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Remembering You

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There were three things he took particular notice of as awareness began to return to his mind.

Oddly enough, the first thing he noticed was the cold. The air itself was chilled and every so often a gust of wind blew past, sending him into violent shivers. It was the type of cold that felt like it was piercing through right to the bone and made him wonder momentarily if he would ever regain proper feeling from the numbness currently spreading through him. He stretched out his limbs in an attempt to get rid of the stiffness. There was a strange familiarity to his movements; the motions all felt commonplace and aside from the cold he was completely at ease with his body. Which was odd considering his mind was completely blank, empty of any memories that might tell him who he was.

The second thing he noticed, and probably what any outside observers would have come to first, was the wetness. His clothes were completely soaked through and dripping onto the pebbles beneath this feet. Gingerly he picked at what he was wearing, not enjoying the feeling of the damp material but wanting to find something, anything, that might bring a spark of remembrance to his mind.

He seemed to be wearing some form of chainmail and his undershirt, though drenched, was well made and expensive looking. It was mildly frustrating how easily this information popped into his head and yet there was still nothing personal coming to mind, no links developing between what he was wearing and who he might be.

He took a few deep breaths and his brain started to feel more functional, more capable of coping with whatever this situation was that he had found himself in. Turning around slowly under the weight of his wet clothing, he took in his surroundings. He was standing by the edge of a lake with pebbles stretching along the shoreline for as far as he could see. It explained why he was so wet anyway, or at least partially.

Connections were starting to form in his head but something wasn’t quite fitting. Clearly he had washed up onto the shore, it was the only obvious explanation. But he was standing up, firmly planted on both feet, rather than sprawled across the ground as you might expect and as far as he could remember, he had been ever since he had come to.

Nothing was making sense; the world around him seemed strange but also slightly familiar, like maybe he had been here before. But the strangest thing of all was that he wasn’t scared, wasn’t panicking in any way. And that was all down to the third thing he had noticed.

There was a figure stood in the distance. He was too far away to make out any features, other than the fact that he was male, but close enough for him to tell that this man was focussed entirely on him.

That in itself should have been terrifying; waking up in the middle of nowhere with no memories and a stranger watching him from afar. Instead it just felt comfortable and right. This was a man who he could trust to look after him, had always trusted to look after him. He knew that with complete and utter certainty. His feet started moving, taking him towards the figure, before he even realised what he was doing and with every step the world felt clearer.

As he got closer he could make out the man’s features: dark messy hair, bright eyes and a smile that grew larger and larger as he drew nearer. He picked up his pace, suddenly desperate to be standing at the man’s side where he knew he belonged.

A grin spread across his own face, mirroring the one on the man before him, and he no longer noticed the cold or the wet. All his senses were honed on the person before him and as he drew up within arm’s reach he let out a laugh, a name coming to his tongue completely naturally and the joy he felt at it was almost overwhelming,

“Merlin!”