Dashyl's Quest

Dashyl had lost track of how long he had been with the curics from Sanctum. He lost count of how many times the moons had spun through their cycles over the courtyard outside his window at night. Once Fretly arrived, the time went much quicker. He didn’t now much about his new companion other than that he was older and from a place far away, judging from the way he talked. The two would play and partake in athletic contests to strengthen themselves. 

Every so often, Dashyl would ask, just to see if something had changed, “So you remember nothing but waking up here?”

“Nothing. It was like I was born here,” Fretly would say and shrug his shoulders.

Once Dashyl’s physical therapy ended, his mental therapy began. The curics would interview him about his life, his memories. He didn’t want to give away too much. He had let too much slip in telling them about his father. During long interviews, different curics would ask him about his childhood in Katena, in the Legion lands. The boy could tell they were fishing for something, a location, perhaps. Dashyl only talked about his schooling and never discussed his home life or interactions with his father.

When Dashyl would ask the curics why they were so curious about him, they would say it was for his mental health, to help his lost memories return. But when he would ask who was running the place or who was so interested in seeing him get better, the healers only deflected the question, saying simply that they were devoted to healing and nothing else, that they were compelled to do this by no one. Dashyl wanted to believe their smiling, robed faces. Eventually, the sessions of questioning stopped. Soon after, he began not to worry about anything and started to enjoy himself.