The Matriarch's Daughter

Chapter Thirty: Not Quite Home

As Rory stared out at the sea, Thepa stared at Rory. The boat ride from Goldale to Wildehaven was unsettling. The last week had seemed like a lifetime ago. The day Thepa stood in the marketplace, seeing her sister lying on the ground was one she would soon never forget. It was both a nightmare and a dream come true. It was the day she got her sister back. For that, she was grateful. 

However, if it wasn't for the nagging voice in the back of her mind, her spirit might have been at ease.

Who are you? Thepa wondered.

Physically, Rory was there. The scar on her left hand from a younglinghood accident was there, her hair just as wild and untamed. Even her smile, when it appeared, was the same one that had accompanied countless shared jokes. 

But it wasn't her Rory.

The person beside her didn't know her. Worse still, Rory didn't know herself. Thepa had spent countless hours, relentlessly recounting stories, names, and places, only to have Rory stare back with nothing but confusion. The only glimmer of recognition had been Rory's impression of her bow, and even that was becoming a fleeting whisper that dissipated into the night.

This was not her sister.

Rory shifted, kneeling by the rail, resting her head against the wood as if trying to draw strength from the sea. Thepa, too short to do the same, bent her knees awkwardly to match her sister's height.

"Tired?" Thepa asked, much softer than she intended.

Rory let out a slow sigh, her chest heaving before a heavy deflation against the taffrail. "No. I was just thinking."

Thepa turned her head in her direction, forcing a smirk. "You'll have to be careful with that; you might hurt yourself."

Rory's head snapped toward her, a stern look on her face that sliced through Thepa's attempt at humor. "Sorry," Thepa mumbled, turning away, guilt creeping in. "Go on, please."

This is not my sister.

Rory turned her lackluster green eyes back towards the sea. "I was thinking about Wildehaven. What if I don't remember it? If Draco, Einkidi, Gamma, Claudia, and the Gate of Moon are the strongest of my memories, what happens then?"

Thepa winced at the mention of Claudia and Gamma. The former had not been seen since they returned to Wildehaven to report Rory's supposed death, leaving Thepa with nothing but silence where their friendship once was.

And Gamma...Thepa considered telling Rory the truth, but as she looked at her sister with her sorrowful blue eyes, how could she? How could she burden her sister with past iniquities she couldn't remember? Instead, Thepa pushed down the swell of guilt, desperate to change the subject.

"Remember what the healer said?" Thepa asked, the irony of asking Rory to remember not lost on her. "The enemy captured you. Given the scars on your body, the healer believes your mind is protecting you by helping you forget."

Rory's gaze remained stoic towards the waves crashing against the boat, but she gave a small nod. "Maybe it would be better if I did forget, then."

Thepa's breath caught. "Is that what you want?" she asked softly, afraid of the answer.

For a while, nothing was said. The waves continued to billow, and the sailors barked orders, but Thepa needed to know where Rory stood. More importantly, she needed to know who the woman was, so she kept quiet.

"No," Rory said firmly, much to Thepa's relief. "I don't believe the suffering I went through is greater than what I could gain by remembering."

The firmness in Rory's tone left no room for argument, and Thepa couldn't help but grin.