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“Maybe you weren’t supposed to take me in. Maybe you should have just left me.”
There's silence. I feel the urge to reassure her that I don’t really mean it, but the problem is that I do. I don’t know how to exist without a purpose. And worse, I keep feeling that I have one, that it’s out there somewhere if I could just remember it. But I can’t. No matter how hard I reach, my memory stays a blank void.
What’s the sense of an orc warrior who doesn’t even know who he’s supposed to fight?
“Your body has to heal,” she says to me patiently. “That’s a simple fact. What do you think would happen if you were to try going out into the forest in the state you’re in now?”
I remember the wolf baring her fangs at me, and the terrifying feeling of weakness when I realized there was nothing I could do. I just stood there, frozen, waiting for her teeth to bite into my flesh.
If I had gone much further, Amara might not have been there to save me.
“I wouldn’t make it.” I lay back down on the bed. “You’re right.”
“And would it do any good for your cause for you to die alone in some forest?”
“That isn’t the point,” I return. “It’s a matter of dignity.”
She sets her hand on my chest. It feels good. Warm and comforting, somehow. “I don’t see the dignity in providing an easy meal for some scavengers.”
“I know you don’t.”
And when I actually have to think about it, I don’t want to die like that. I could force myself to. I’m very good at doing things I don’t want to do. But I don’t want to be food for some random forest creature. When I die, I want it to be glorious.
For now, I’m surviving by clinging to the one thread of my memory, that feeling of urgency. If I just knew what was so urgent, who I was supposed to help or stop, it would change everything. If I stay alive, maybe my memory will come back. Maybe I’ll be able to have purpose again.
“I could send the wolves out,” she suddenly offers. “They can look for scents and traces. You must have been fighting somewhere up the river. Maybe they can find something. Something that would jog your memory.”
The possibility immediately excites me. “You mean it? You could really do it?”
“I already sent two just to make sure that no one’s looking for you. It wouldn’t be so hard to ask a few more to investigate.”
The idea of someone coming to find me hadn’t struck me before now. Was that possible? Could I really be so important that they’d search the forest to finish the job? It wasn’t ridiculous. Didn’t I have a feeling that I had been more than just some lowly footsoldier? Didn’t I have the pride of a great warrior?
It was almost a nice thought, except for the danger that it puts Amara in. It is difficult enough to accept her kindness as it is. I don’t know what I’d do if my presence hurt Amara or any of the members of her pack.
“As long as you’re sure it’s safe,” I say. “I would appreciate it.”
“Yes, but make sure to take care of yourself,” she tells me. “If you push yourself and get injured like that again, it will just mean you have to stay longer.”
I do my best to smile. “Don’t worry. I want me out of here soon just as much as you do.”
But she doesn’t smile or laugh. She just stares.She’s really worried, I realized.She does think that someone might come for me. And in my present condition with my re-injured shoulder, I wouldn’t even be able to help her. Not that I was much good before, I think to myself.
“I brought you here,” she says finally. “That makes you my responsibility. And I will take care of you as long as you need me to.”
She has a code of honor, too, I realize. It’s different from mine as a warrior, but she holds herself to it just as strictly.
I want to learn more about that. I want to know more about her in general. How has she survived this long? How did she convince the wolves to care for her rather than eat her up? And what have they taught her?
“I won’t strain myself again,” I promise. “But I don’t want to sit around doing nothing, either. Is there any way that I can help you? Or your pack?”
She thinks about that for a moment. Clearly, it’s a question she hadn’t expected me to ask. She would have gladly cared for me all the way to health without expecting anything of me. That interests me.
“You could help with some of the housework,” she says. “Gathering herbs. Watching things. As you get better, you might be able to take part in a hunt.”
“Whatever you need from me,” I reassure her. “I just want to feel useful again.”
In a way, it feels almost like cheating. Somewhere out there is my true purpose. Something that I’m supposed to fight for. And here I am, trying to replace it with helping some weird girl in the forest and her pet wolves.
