Chương 122: Gaps

Vera rested her head against the palm of one hand while the other dragged a pen across dry parchment, then stopped. She stared down at the open journal for a few seconds before flipping back through everything she'd written so far. She was in a chamber that was probably meant for meetings or something of the sort. A long stone table occupied most of it, surrounded by a collection of high-backed chairs, with several narrow benches pushed against the walls.

Emberlights burned behind frosted panels, filling the room with a steady amber glow, and several narrow windows overlooked one of the Sanctum's inner courtyards. Vera had claimed a smaller desk crammed into the corner. It had already been cluttered with ledgers and folded papers when she arrived, but she'd pushed most of those into a leaning pile at one end. As she wrote in the journal, one of the ledgers on top shifted, slid over the edge, and landed on the floor with a heavy thud.

Vera didn't bother picking it up. She was making a list of everything she could remember, trying to work out what was missing. Her father's name was the most obvious thing. That had gotten its own page, just because Vera had written down about every possible name she could think of in the hope that one of them would feel right. None of them had. No matter what she did, no matter what stupid tricks she tried, she couldn't find a way to force the memory loose. She had written down her mother's maiden name.

Her own name. She'd listed old addresses, birthdays, family vacations, the guitars she'd owned, and every argument with her father that she could remember clearly enough to put into words. Yet the space where his name should've been still felt like someone had cut a neat little hole out of her head. Vera stopped flipping through the journal. From what she had been able to tell, she'd also lost the names of at least two stuffed animals she'd owned as a kid.

It might have been more than that, but those were the two she could recall having without remembering much of anything about them. One had been some kind of rabbit. The other was pink. That was about all she'd managed to recover, which seemed pretty pathetic considering she was almost certain she'd slept with both of them for years. There had even been one or two password-recovery questions built around their names. There were also people from school who were missing.

Vera had never been especially good at remembering the names of classmates she didn't talk to, so that category was somewhat difficult to judge. But she could still picture the school itself. The classrooms, the cafeteria, and that ugly yellow hallway outside the gym. And when she tried filling those places with people, half the faces came out blank. She still had lots of memories from back then.

She knew some of the people who'd been sitting in the chairs around her, and she remembered conversations and all the tiny annoyances. There simply wasn't always a person attached to each recollection. It was kind of scary. Vera turned to the last page in the journal, staring at it. Another gap came to mind. She drew a line beneath the last entry and added a note. College smoothie recipes. That was another uncertain one. She remembered getting really into smoothies for a while during her studies.

Not because she'd been particularly fond of them, really. Mostly just because her dad had given her a blender for her birthday and she'd needed to find something to use it for. There had been some green smoothie with spinach and way too much ginger. One involving mango and coconut milk. And some kind of protein nightmare she'd made exactly once and never attempted again. Did those count? She could actually remember most of the ingredients, though. It was just the look or taste that slipped her mind.

It could simply be because she hadn't thought about them in years. That was the problem. She stumbled across these gaps, but she had no way of knowing whether something missing was just natural forgetting. And those gaps that weren't natural were practically impossible to spot unless there was still enough left around them for her to notice. Her father's name had been obvious because she remembered basically everything else about her father. The stuffed animals had left pretty glaring holes.

As did the people from school. But if an entire memory was gone, what was she supposed to do? Remember forgetting it? Vera sighed and dropped her pen onto the page. She actually wished Mira were here. Mira could've gone through things with her. The woman had an absurd memory, and Vera had dumped enough random details about her life on her over the years that Mira might know more of the minor stuff than Vera's own mother did. She could've asked Vera about people and places she wouldn't think to check on her own.

Even if they only found more missing pieces, knowing how much she'd lost would've been better than sitting here wondering whether half her life had quietly disappeared. While Vera was lost in her thoughts, the door opened. She glanced up. Yria stepped into the chamber and closed the door behind her. The woman had cleaned up since Vera last saw her. The traces of blood from their bout had been washed from her face, and her hair was properly tied back.

Her usual coat was also missing, revealing sigil-scars similar to Vera's own running across most of her arms. The chains attached to her sword stood out clearly against the pale fabric of her shirt. She walked over and stopped beside the table at the center of the room, leaning back against it. Vera considered her for a moment, then lowered her gaze and returned to the journal. She turned to the newest section and added another half-remembered recipe.

Something with frozen mango, a bruised banana, and cheap amaretto. That one, at least, she was fairly sure had tasted awful. Movement caught at the edge of her vision. Yria was signing. Vera kept writing. The pen scratched slowly across the paper. Yria's hand continued moving, but Vera didn't bother looking up. Eventually, a quiet pressure settled against Vera's Resonance. What are you doing? Vera paused, the tip of her pen still resting against the page.

"Trying to figure out what's still rattling around in the ol' noggin," she said. The pressure lingered for a moment before fading. Yria pushed away from the table and came closer. She stopped beside the desk, her gaze dropping to the journal. Vera flipped it to an empty page and put down the pen. Yria's lips pressed into a thin line. Something complicated passed across her face, there and gone before Vera could make much sense of it, and then she took a step back. Vera studied her for a few seconds.

"How'd things go on their end?" she finally asked. Yria motioned. They are talking.

"Yeah?" Vera leaned back and rolled her neck until something gave a soft crack, then got started on her shoulders.

"Great, then." Things had taken a strange turn toward the end there. She and Roderic had come here to investigate suspicious activity within the Sanctum of Darnelle. Neither of them would really have been able to predict what they'd run into here, though. In one sense, though, it had come as a relief. There wasn't a Silent Lord lurking beneath the city or anything equally catastrophic. But that didn't mean there was nothing to worry about.

Still, the situation had somehow more or less resolved itself before it could turn into one final, dramatic battle. It had left Vera and Roderic in an awkward position, though, where it wasn't entirely clear whether they counted as intruders, enemies, or something else. They couldn't exactly ignore the whole 'apotheon' business and walk away as if none of it concerned them. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Frankly, Vera hadn't known what to do about that.

She wasn't even sure whether what Sancter Voss had been doing was illegal or prohibited in any meaningful sense. That was why she'd just left Roderic to handle the negotiations and familiarize himself with that side of things. Neither he nor Sancter Voss had seemed particularly excited about the arrangement, but there was clearly a conflict between the Covenant and the Sanctum of Darnelle that needed to be resolved, and they were the only real 'representatives' around.

With an outright fight no longer on the table—and both Vera and Yria settling into something closer to neutral positions—it was up to the two of them to decide whether they could reach some kind of agreement. Vera somehow doubted they would. As far as she understood Roderic's job, the best he could probably do was make sure whatever lines Sancter Voss had crossed didn't lead to a larger conflict between the Covenant and Darnelle.

Maybe he'd work out some under-the-table arrangement that left both sides only mildly pissed off at each other. Or maybe it wasn't as big of an issue as Vera thought. Really, what did she know? She could be misreading the entire situation. Either way, she wasn't particularly interested anymore. She had too much else on her mind, which was why she'd taken a time-out to go through things on her own and make sure her brain was still more or less in one piece.

As the silence stretched through the room, Vera finished rolling the stiffness out of her shoulders and watched Yria from the corner of her eye. Her attention drifted down to the sword at the woman's side. She'd noticed it earlier, but the Resonance coming off the thing felt far more aggressive than it had when they were traveling north together.

"What's up with that sword of yours?" she asked.

"What was it called? Witness?" Yria glanced down and touched her thumb to the sword's dull hilt. Vera was surprised by how hesitant the movement looked. There wasn't much in the gesture to justify the impression, but that was still how it felt. Maybe it came from the original Veralyth. After what Vera had just learned about Yria's memories, though, she was confused about the parts that had stuck around. After a moment, Yria signed. It's not acting much differently from usual.

"I somehow doubt that." Yria didn't respond. Vera studied her a little longer.

"So, about your plan for that apotheon thing," she said.

"You were intending to use it to replace Hollow's Chosen, weren't you? Or something along those lines?" Yria hadn't told her that outright, but Vera felt fairly sure of the conclusion. She knew Yria had been helping Sancter Voss for reasons of her own. Trying to create a pseudo-divine force using her own power wasn't something she would have done without a specific purpose, and what purpose would someone like Yria have? Yria frowned slightly.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied Vera, but eventually she lowered her head in a simple nod. Yes.

"Why?" You already know.

"You were that pissed about me being Chosen? Because you thought that was what was messing me up?" I was displeased that House Hollow could not resolve its own problems.

"But you know what the consequences might've been if it worked, don't you?" Vera couldn't say whether it was even possible to replace a Chosen using something like the apotheon. She doubted it, honestly. But she knew how badly things could go if it didn't work. I do not, Yria signed. Her gaze sharpened a notch. And neither do you, Vera, beyond guesses. You never tried to seriously find an alternative. Vera was quiet for a few seconds, then shrugged.

"I guess I didn't. But what would you have done if you accidentally triggered some world-ending cataclysm? Let things fall apart, or sacrifice yourself to fix whatever you caused? You were the one railing at me for being self-sacrificing, weren't you?" Yria shook her head. I had no intention of sacrificing myself. Then she glanced down. Vera followed her gaze to the sword.

"What, were you planning to use that somehow?" Yria's brow tightened, but eventually she nodded. Witness's fetters are fading. The Smokebound Covenant's power still lingers. I could probably use what remains.

"Hmm. Is that so?" Vera kept observing the sword, feeling increasingly annoyed without really being able to say why. Eventually, she decided to change the subject.

"You promised to explain things. Are you here for that?" Sancter Voss and Yria had already told her about the apotheon, the whole apotheosis thing, and most of the details surrounding what they'd been working on. Apparently, Yria had been collaborating with Sancter Voss for almost two years now. Vera wasn't personally all that miffed about what they had been working on. Even with the whole Chosen business.

It was just a little worrying when so many of the bosses in Ashen Legacy had been people who went crazy aspiring for godhood. Yria wasn't quite the same, but it was still worth keeping in mind. I'll share what I know, Yria signed. She walked over to the table, grabbed one of the high-backed chairs, and pulled it toward the desk. It had been carved from a solid block of granite and made a harsh scraping sound as it dragged across the floor, but Yria didn't seem to mind.

Vera raised both eyebrows, then leaned back in her own seat with her arms crossed as Yria sat beside her.

"Good. There's something I only just realized doesn't add up. How did you know to ask about my father's name?" It hadn't occurred to Vera at the time, but what were the chances Yria would just happen to land on the one thing Vera could easily confirm she'd forgotten? Yria mirrored Vera's crossed arms for a while, before freeing them both again to sign. You will probably find better answers in the Rellmark Tracts, just so you know.

"I'll get them there too. Right now I'm asking you." One of Yria's brows rose. Fine. You told me to ask that. Vera squinted at her.

"I did not." You did.

"No. I didn't." Yria stared. Runt, if you refuse to believe the answer, that's your problem.

"Then give me a believable one. And don't try to tell me I forgot, either. I can buy becoming an amnesiac after killing a mountain-devouring legendary monster, but I'm a hundred percent sure I didn't fight one between me beating you up and you suddenly getting all buddy-buddy with Number One." Yria's stare hardened. Stop being difficult. Vera folded her arms tighter.

"No." Yria let out a slow breath. Vera scoffed.

"Alright, fine. I get what you're saying. You and Number One were acting so weird when I reached the chamber because you'd already run into some other me, right?" Yria went still. Genuine surprise crossed her face. You knew? Vera shrugged.

"I figured." It had taken her a while to place why the strange Resonance coming from that chamber had felt so familiar. It wasn't quite like her own, but it was close enough to leave her with a persistent sense that the difference didn't matter. Funny thing was that she was pretty sure she'd encountered that Resonance before. That part still confused her, but it was also part of what had helped her form that lingering gut feeling.

"Do you know what it was?" Vera asked. Yria's focus seemed to shift inward for a moment. No. But she was connected to the identity you established.

"She told you that?" Yes.

"Huh. Okay." Vera had wondered whether it might actually have been the original Veralyth, but that didn't quite fit. If it had been, Yria's suddenly switching to treating Vera as the real one didn't make sense. Maybe it was some sort of specter or memory echo, like the Bound Witness under Hollowstone Table in Marrowfen.

"Is it fair to assume your work on the apotheon created her?" she asked. No. That doesn't appear to be the case. If anything, it only gave her a temporary vessel to manifest through.

"To manifest and do what? Did you do anything besides talk to her? What even happened to this supposed apotheon after? Did it just go poof?" Yes and no.

"…What kind of answer is that?" One corner of Yria's mouth shifted, almost forming a smile before flattening again. I'll show you later, once we are on our way to the Tracts. Vera frowned.

"Fine. But you're sure about coming with me?" I am. You are not going anywhere alone in your current state.

"That's not really your call. I was going either way. I still need to get back to Caer Virell and my kid." You'd be better off leaving the girl with Valecrest. Vera went still.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yria's hands dropped to her sides.

"No, go on. I'd love to hear this one." For a moment, the woman's fingers shifted as if she might answer. Then she seemed to think better of it and turned toward the windows instead. Vera scowled. She picked up her pen, realized she had nothing to write, and tossed it back onto the desk. Eventually, Yria looked at her again. You understand you and Valecrest don't blend, don't you?

"Because I might lose more memories?" Yes.

"I don't think that's enough reason to dump my daughter on Elaria and walk away." Then clearly, you do not understand. Vera hooked one arm over the back of her chair and leaned closer.

"What am I missing?" Yria held her gaze. After several long seconds, her Resonance settled over Vera, and it carried a harsh warning. You underestimate what it's like for the people close to you. Others never saw you at your worst. I did. It's a miracle that you have recovered this much of yourself, and you shouldn't squander it—but if you go back to them and start losing yourself again, you will only be crueler to the child and Valecrest. A heavy silence followed. Vera stared back at her.

Yria didn't look away this time. Finally, Vera leaned back in her seat.

"I'm still not doing it," she said. Fine. That was all Yria gave her. Vera watched the woman closely.

"…I mean a lot to you, don't I?" Yria's shoulders tightened, and she almost glared. Don't be a brat, she signed.

"You wouldn't have done all this otherwise." Vera waved vaguely between Yria, the sword at her side, and the Sanctum around them. Yria followed the gesture but didn't answer. Vera dragged a hand through her hair and left it resting against the back of her neck as she breathed out.

"I'm going to choose not to be mad about what you just said. But I'm also not abandoning Serel or Elaria." All I can do is warn you.

"I appreciate it." Yria gave her a doubtful look.

"Genuinely," Vera said.

"And I don't want to, trust me. You're an asshole." The glare returned.

"Anyway," she continued.

"I'm… sorry about earlier. Sort of." Earlier?

"The fight and all of that. I might've gone a little overboard." Some of the tension left Yria's shoulders. You usually do.

"You're saying you don't?" I said nothing.

"Yeah, sure." Vera rolled her eyes. A few seconds passed before Yria signed again. Let me remind you, by the way, that you lost. There was no 'beating me up,' as you implied. Vera gave her an incredulous look.

"You're going to get hung up on that?" It was untrue. You clearly lost.

"You fought a cripple. What do you want, a medal?" You admitting that you lost would do.

"Screw you." You're in no position to complain when you put yourself in that position.

"Yeah, well, guess who might have something to say about that? My fist up your—" Vera stopped before she finished that sentence, and Yria wore a thoroughly unimpressed expression. Vera cleared her throat, sank back in her chair even further, and let her hand fall to her side. Another silence settled between them.

"So…" Vera rubbed her thumb along the edge of the chair.

"Are we kind of cool for now? About the fight, I mean. And about you not calling me an idiot every time I do something?" Yria appeared to consider the question. I won't hold what you have forgotten against who you are now.

"That sounds promising." My stance on your self-sacrificing tendencies, and many of your other choices, has not changed. You will always be an idiot for accepting the nightmares and everything House Hollow has inflicted upon you simply because you believe being Chosen makes it necessary. And if I can, I'll still take that role away from you. A faint spark of irritation stirred through Vera.

"Well, I think you're an idiot too. So there." Yria looked at her. Then, to Vera's surprise, she smiled. It wasn't much—just a slight curl at the corner of her mouth, gone almost as soon as it appeared. Still, it pulled a quiet chuckle out of Vera. Yria glanced down at the journal one last time, then stood and shoved the granite chair back. Its legs scraped horribly across the floor. When are we leaving for the Rellmark Tracts? You'll be slow like this, but with me there, we should still make it in a week or two.

Vera hesitated, then shook her head.

"Actually, I think I already secured us a ride." Yria paused. On what?

"Well…" Vera tilted her head.

"I don't actually know yet. But I'm sure it'll be interesting."