Chapter 1: DISORIENTED
I woke up with a throbbing headache and a bloody nose. From the pool on the floor, I must have been at it for a while. A string of words enter my ears and I could swear they felt familiar but for the life of me, I couldn't attach meaning to the sounds. I smile at the rather well built old man looking at me with an upraising eye, perhaps waiting for my response. It's a subconscious tick, not wanting to show weakness before comprehending my situation. The smile was meant to dispel any concerns he may have had. It must have worked, for he looked away giving me time to take stock of my condition.
Other than the throbbing headache, I seemed to be in relative good health. A bit on the skinny side but looking at the blood pool, I wouldn't complain too much about it, I apparently had a generous supply of the fluid. My memory on the other hand left much to be desired.
[I'm pretty sure this is cause for worry] I tolerate a silent sigh. I was too confused to truly understand what this might mean for my situation.
A jolt pulled me from my introspection causing me to focus on my surroundings. After a couple of seconds staring, It hit me that I understood the concept behind "tallying" but "counting" as a skill was not in my repertoire. frustration welled up in me, so I closed my eyes and regulated my breathing, seeking composure. I put the little information gathered into perspective. Anything memory based was lost: language, arithmetic and my biography, hopefully temporarily. As far as physical health went though, I was built for slavery. I understood concepts, but failed to have a library of words to attach to them as identifiers. The concept of "slavery" was well understood, but I didn't have the word for it.
I looked back up and realized I was in a carriage, on rough ground, being pulled by a pair of skinny horses.
[I might actually be a slave.]
The sentiment is understood, sending up another bolt of anxiety yet I suppress the panic attack. In my palm, a batch of leaves were still tightly clenched. I considered them for minute before ripping a part of my shirt to bind them.
[I had a firm grip on them when I woke up, so they should be important…but they weren't pried from me when I was out cold so I'm probably the only one that knows why they are of any value, …well I suppose only the gods know why now. In any case, I can always throw them out should they prove to be useless.]
The top of the carriage was covered, protecting the occupants from the elements and for that, I was grateful. The road was not well maintained so I gathered we were probably still ways off from our destination. Thick lush vegetation and tall trees, high humidity, so tropical, I guessed.
With nothing else to see, I tried getting some sleep in hopes of dreaming of anything that may jolt my memory as well as stop the throbbing pain in my head, I knew I was grasping at straws but when I couldn't even hold a conversation, anything went. As I waited for sleep to take over, strings of words from the occupants kept drilling their way in me, I could feel the meaning behind them trying to creep from within. like frosted glass, the silhouette equivalent could be felt. The longer I listened, the more the frost layers peeled. I fell asleep agitated only to have a dream with frosted faces.
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[On the bright side, at least my headache cleared up]
"Rejected by death, sucks to be you, buddy".
I turned at the meaningful sound, almost brought to tears until comprehension followed, prompting a scandalized look from me. The woman chuckled. I inspected my memories by forming coherent thought and this time, the concepts had been indexed. I now had the word for "slavery". Relief flooded my organs subconsciously noting that I find the language strange.
[… the language feels strange, yet familiar nonetheless…hmm, im being paranoid, but that mention of suicide is a scary thought]
"…only thing I got for my troubles are lost memories" I said after a periodic delay.
"How much did you forget?" The muscular old man asked.
"Might be easier answering how much I remember. Could you tell me how many people are in the carriage with us?… and also why I tried to kill myself " incredulity slightly leaking in my tone.
The eyes of a teenage girl next to me narrowed, probably trying to spy any indication that I might be lying.
"Bleed and bury me, Memory wipe AND personality improvements, thanks for the practical lesson, big man, now I'm never doing drugs. Usually you just glare at everyone and grumble like an old man." she said.
Ignoring the girl, the old man picked up from where she left off, "There are 7 in the carriage, but only the 4 of us speak the same tongue." I felt a cool sensation permeate my brain, like a part of it was initially frozen and only now could I feel the release. Arithmetic as a skill was no longer so foreign to me.
"As for killing yourself, sonny, you never talked to us before so that's for you to figure out all on your lonesome."
I fell silent and went back to chip at my memories.
[…my language and arithmetic skills were remembered separately after I was exposed to them. The reason for trying to kill myself may also follow the same pattern.]
There were 2 women seemingly in their mid twenties, a teenage girl, 2 men also seemingly in their mid twenties and a rather well built old man. Both men and one of the women spoke different languages. Little conversation was held by the party, so I chose to observe them preferably till sunrise the following day.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Evening came by eventually, a crude imitation of camp was set up by the carriage driver. "So we aren't slaves…?" I asked the teenage girl seated beside me on the log by the fire, she smiled "Well, big man, no. We are just travelers with the same destination. Slavery of men was outlawed a hundred years ago"
"…I can see why you'd think that, from a foreigner's perspective, this is not the way free men travel. Worry not, I hear the capital has better infrastructure. Roads wide enough for three carriages to travel side by side, buildings rising ten stories and population in the hundreds of thousands." the woman from earlier said as she slid onto her log opposite the fire place with her meal in hand.
"Why are you heading to the capital?" I asked, bold in my inquiry since they didn't seem to mind talking to me.
"School, Engineering. I'll force my way in if I have to." the teenage girl said, unbridle desire leaking in her tone. There was a story there but I figured she'd have said more if she wanted to. I turned to the woman sitting across from us, without looking up she said "Money! Trade, building an enterprise that shames entire dukedoms income."
After sunset, the old man joined us, done with setting up our tents for us. "Thanks for the tents, Bitrus". The teenage girl said.
"What are your names by the way?" I asked.
"Well child, I'm Bitrus, means stone." The old man said, picking up his meal, not minding introducing himself so late in our interaction.
"I'm Hadiza, big man. One with no desire, Ironic I know." said the teenage girl. I smiled at that. [people's names can be so misleading.]
"…and I'm Ola. means wealth". The woman opposite to me said.
[…and at times those who name us leave us questioning their divinity.]
"…I don't seem to remember my name, feel free to use whatever seems to fit until I remember." I said. "How about Chima. Only 'god knows' your actual name now." Hadiza said amidst mouthfuls.
[well I suppose any name should be fine for now]
I nodded at that. To our right the two men held their conversation in a reserved manner but I could still pick up the unique sounds. At a certain point, the sounds started to feel like words then the feeling slowly morphed into a sensation of slow defrosting within the central part of my mind.
Meal time ended pretty fast. The carriage driver said we still had about 5 more days before we got to the capital so we had to rest up early to be on schedule. I fell asleep while wrestling with my thoughts, something felt off and I couldn't put my finger on exactly what. Everything seemed so mundanely normal yet so off putting. That and the noise the mosquitos made only fueled my irritation.