Rising Smoke

Chapter Four

"My memories?" I ask. What is Arlen talking about? My question stopped them trying to lead me out of the door. I put a hand on my hip and cock it to the side. Very intimidating.

"You must have guessed by now that you have been here before?" Arlen says this with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Yes, I have slowly come to that conclusion." I say, nodding my head.

"You grew up here." Conran interjects, "You, Arlen and I grew up together. Until you were ten. That's when your abilities came in."

"My abilities?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. What do they take me for? Stupid? Please. I'm anything but. I don't have "abilities". I would know if I did. Wouldn't I?

They ignore me, resuming their task of leading me out the door. They each take an arm, propel me out the door and into the hall. They lead me in a different direction than where I am came from, passing by portraits and torches. They walk silently next to me, while I pad down, my shoes making little thuds.

"Very old fashioned I see." I'm trying to dispel the awkwardness that has arisen. And I'm not touching that whole "abilities" comment, yet. Because when I did bring it up they got a very panicked expression on their face. And then they glanced at each other, which was even weirder. Like they know something I don't... well of course they know something I don't. They know a lot of things I don't. But by touching that particular something, I know that it would irrevocably change me. Change how I look at life and what I have grown up believing myself to be, which is a ordinary human being. Honestly, with a sinking feeling, I know I'm anything but.

"We try to keep our lifestyle away from that of Earth's." Conran comments, interrupting my dark thoughts, inevitably switching my brain onto another subject.

"Uh, why?" I know, I'm winning eloquence points. Hey, they are the ones who kidnapped me, remember? I don't have to be nice to them, even though they are the hottest thing I have ever seen on this side of the Mason-Dixon Line.

"Because," this time it's Arlen who speaks, "we may look like them, but we are far different." His voice gets kind of... dark at the last two words. Which leads to a round of dark silence for a few minutes.

"And besides," Conran now, " we have been doing this for centuries. Why stop?" He finishes with a shrug of his shoulders. I let out a little chuckle.

"Oh" I force out. That makes sense. Topic change. "Where are we going?"

They didn't answer. I am beginning to notice that they are very choosy on what they say. Well that's annoying. Why can't they just tell me a straight answer? Because, Leila, you might not like what they have to say.

"We are going to take that dress off you." Conran says, completely serious.

Uhh what? Hot king say what? He better be putting me into something else!

"And put you into clothes you are more familiar with." He continues, distracted with something.

Oh. Phew. That's better. "But wouldn't that go against your thing about not wanting to be like Earth, if I'm wearing regular clothes?"

Arlen glances at me. Conran had strode ahead, muttering about making sure things were in order. I don't know what kind of 'things' that needed to be taken care of, but I guess I will find out soon enough. So I put it behind me. Now it was just Arlen and me, strolling along.

"I'm not talking about the clothes that are on Earth. I'm talking about the clothes here that you were used to." He says this with a frown. And if I look closely, I can see sadness and anger in his eyes. Like before, he's got his hands clasped tightly behind his tense back and I, shuffling along in my big dress, which I have had to keep lifting up every step. So, basically, the whole time I have been walking, the dress has been up and out of my way. I am pretty sure I'm not even holding this right. Oh, well. I wasn't raised up to be a lady or whatever. If that's what they were thinking. Because what else could they want me for? I'm just Leila Jay Prowlers. But I'm slowly figuring out that that is not all I am.

After reading the confusion on my face, Arlen sighs, "You know you have been here before. I can see the recognition in your eyes, even if you haven't realized it, yet. I know you will, Leila." He turns to me, stopping us, grabbing my shoulders in a non painful grip. "You will come back to us and we will be like we were." His eyes staring intensely, he leaned down to eye level with me.

This stuns me. Back to who I was? I don't even remember... I don't even know who I am now. How can I know who I was, if I don't even know that I used to be that person? My mouth agape, I stared into his blue, blue eyes.

"Leila, please remember." He cups his hand around my face, pushing away the hairs that were around my face. Gently, he rubs his thumbs in circles on my cheeks. What is he doing to me? My face is burning, because of me blushing and because of his touch. His touch. Oh, God. His touch. He needs to stop that. I can't think. "It was... hell not knowing where you were all these years."

This startles me out of my comatose state and I jerk back, out of his hands. What? Why am I so seduced by his touch? I barely know the guy. Even though he says that we have known each other for years before this. "You didn't know I left, if I ever left to begin with. This is a big if: if I was here to begin with. You didn't know where I was? Then how did you find me?" I am so confused, I am rambling now. My voice is breathless. I know I don't make much sense, but I think he understands because of the way he is looking at me now. He looks so distraught, like all of this, me being kidnapped and apparently not remembering who I am, is because of him. But how can that be? How could he have caused...whatever this is? I close my eyes. I have a headache coming on. Kind of surprised I have lasted this long without getting one.

His voice startles me, my eyes opening to him speaking. "It's my fault that you lost your memories, Leila. It's my fault you had to be taken out of this dimension and into Earth's." He says, almost like a sigh, like the truth of him and I has been with him for so long that it's the only thing holding him up as his shoulders slump. He looks at me with sad, sad eyes. That makes my heart break, like even though my brain doesn't recognize him, my soul and heart does. "My fault that you are the way you are."