Chapter 10 – Memories of Love

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Love…

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Baloria’s touch was warm, and as her hand rested on my forehead, a strange, gentle pull swept through me. The shadow of the oak tree disappeared, the fields dissolving like mist, and in their place… I saw a village.

I watched in silence as the scene unfolded, my heart aching with an unfamiliar warmth. Baloria’s presence lingered beside me, quiet for once, her usually sharp gaze softened as she observed what I saw.

A beautiful, sprawling village surrounded by hills, bathed in a golden glow. The image of a small, humble home materialized a cozy cottage with wooden beams and a stone chimney, nestled among gentle hills and trees that stretched toward a bright, open sky. And inside, the sound of soft, delighted laughter.

“Look,” Baloria murmured, and the vision sharpened, focusing on a man cradling a tiny, newborn bundle in his arms. I felt a strange pull as I recognized myself in that child a small, pink-cheeked boy with a curious gaze that was met by the man holding me.

“That’s… that’s me?” My voice, though unheard, seemed to echo in this strange space.

Beside me, Baloria watched with an unreadable expression, crimson eyes following every flicker of memory. “Yes,” she murmured, almost to herself. “This is where you began in this world.”

The man’s face was aglow, his expression one of pure wonder as he held his child, my small hands reaching for him instinctively. With tender care, he lowered me into the arms of a woman with gentle eyes and a warm smile. My… mother. She looked down at me with so much love it was nearly tangible. Her joy radiated, filling the room as she brushed her fingertips along my face, whispering soft words only I could hear.

Her smile, that tender look in her eyes, felt like a balm on old wounds I hadn’t known still bled. “He’s perfect,” she murmured, her voice filled with awe.

The man’s hand rested on her shoulder, and I could feel his pride and protectiveness, his silent promise to keep us safe.

…

The scene shifted, and suddenly I was in my father’s arms. His face was strong and kind, with rough stubble lining his jaw and a warmth in his eyes that softened all the features hardened by work and time. He looked at me with so much joy, I felt it surge through me, even from where I stood as a spectator.

“There’s my little warrior,” he whispered, his voice a mix of pride and tenderness as he cradled me close, the lines around his eyes deepening as he smiled. “You’re going to be strong, I just know it.”

Then, from the corner of my vision, a woman appeared a woman who would’ve been just another face, if not for the unmistakable feeling that seized me when I saw her. She was beautiful, with soft, flowing hair and eyes that shone with a warmth that seemed to touch everything around her. Her expression softened as she reached for me, gently pulling me into her arms.

“Oh, my precious boy, my baby Emrys” she whispered, her voice filled with a love I hadn’t known before. She held me close, her arms wrapping around me with a tenderness that seemed to shield me from everything else in the world. “Welcome to our world. I’m going to keep you safe… always.”

Her words, though directed at the infant me, felt like they wrapped around me even now, sinking into every fractured part of me that still ached from a past life. I’d never known this kind of love before. The way her gaze held a warmth so deep, so utterly devoted It was overwhelming, filling parts of me I hadn’t realized were empty. At some point tears started streaming down my face.

“They loved you deeply,” Baloria observed, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. “They loved you in a way you never knew in your previous world.”

…

The memory shifted, time flowing forward like a gentle stream, revealing scenes of a childhood I hadn’t remembered until now.

In her arms, I saw myself grow, little by little, each memory flowing into the next, like a river of sunlight and laughter. My mother taught me the simplest things, each one infused with a gentleness that softened every stumble and mistake.

From infancy, my mother had been my world. I saw her, day after day, caring for me with a devotion that I’d only ever dreamed of in my old life. I felt her arms as she rocked me to sleep on restless nights, her soft humming filling the room with warmth and reassurance. I could hear her laugh, a sound that melted away every fear, every moment of uncertainty.

There was the time I was learning to walk, taking hesitant, wobbling steps across the floor. She’d sit nearby, arms outstretched, her face filled with encouragement as I made my way to her, each step unsteady but filled with determination. When I fell, her hands would be there, catching me, her laughter soft and reassuring.

“You’re doing so well, my sweet Emrys” she’d murmur, scooping me into her arms, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “You’re going to grow up so strong and handsome … I just know it.”

Her love was constant, unwavering. I could feel it in every small act, every gentle smile she sent my way. I could feel her joy as she watched me grow, as if each tiny milestone was her own. She shielded me from every hurt, every little stumble. Her hands were always there, always ready to lift me up, to hold me close.

As I grew, she never seemed to tire of teaching me about the wonders of the world around us. Her gentle hands guiding me through the steps of baking bread, the warmth of the hearth at our side as she told stories about her own childhood. She taught me to speak with kindness, to move with care, to cherish the magic in the everyday. Even my clumsy attempts at helping around the house brought her nothing but joy.

In these memories, I watched as I ran across the open fields surrounding our village, my mother’s voice calling me back with laughter. I could feel the freedom, the innocence of a childhood untouched by cruelty.

And it wasn’t just her. My father would come home each evening, his strong arms lifting me high into the air, his laughter ringing out like a warm melody. I’d giggle, clutching at him as he spun me around, his eyes filled with pride and joy.

“There’s my brave boy!” he’d say, pulling me close, his rough hands gentle as they held me. “Never let fear make you small,” he’d say, his voice gentle but firm. “The world is full of wonders, and you deserve to explore every one of them.”.”

Those words stayed with me, shaping my understanding of bravery, filling me with a belief that I could face anything if I had him and my mother by my side.

As I watched these memories play out, a knot tightened in my chest. I had once known a life where I was loved, where I was cared for, where I had two people who would have moved mountains for me. And yet, somehow, all of it had slipped away.

“Do you remember her smile?” Baloria’s voice was barely a whisper, but it brought me back to my mother’s face, that gentle curve of her lips that held every ounce of her devotion.

The memories flowed on, each one a treasure. I saw the village from a child’s perspective a beautiful, sprawling place filled with colors and scents I could almost remember. The flowers that bloomed near our home, the smell of baking bread wafting from nearby cottages, the laughter of other children running through the fields.

And there was her… my best friend, the girl who lived just next door. We were inseparable, two small figures darting through the village, finding adventures in every corner. She’d grab my hand, her smile bright and eager as she led me through our favorite paths, her laughter mixing with mine. Together, we explored every inch of our little world, making up stories, sharing secrets, and laughing until our sides ached.

In that place, I knew nothing but warmth, safety, love a world where I was cherished, protected. It was so different from everything I’d known in my other life, a life tainted by harsh words, by cold, unfeeling faces. Here, there was only kindness, only warmth.

As I watched these moments unfold, tears kept coming, a pang of loss twisted in my chest. These memories they were beautiful, but they were also painful, each one a reminder of everything I’d been forced to leave behind. The laughter, the warmth… all of it had been ripped away, stolen from me.

I glanced at Baloria, wondering if she understood the depth of what she’d just shown me. Her gaze was fixed on the scene before us, her expression unreadable.

“What happened?” I found myself asking, rubbing away the tears, the question slipping out before I could stop it. “Why… why did it all go away?”

Baloria didn’t answer, her gaze never leaving the scene. But as if in response, the memory began to shift, darkening at the edges.

I watched as the familiar warmth of the village was replaced by a creeping sense of dread, a darkness that seemed to seep into every corner. The laughter of the children faded, replaced by a haunting silence. The sky grew darker, heavy clouds gathering overhead as a strange, unnatural stillness settled over the village.

And then I saw them, shadowy figures, cloaked and ominous, moving through the village like phantoms. Their presence was a blight, a darkness that twisted the beauty of the village into something sinister, something broken.

I wanted to scream, to warn them, to shout that danger was coming. But I was powerless, a mere spectator trapped in this memory, forced to watch as my world was torn apart.

“Do you want to see what happened next?” Baloria asked, her tone almost sympathetic.

The memory began to blur, darkening at the edges, as the image of our small village, my home, was overshadowed by something unknown.

“No,” I whispered, my voice shaking. I could feel my heart pounding, a visceral response to the dread I knew was coming.

Baloria was silent, letting me absorb the weight of my memories, of everything I had lost.

In the distance, I caught a glimpse of my parents, their faces pale and strained as they glanced toward the horizon. My mother held me close, her arms wrapped around me protectively, her gaze filled with fear. My father stood beside her, his expression hardening as he watched the figures draw closer, his hand tightening around the hilt of a blade.

As the scene dissolved, I was left with an ache, a hollow feeling in my chest that no words could fill. The life I had lost, the family that had been stolen from me, hung over me like a shadow.

Haunting me…