Dry Bones: The Valley
I’d never been to Memory Hill before, and I didn’t know why.
I could see it off my balcony. From time to time, I even watched servants make the pilgrimage up the hill to cry and spend time mourning loved ones, but I had never seen a grave or a funeral. Not that they were great to go to, but still. They had a use, and the people left behind needed them.
Since I didn’t know which keepsake represented Servant’s lost children, I knelt at the base of the first trellis and laid the bouquet of lilies there. Staring up at all the unread letters and fading figurines, something caught my eye. There was a fake mustache dancing in the wind, looking too playful to be at a memorial.
I scoffed, grateful someone had a really good sense of humor in such sadness to hang a fake mustache. Standing, I took hold of it, noting the familiar feeling in my hand. As I ran my fingers over the matted mess of mustache, I felt the surge of something pushing to the front of my mind.
All of a sudden, a handsome face flashed forward. With it came blonde wavy hair, earnest blue eyes, and soft lips that bent my will. A tuxedo. A river and tears.
I gasped as a letter – the start of a name – began to emerge in my mind.
“Princess?” Levi called, looking like he wanted to come up the hill.
I shook my head, glancing back down with a smile. After a moment, I tentatively reached out and touched the mustache again. This time I felt the warmth of his lips and the depth and cadence of his voice as he pleaded with me. I couldn’t hear his words, but they were pulling me in even through silence. I strained as hard as I could, but I couldn’t push past the invisible wall dividing details from my memory.
Even in the lowlight shadow of the memory, I could tell it was Alexander, one of Saiza’s handsome blonde sons. Shocked, I leapt back from the mustache like it burned me. I had never been involved with one of Saiza’s sons.
The mustache swayed from my motion and the wind, and I couldn’t peel my eyes away from it. How did I have intimate memories of Alexander? The memory was wrong somehow. It couldn’t have been him. After all, he wasn’t dead. Didn’t Levi say Memory Hill was for people who had passed? Even more confusing, if I had these memories, then I must’ve been the person who placed the mustache there.
But…why would I do that? And when?
I had no memory of it.
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