Deneve opened her eyes. Confused, she glanced around the room and saw an old mage sitting in a chair at the side of the bed. He must have fallen asleep while reading. His open book was pressed against his torso as he slept. She could see the kitchen area on the other side of the bedroom. Deneve attempted to sit, but the action brought only pain.

She wondered what had happened that she was injured badly enough to be bedridden. She pulled mana around herself and cast a healing spell. Sighing in relief as the pain vanished, but she instantly recognized that basic magic took more out of her than usual.

Something else wasn’t right either. Deneve wasn’t alone.

It took you long enough to notice.

She remembered the spirit and the deal, but not much previous to that. It was all in the edges of her memory. Who was this mage?

He tried to save you and himself before you came to me.

That’s all you will tell me?

Your memories keep us attached; I can’t give too much away.

According to our deal, we need to find your home, correct?

Yes. Rest first. You have been through a lot. It would be bad if you died before getting enough power to get me home.

Her stomach growled hungrily. Deneve moved to sit on the side of the bed, unintentionally waking the sleeping mage. “You’re finally awake.” He said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I should have waited to cast that healing spell,” Deneve admitted wryly.

“Drained yourself, did you?” The old mage smirked. “No matter, we both need to regain our strength. I’ll make something to eat.”

“I should help,” Deneve said. She felt as if the mage had done enough taking care of her.

“You will probably not be strong enough to stand,” He said gruffly.

“I should at least try.“ Deneve rose and stumbled forward. The old mage moved faster than his appearance would suggest, stepping closer to catch her. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he led her to the kitchen table. “Thank you,” Deneve said graciously as she sat.

The mage shrugged as he moved briskly around the tiny kitchen area, preparing food.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but… who are you?” she asked, glancing up at the mage curiously.

“You don’t remember?” The mage said, giving her a stern glance as if searching for duplicity. Seeing none, his face relaxed.

“The spirit I established a deal with took my memories,” she explained. “It left me with the knowledge to use my skills and remember the contract. I can read and write and cast magic, but there are many holes in my memory. ”

“So that was his price. I see. You may call me Redrick.” He said.

“Can you tell me how I got here? Where are we? Why are you taking care of me?” Deneve asked. She wrinkled her brow in annoyed frustration at herself for being so helpless.

“I don’t know how we got here. We are currently residing in a town called Tariff in the country of Mediah. The villagers found us and brought us here. I recovered more quickly, so I’ve been taking care of you.” He explained.

“So, what do you know about the town and the country?” She asked.

“Not much,” Redrick answered. “I haven’t left the house that much. Been trying to regain my strength.”

“I should have figured,” Deneve said.

“Here, let’s eat,” Redrick offered, handing Deneve a plate. She took the plate, giving her thanks as he sat in the other chair. They ate in comfortable silence.

The light clank of flatware was the only sound. Deneve wondered if this felt awkward to Redrick. If so, he made no sign of it. When he asked if she was still hungry, she shook her head. More than anything, she was fatigued.

Deneve attempted to walk back to the bed without help, but before she could barely wobble, Redrick assisted with an arm around her waist supporting her. “Thank you.“ She said kindly as she settled back into the bed. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The mage shrugged as he moved briskly around the tiny kitchen area, preparing food.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but… who are you?” she asked, glancing up at the mage curiously.

“You don’t remember?” The mage said, giving her a stern glance as if searching for duplicity. Seeing none, his face relaxed.

“The spirit I established a deal with took my memories,” she explained. “It left me with the knowledge to use my skills and remember the contract. I can read and write and cast magic, but there are many holes in my memory. ”

“So that was his price. I see. You may call me Redrick.” He said.

“Can you tell me how I got here? Where are we? Why are you taking care of me?” Deneve asked. She wrinkled her brow in annoyed frustration at herself for being so helpless.

“I don’t know how we got here. We are currently residing in a town called Tariff in the country of Mediah. The villagers found us and brought us here. I recovered more quickly, so I’ve been taking care of you.” He explained.

“So, what do you know about the town and the country?” She asked.

“Not much,” Redrick answered. “I haven’t left the house that much. Been trying to regain my strength.”

“I should have figured,” Deneve said.

“Here, let’s eat,” Redrick offered, handing Deneve a plate. She took the plate, giving her thanks as he sat in the other chair. They ate in comfortable silence.

The light clank of flatware was the only sound. Deneve wondered if this felt awkward to Redrick. If so, he made no sign of it. When he asked if she was still hungry, she shook her head. More than anything, she was fatigued.

Deneve attempted to walk back to the bed without help, but before she could barely wobble, Redrick assisted with an arm around her waist supporting her. “Thank you.“ She said kindly as she settled back into the bed. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.