Elemental by Ysilme

Part one: Sea - Memory

Sea

He was woken by the cries of gulls. Some mornings, it was gulls; some mornings, just the sea. He lay still, eyes closed, listening. Waves were rolling up the beach, gently moving the pebbles with a soft, swishing, sound. A familiar sound, like - music? He was not sure. He remembered music - but there was also so much he had forgotten, and sometimes, he could not tell if he remembered correctly. The waves evoked another memory, of somebody floating in the water, long hair streaming behind, unfathomable eyes the colour of the sea. Sounds, like the swishing pebbles, the waves, the wind. A voice, barely distinguishable from the sound of water, joining him in song. A voice he had known since he was small. He remembered listening to it on another beach and, later, on The Day of The Blood. But that memory would not come.

He opened his eyes, following the gull sailing across above him. It was early still, the sun sending her first rays over the horizon, and the air was fresh and cool. The sky was painted in colours both soft and so beautiful that it hurt, but he thought it was a good kind of pain, a pain that kindled something in him, some urge. But he could not remember what this was either. With a sigh, he sat up, wondering distinctly why he did not remember so many things. At least, by now, he did remember some.

Before, there had been just a grey fog. By and by, he became aware that there was fog, and then the fog went away, gradually, returning memories to him. Memories and sensations. Hunger, thirst, tiredness, cold, warmth. His sense of self, of being a person. The passing of time, day and night. He slept when it was dark, and walked when the day came, found water to drink and food to eat. Not much food, though; he found he could not bear to eat anything that had lived, and there was not much else. Moss, seeds, a few berries or mushrooms, but mostly seaweed and bark. He remembered roots and broke himself a stick to dig for them. He found and egg and ate it, but then he remembered that they were alive as well, and was sick.

He wondered why he would not eat living things, and then another memory came. Maglor. He was Maglor. He had not thought about his name, or any other, not since Before. It had not been important. Remembering who he was brought more memories, of pain and blood and guilt, and for a while, he went back into the fog because he could not bear it.

oOo