I... failed, didn't I?" Severino's voice breaks. His haunted eyes meet hers, shadows of sadness flickering within. "I feel like I failed..."

Adelfa moves to his side, kneeling beside him and taking his hands gently. "You didn't fail, Severino. You were... trapped. Narra did this to you. She made you forget."

Severino's brow furrows, and his face scrunches up as he tries to grasp her words, but no clarity comes. "Narra..." he repeats, the name foreign on his tongue. "I don't... know who that is."

Adelfa's heart aches at the sight of him struggling. She knows she must tell him the truth, but how can she convey the horrors he has endured? How can she explain that he was a prisoner, that Narra used him, twisted his memories?

"She's why you went into the forest," Adelfa says, her voice steady. "The chief sent you to stop her—the storms, remember? The floods that nearly destroyed our village."

Severino's eyes widen slightly, but no recognition lights his face. "I remember the storms... But Narra... I don't remember her."

"She's the reason you've forgotten," Adelfa says, squeezing his hands tighter. "She's a powerful diwata, Severino. She held you captive for years."

"For years?" he whispers, voice wavering under the weight of her revelation. "But... it doesn't feel like I've been gone that long."

Adelfa's voice chokes with emotion. "You haven't aged a day. She kept you frozen in time. But I found you. I brought you back."

Severino's face twists in confusion. "How could I forget... years of my life? How could I forget something so important?"

Adelfa lifts her hand to gently cup his face. "Narra's magic is powerful. She made you forget for a reason, Severino. She didn't want you to remember what she did to you—or the mission you were supposed to complete."

Severino pulls away, rubbing his temples in frustration. "But if I can't remember, how can I finish it? How can I stop her?"

Adelfa's heart feels heavy. Without Severino's memories, they have no way to confront Narra. The Babaylans had told her that Severino held the key—a mysterious diwata had informed them years ago that Severino was crafting something capable of defeating Narra. But without his memories, that key is lost.

"We'll figure it out," Adelfa says, determined. "We'll go back to the Babaylans. They may be able to help you remember."

Severino shakes his head, his fists clenching. "What if I don't want to remember?" His voice is raw, fearful. "What if I can't bear knowing what happened?"

Adelfa's breath catches, taken aback. She sees the fear in his eyes—the terror of facing what he might have suffered at Narra's hands.

"Then I won't push you," Adelfa says, her voice gentle. "What matters is that you're here with me now, and you're safe." She presses a reassuring kiss to his lips. "For now, the storm has halted. We'll find a way to end Narra's reign soon enough, I'm sure we will."

His gaze softens as he looks at her, and she meets it with a warm smile. "I love you, Severino."

By the warmth of the fire, Adelfa rests her head on Severino's chest, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath her. She closes her eyes, breathing in his scent, grounding herself in his presence. Severino, feeling his sorrow begin to lift, gently cups her cheek, guiding her gaze to meet his. Leaning in, he whispers, "I love you," his voice barely audible but filled with depth. He captures her lips in a kiss, and she responds, their kiss deepening, each moment charged with the emotions of their reunion.

In the gentle moonlight filtering through the trees, they find themselves lost in each other, slowly shedding the layers that had kept them apart for so long. His hands trace over her skin, leaving marks that linger, symbols of their shared longing. The quiet forest fills with their soft breaths and hushed moans, mingling with the sound of crickets, as they move together in a shared rhythm, completely absorbed in one another.