Amnesia or Something Bigger? (1)

January 14th, 1941 (Part 1)

"Ines, did you finish your assignment?"

"Huh?"

Charlotte leaned back in her chair, her face was dark with exhaustion. "Consul Amadeus is collecting it by tonight—your assignment, remember?"

"Oh," Ines simply said. "Yes, well, of course, I'll get it done now."

"…"

Silence ensued.

Once in a while, the two girls would halt their movements, stop writing, and sigh in exasperation.

Finally, Charlotte broke the silence.

"Where did you go that morning?"

Ines paused. "What do you mean?"

"I was penalized because of you—you didn't show up to the noontime attendance, Ines. Where did you go that morning?

"…" Ines remained silent and continued writing.

"You didn't say anything that night when you returned to the dorms, nor did you show up to lunch or supper."

"…"

"Ines? Ines? Are you even listening to me?"

"…"

"Heavens, just say something already! After that, you didn't speak for days—I'm worried for you, don't you understand?"

Ines continued writing as if she were unphased despite how her hands trembled.

"When did you, when did you even-" Charlotte stood up from her seat and quickly paced towards Ines. Picking up a bright emerald green journal from Ines' nightstand, she waved it in front of the younger girl's face.

"-When did you learn how to read? Or write, for that matter? Didn't you say you were from Keinshelm? If you were, how did you miraculously learn the entire Lindel dialect in a matter of hours? You weren't so fluent just a couple of days ago when we first spoke."

"…They're similar-"

"Ines! Those two languages have no similarities! Heavens, don't you tell me that you learned them quickly because they share similar accents and use similar letters. On top of that, since when were you close with Odette either?"

Ines stopped writing.

"Will you just look at me? What happened? You know that I'm not mad about being penalized, that's the least of my worries, so just- just look at me, and speak!"

With a huff, Charlotte exhaled and threw herself onto her bed.

"…-thing," Ines murmured.

"What? Repeat that, what did you say?" Charlotte said, sitting up from where she lay.

"Nothing! Nothing happened—I don't know, okay? Is that good enough of an answer for you?"

"…You don't know?"

Ines put down her pen and finally turned to face the older girl.

Her face which she had hidden away from the light was now illuminated by the burning candle wick that sat on her desk.

"Y-" Charlotte froze, her words stuck in her throat.

The younger girl's eyes were terribly bloodshot and yellow as if she had not slept for days, and her hair was matted onto her head as if she hadn't showered in days either.

Her complexion was terribly flaxen, and her lips looked thoroughly chewed and bitten.

"I'm tired. I don't remember, alright?" Ines said.

"…Have you rested at all?"

"Do I look like I have?" Ines fired back, half-sarcastically.

"Well, no," Charlotte said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ines took a deep breath and exhaled. Running her hands through her hair, she knocked on her skull a couple of times without breaking eye contact with Charlotte.

"I don't remember a lot of things, Charlotte. It's like there's a tear in my memory—a vortex that clouds my thinking and replaces all the bad memories," Ines confessed. "What should I do?"

"…Have you spoken to Madam Clèmence about this? Surely she would be of assistance-"

"No."

"…No? But why? You didn't seem to dislike her before, you even said she was rather pretty—no, beautiful."

"I did," Ines said. "I… But I don't feel comfortable around her sometimes when I- when my head is clouded."

"Why?" Charlotte asked.

Ines loudly groaned and sunk into her seat.

"That's the thing, I don't know why! I just… I just don't know. I'm me, but I know nothing about myself. This memory thing is starting to become really annoying, and it's only gotten worse since I arrived here."

"Oh Ines, then-" Charlotte froze as she registered the latter half of the younger girl's words. "What do you mean? So this has happened before? It's a recurring thing?"

"…" Ines averted her eyes.

"Ines?"

"…Yes," She said plainly. "Some days I really feel like a stranger in my own skin. I wake up and I'm somebody else with no memories of what happened prior; funny, isn't it?"

"…"

Charlotte sat on her bed speechless. One hand held up midair grabbing for nothing, and the other clutching onto her bedsheet.

"Thanks for listening, Charlotte." Ines got up from her seat and cleaned up her desk, she picked up the papers she had been writing moments prior.

"Wait- wait, where are you going? Are you sure that you're, you know-" Charlotte waved around her arms worriedly, "-okay? If you need to get anything off your chest, I can listen so-"

"It's fine! I'm fine!" Ines interrupted. "Maybe another day. I need to see Consul Amadeus—don't wait for me, I'm not hungry for supper tonight."

Charlotte quickly scrambled out of her bed, however before she could chase after the younger girl, her lace skirt caught onto the edge of her wooden bed.

"Ines, wait up—!"

With that said, Ines quickly paced towards the door and left without looking back.

"Have a good evening, Charlotte."

The door shut behind her as Ines left, her footsteps gradually fading into the background.

—

Half sitting and squatting next to her bedpost, Charlotte stared at her new skirt that she had torn and the door.

Wasn't Ines afraid of Consul Amadeus? So what was her deal now? Suddenly, after that day, she began warming up to the older woman.

All of a sudden, those two became "good buddies."

What's more, how did Ines place above her in the apprentice exam?

Born from a branch of a high-class nobility family, even as an "illegitimate child," Charlotte was bound to be more knowledgeable than the other children there—especially someone like Ines who looked like a street urchin (and was probably one).

However, she had somehow ranked below the said street urchin and Noémie of all people.

Flicking her fingers, Charlotte assessed the tipping golden scale before her.

"Why do I bother?" She murmured to herself.

Standing back up, Charlotte patted the dust off her stockings and her skirt.

Her luck had run dry as of recently, and that idiotic little under-the-table fight she had with Eugene only spurred her well-of-luck to dry even faster.

It was about time she found her next source of energy, Charlotte smiled.

However, as she was about to leave their dormitory, Charlotte nearly rolled over and tripped over her own feet.

"What in the world did I step on?" She muttered to herself, cocking her head sideways to look at whatever she had stepped on.

Laid bare on the floor was the emerald-green journal Charlotte had held up to Ines' face before.

Bending over to pick up the journal, Charlotte was about to put it back when shock exploded throughout her veins as she read the words on the pages.

"What the hell is this?"