The morning dawned, finding Zelgadis brooding on the porch. He’d slept enough, and so sat on the railing watching the sun come up. The door opened and Zelgadis looked to see the merchant step outside.
        “There you are, son. It’s a good morning, isn’t it?”
        Zelgadis looked back to the rising sun. “It has promise. Last night… last night, for a moment, she was herself. She wasn’t fully awake, and she tried to talk to me.”
        “Did she now? Good. It’s her day off today, maybe the two of you can work on her memory some more,” the merchant said, lighting his pipe.
        Zelgadis nodded, and then looked to the man. “I don’t know your name. I’m living in your house, and I do not know how to address my host.”
        The merchant’s laugh boomed out over the dawn. “Ian. Ian Sellmore. How’s that for you? With a family name like that, how could I not be a merchant?”
        Zelgadis smirked. “I see your point. Thank you, Ian.” A sound at the doorway caused him to turn, and he saw her standing there, looking out at them both.
        “Good morning. Did you both sleep well?” She asked. “Breakfast will be ready shortly. Zelgadis… I know you like coffee for breakfast… do you want anything else?”
        The flicker that crossed his eyes wasn’t lost on Ian. “Coffee will be fine, thank you… Amy.” Zelgadis took care to not call her Lina.
        She turned with a nod and went back into the house and Ian looked at him. “You didn’t tell her that you liked coffee.”
        Zelgadis nodded as he watched her. “No, I didn’t. Her memories aren’t completely locked away.”
        “Mmm,” Ian remarked, smoking his pipe thoughtfully.
        Zelgadis turned back to the morning and looked out at the trees and wondered for the hundredth time since his arrival what had happened to Lina.

        Breakfast was a quiet moment in the morning, Zelgadis sipping at his coffee, Amy eating her eggs, and Ian spending most of the time writing up to-do lists for when he opened up the store.
        “Are you sure that you can handle the store alone today? I could come help…” Amy said to Ian, as if hoping that he’d take her with him.
        “No, I think that spending the day with Zelgadis and trying to work out your memories is a much better idea.” Ian looked across to Zelgadis. “You need anything, feel free to grab it. Just let me know and I’ll bring more back from the store.”
        Zelgadis set the empty coffee mug down and nodded. “If it is possible, please bring a blank writing journal and a pencil.”
        Ian stood, taking up his lists and nodded. “That’s easy, son. I’ll bring it with me tonight.” He reached out and gave Amy a gentle hug. “You go careful, girl.”
        She hugged back and smiled faintly. “I’ll… try…”
        When Ian left, the silence grew uncomfortable, and at length, Zelgadis looked to Amy who was simply staring at her hands. “What do you do on your days off?”
        She looked up with a start. “Well… I usually do chores…”
        Zelgadis nodded. “Then let’s start.”

        Chores consisted of laundry, dishes, sweeping out the house, and various other little jobs that Zelgadis was positive Lina would never do. And yet, there she was, scrubbing the clothing as if there was nothing at all unusual in doing so. When she’d swept out the house, she’d used a broom and he’d almost expected her to levitate everything in the room. Instead, she’d patiently moved each piece of furniture that she could, and he’d helped with the larger things, lifting them into the air with a simple levitation spell.
        She’d said she couldn’t use magic.
        He sat, watching her scrub at a stain on a shirt. He’d have to figure out a way to get her to talk to him. She seemed almost… afraid of him, afraid of the memories that she had buried. But yesterday evening… she’d wanted him to help her. Up until she’d looked at the talisman.
        “Amy… I’m just sitting here watching. What can I help you with?” He asked.
        She paused, looking over. “Not much,” she admitted. “I’m not used to having anyone around to help me.” She shrugged slightly and went back to the wash.
        He walked over to her, resting his hands on her shoulders, almost hoping that she would blast him for touching her. “My presence upsets you. Last night… you wanted to know. Today, the idea upsets you. I can’t make the decision for you.”
        She tensed under his grasp, and he braced himself for the fireball. But none came. She sighed softly. “When I picked up that… that thing… I saw a monster… like a quick flash of memory. It… it… was after me…” She started to shake, and before he could move, she turned in his hands and flung herself into him.
        Startled, he stood there looking down at her hair for a moment before he brought his arms around her in what he hoped was a gentle embrace. He was, after all, made of stone.
        They stood there like that for a while, and he could feel the fabric of his shirt dampen from what he expected were tears. After some time, he heard her whispering, sounding so very much like an echo of herself. “I’m afraid it will come back for me, Zel… that if I remember… then it will return and…”
        He shook his head. “If that happens, I’ll protect you.” She almost sounded like herself again. Her turn of phrase was more like her old self’s.
        She seemed to curl in on herself. “No… it killed Gourry. I don’t want it to kill you too…”
        He gave a faint bitter laugh. She still doesn’t remember. “You’ve forgotten. I’m made of stone. The only thing that can kill me is-“
        She cut him off, looking up at him with a vague sort of recognition. “The Sword of Light… you told me that once. But… when? I mean, I look at you, and I know that I should know you, know who you are. But every time I reach for that memory… every time I almost touch it, it dances out of my grasp like it’s caught by the wind. Sometimes I think I’m crazy, that all these memories are nothing more than passing dream-memories and that it will all go away.”
        He smiled. “You’re no crazier than I am.”
        She gave a little half-laugh, sounding more like Lina. “Great. I’m no crazier than the stubborn chimera. Just wait until I tell Amelia that.” She blinked, and amended: “Once I figure out who Amelia is.”
        “The Princess of Saillune,” he replied, hoping that might stir more memories.
        She stared at him. “What? The Princess of Saillune? You mean I know royalty? No way!”
        He smirked. “Yes, you do know her. You’ll just have to trust me on that.”
        She shook her head, realizing that he was holding her, and stepped away from him, blushing faintly. “Sorry…”
        His answer was simpler than his thoughts. “You looked like you needed it.”
        She picked at the skirt that she was wearing and looked back at the laundry and the forgotten shirt. “I should… finish this…” Taking up the shirt, she started to work on the stain again.
        Lina… we have to bring you back. Whatever is out there… it has to be found, and destroyed. He thought as he watched her busy herself finishing the laundry.

        When the laundry was finished and hung to dry, they sat out on the porch and she watched the clothing sway in the breeze. Her question was completely out of the blue, and it startled him. “Who was Xellos?”
        He looked at her in surprise. “Well, he has purple hair, carries a staff… he’s better known as the Trickster Priest… even though he’s the general-priest of Beastmaster Zelas Metallium. Why?”
        She said it matter-of-factly. “Because the monster killed him too.”
        The words fell onto Zelgadis with the same percussive force as a large fireball exploding over his head. “It… what…?”
        She looked to him, eyes distant, as if she were only partly there with him. When she spoke, her words were empty, her voice flat. “It killed him. It tore him in half as Gourry picked me up and ran off.”
        The words spun in Zelgadis’ mind. Xellos was there when whatever it was had happened… if he was there and he hadn’t appeared by now… a whole year later… if it was a Mazoku capable of killing Xellos… It was very little wonder why she wanted to forget. Very little wonder indeed.
        Amy collected herself and rose from the porch steps. “I ought to start dinner.” She turned to the door and entered the house, leaving him alone with his thoughts.