Cassien slung an axe over his shoulder, arcing it down in a lazy motion with one arm that effortlessly split the deep wood in a perfect half. Again and again, he repeated the tedious motion without complaint nor a bead of sweat. By midday, the pile of wood had exponentially increased, and the other men simply gave up as they sat ragged and red-faced on stumps. They watched Cassien work with a mixture of astonishment and alarm at his vigor, despite the fact that he had been bed bound by injuries only a few days ago. Not even the town doctor could explain how he had already recovered from his severe injuries, except for the glaringly obvious memory loss.

His arrival to Pentley was an even bigger mystery: fishermen had found him unconscious, drifting on a thick slab of ice that hadn't melted a single drop even in the coastal waters. Combined with his strange, well-tailored clothes, - even torn and ripped - unusual eyes, and an accent that didn't match their region, Cassien was the enigma of the village. The men made no effort to obscure their jealousy, and the women certainly didn't hide prying eyes.

Myron hollered at Cassien, wiping his wiry greying brows. "You're making us look bad, lad. At this rate, we'll have more lumber than we can export."

Pentley sat on the western coast of the drylands near the oceans, just north of the southern savanna, and was in one of the few regions that grew trees other than acacia. It was a small village, but lumber was its main export to the larger towns around Augustus. After they had saved his life, Cassien felt it was wrong not to at least do a bit of manual labour in return - not that it was difficult, anyway.

The shuffle of nearby bushes interrupted the men, and they turned to see a blur of coloured dresses rush away in a fit of giggles. Young women had been snooping around corners, hiding behind trees since Cassien's public appearance to sneak a glance at him. He didn't care to either encourage or discourage the behaviour, though his new associates obviously had other opinions. They had egged him on to take advantage of his new fame for some fun, but it unsettled him to even think about.

"Must be a burden to be so handsome," Banner, a man with dark-skin and a black beard, grumbled lightheartedly.

Cassien ignored him, plunking the tip of the axe into the gnarled surface of the chopping stump. "What else needs to be done?"

"Whoa, whoa," Myron held up his hands, the crow's feet around his eyes deepening. "Let's not get too ambitious. You act like ya never taken a day off in your life!"

"That's right," Banner clapped his hands "Sun's comin' down, and you know what that means."

Before Cassien knew it, the two men slammed mugs full of ale in a cheer as he sat wedged between them, his own drink untouched on the sticky table. He had wanted nothing more than to return to his guest bed back at Myron's residence, but Myron had threatened to swallow the house key if he didn't tag along. Despite only knowing him for a few days at most, Cassien knew the man was crazy enough to do it. Reluctantly, he had followed them to the Salty Seagull; the tavern buzzed with activity and clinks of tin against tin, the smell of greasy food wafting in the air as staff raced about the cozy establishment.

"To another day done," Myron hiccuped.

"And to another beer when we're done that, too!" Banner bellowed, and the two men chugged their drinks in a single go.

They slammed down their empty mugs to the growing collection of empty cups, waving at a barmaid with braided blonde locks and round cheeks for another round.

Banner leaned towards Cassien, nudging him heavily. "You gonna drink yours?"

"Go for it," Cassien pushed the mug towards him. Strangely enough, he had a feeling he wouldn't enjoy the taste.

Before Banner could even lift a finger, Myron banged his hand across the table so hard that some ale sloshed out. "Nah! Hands off! Let the kid drink - hiccup - his beer. Maybe'll… Maybe it'll jog that - hiccup - memory o' yours."

"Hmmm," Banner mused out loud, staring intently at Cassien. "Still nothin', hey?"

Cassien shook his head. "Just my name, bits and pieces of my parents."

"And what were they like?"

The faces of his parents were a little more than a blur, but Cassien could distinctly remember his father's proud eyes and his mother's firm but kind smile. He could briefly recall they expected highly of him, but there was no negative emotion attached to them otherwise. He could remember most of all that they loved him, and he in return.

But his new acquaintances didn't need to know everything. "They were good people."

"Maybe if you drink more, things will come back," Banner offered.

Just then, the barmaid appeared beside their table with a tray full of drinks. She was younger than him, with a single blonde braid slung down one shoulder that Cassien thought was slightly too yellow toned - though he couldn't figure out exactly why that mattered. Even her eyes that were a shade of sapphire blue tugged at him, but something about it seemed wrong. The more he chased the question of lost memories, the more his head throbbed with pain, like knives through his skull. As soon as he stopped, the pain would subside to a low hum - which, for now, was all he could handle.

Cassien realized then he had been staring too long.

Banner guffawed, slapping Cassien on the back with a thundering clap. "Oi, look at him! Daisy! I think you got our boy's eye!"

"Oi! Finally! I thought he was broken or somethin'!"

Cassien blinked, dumbfounded. "I wasn't-"

His protest was immediately drowned out. Banner laughed harder, and Myron squeezed Cassien's shoulder. "He's a - hiccup - real good lookin', but too damn quiet! Y..you're gonna have to do all the talkin'!"

Banner nodded furiously, sputtering a laugh. "An'... And won't stop working. Like… Like an alcoholic, but with work!"

A blush spread from Daisy's cheeks down to the exposed skin of her chest, but she didn't make an effort to walk away. It was true at how much Cassien stood out amongst the people of Pentley - even after days in the scorching sun, his skin remained pale - almost luminous - compared to most of the town's darkened complexions. Unique eyes reminiscent of honey entranced anyone who looked at them, and it was obvious with his tall, muscled build that he had a physically demanding background beyond woodcutting. Combined with a quiet, mysterious disposition, it was no wonder that half the women in the village were itching to get close to him.

Banner nudged Myron from across Cassien, faking an obvious cough. "Ey! Didn't you forget your shoes outside?"

"Eh?" Myron hiccuped once more before catching the mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. "Oh! Yeah, I - hiccup - did!"

"That doesn't even make sense," Cassien said in a deadpan voice.

The two older men chortled as they wobbled to their feet, supporting one another. Banner waved back. "'Course it does! Myron's got feet!"

"Keep 'im company for us, Daize," Myron called out in a sing-song voice, and the men quickly scampered off before he could protest any further.

Cassien braced himself to deliver a polite rejection, but to his surprise, Daisy slid onto the bench with measurable distance between them.

"They're gone now," She said in a high-pitched, melodic voice. "We can just pretend to talk, if you want."

He blinked in surprise, slowly turning to face her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Myron was here the other day talking about a stranger who floated in with no memory. Word travels fast in Pentley, if you haven't noticed already."

"Yeah," Cassien nodded. "You could say that."

Daisy gave him a sympathetic look. "I figured it's confusing enough to not remember who you are, let alone be the talk of the town."

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He felt a breath of relief escape him. "Thank you."

"You can thank me by passing me your drink," She said, throwing him a wink. "If you're not gonna drink it, of course."

Cassien pushed it over without complaint. "It's all yours."

She smiled at him then, and Cassien felt a jolt run through him - something about the kindness of her smile tugged at the edges of his memory. He could see it then in blurred patches: warm freckles across light golden skin, the cupid's bow of pink lips, and the faintest scent of citrus. Cassien couldn't remember their name or even piece together the fragmented pieces of their face into a collective image, but his chest ached at the thought of this unknown person. He didn't know their connection to him, but whatever it was, he knew at least that it was important.

Who are they? Cassien's brows furrowed together, digging deep into the trenches of his mind.

But with every second that he pushed harder to will his memory forward, the dull pain behind his eyes increased at a sharp pace. With each throb, Cassien barely was aware of the tiny crystals of frost that emitted from his fingertips. Unable to bear the pain for longer, he released the memory with a heavy breath, and the cold melted quickly as droplets on his palm. He looked down in confusion at the wetness of his skin, rubbing them dry against his trousers. Daisy - oblivious to his turmoil - began to chat about the upcoming summer season in Pentley.

But Cassien had his first piece of the puzzle: somewhere beyond Pentley, there was someone waiting for him.

He could only hope there was a way he would ever find them.

**

One, then two hours slipped by - both Myron and Banner hadn't returned from their great shoe hunt, though to Cassien's surprise, it didn't bother him. Most of the patrons had departed for the night, but Cassien figured he'd rather avoid the inevitable confrontation when he made it back to Myron's for a little longer.

Daisy had settled in more comfortably with a few drinks of her own - once she had finished Cassien's untouched mug; she didn't pry about his past for answers she knew he didn't have. The two simply enjoyed the friendly company, even if most of the conversation came from Daisy. He discovered that her father owned the Salty Seagull, and pitched in whenever she was bored. Even now, the plump man with a similar nose behind the counter kept a close eye on them. Cassien was careful to always keep his hands in open view - the last thing he wanted was trouble.

"And that's why my dad doesn't let me work behind the counter anymore," She finished, hands on her hips.

"I wouldn't either - can't say I'd be okay with someone putting dye in my drink just because I tripped them by accident."

"I was only eighteen!" Daisy exclaimed, sloshing some of her drink. She slouched down against her palms, mumbling into her hands. "If it makes things better, he and I actually dated for a few weeks afterwards. So clearly, he thought I was kinda funny."

"Of course," Cassien raised his brows at her. "You probably would've sabotaged something else if he didn't."

Daisy giggled, her face flushed red with amusement and mild inebriation. "You think so poorly of me already. And here I thought we coulda been friends."

She reached across him for another mug. "Think I need 'nother drink."

"I think it might be better if you didn't," Cassien pushed the cup away with a single finger. "You're red all over."

"Oh? And are you gonna stop me?" Daisy leaned into him with a cheshire grin, eyes sparkling, sandy skin flushed. Her voice was playful - a little reckless, a little flirtatious.

He held her gaze but didn't let her close the gap. Instead, Cassien rose from his seat. "Let's get you back home."

Daisy blinked up at him. "Wwwhat?"

It was Cassien's turn to be confused. "I'll walk you back."

"Yeah, I know," Daisy's words slurred slightly. "But you're not even gonna offer me your hand?"

He hesitated - memory loss was one thing, but he naturally had little desire to physically come in contact with people. Still, even he could deduct from her response that he was being callous.

"...Alright."

Daisy laughed out loud then, sticking out her tongue. "Relax, just messin' with you. I can tell you'd rather touch… like… blood or something rather than hold my hand."

She pushed herself up and stretched, wobbling only slightly. "C'mon, dark knight. Walk me home anyway."

The two stepped out into the cool but humid night, where most of the village was shrouded in dark silence with the occasional chirping of crickets. Daisy hummed a low tune under her breath as they walked down the dirt path, and Cassien had to pull her back a few times when she started to veer off course. At least she still seemed to know which path led to her house, otherwise they would've been doomed. They hadn't made it far when four shadows loitered around the bend of a corner building, and Cassien halted immediately. Something about the stance, the heavy mutters - his instincts prickled at the sense of danger.

He touched Daisy's shoulder, stopping her. "Wait."

"Eh? Did we get lost?"

Cassien kept his voice low, stepping in front of her like a greatshield. "No. But we should take another path."

"Naw, I'm pretty sure it's this way-"

"Daisy-"

She'd stumbled out from behind him, her foot catching on a loose stone and kicking it into the stone building. The shadows stopped moving, disappearing only to solidify twenty feet away in the shape of four men - each holding something heavy in their hands.

The tallest one - with chestnut hair - sneered. "Told ya he was probably leavin' the 'Gull. And look, he's already snagged one of own."

"The hell?" Daisy's face contorted into disgust. "No one is snaggin' anything."

A second man with black eyes and a wiry build spat on the ground. "All our wives have done this week is go on and on about some black haired stranger. I'm so fucking tired of it."

"What, you planning on stealing every woman in town?" A third added, tapping a broken bottle flat against his palm.

"Get lost, Parker," Daisy stuck out her tongue at the third man. "You're mad that he's barely been - hiccup - here for three days… 'nd already got what you couldn't in three years."

The third man - Parker - clenched his teeth in anger, taking a step forward.

"Really not helping," Cassien muttered under his breath. His gaze met the men's, steady and unfazed. "Look, I'm just making sure she gets home safe. That's all."

"Don't give a rat's ass," The fourth man said, the gruffest looking one of the group. He had a long, jagged scar running from ear to jaw. "You came here, got all patched up - now it's time for you to leave. You've overstayed your welcome."

Cassien narrowed his eyes. "You don't want to do this."

"Oh yeah, pretty boy?" The second man revved his shoes against the ground. "As if you could take us."

Without further warning, the four men charged forward with their weapons raised, weapons shining for a fraction under the street lanterns - a metal pipe, a thick branch, broken glass bottle, and a nicked kitchen knife. Cassien moved without hesitation, pulling a shell-shocked Daisy behind him, a natural instinct propelling him into a defensive stance.

The chestnut haired man reached him first, swinging down a thick branch the length of his arm in a heavy arc. Cassien caught the end of it with one hand, ignoring the rough bark digging into his skin, and wrenched the wood from his grasp. With a bend of his wrists, the branch snapped in two as if it had only been a twig. He drove one splintered end into the man's gut, kicking him in the side as the man collapsed in a curled groan.

"Sloppy," Cassien mocked.

"Fuck! Get him!" The fourth man roared.

Cassien turned his head in time to see the second man as he lunged towards him, a metal blade aimed straight for his ribs. Cassien spun on his heel with the broken branch as a shield, the metal biting deep into the wood. He twisted it while the knife was embedded, dragging the man's wrist along with the contorted movement so hard that he released the knife with a yelp.

"Holy shit!" Daisy hollered from behind. Cassien couldn't be completely sure, but he thought she sounded more like she was cheering on the fight than fearing for her safety.

A sixth sense prickled down his spine in a silent warning. The third assailant surged to his side in a striking opportunity while Cassien was still preoccupied. Without hesitating, Cassien grabbed the stunned second man with one hand by his collar, and swung him into the third. They collided in a bone-cracking sound, bowling over into the ground. Cassien ripped out the knife and flung it far away to be swallowed by the night, dropping the snapped branch to the ground.

Cassien wiped his cheek of a drop of blood that hadn't been his. His eyes were cold, entirely different than it had been seconds ago. "Last chance. Take your friends and go."

The fourth man snarled, raising the pipe in a charge. "You don't fucking scare me!"

Cassien didn't flinch, instead stepping in to meet the man halfway. The scarred man swung down in a precise arc, and from that single movement, Cassien knew he had some sort of combative background. Still - it was amateurish, though he'd had to be more careful than the others. The man swung relentlessly, and each time Cassien sidestepped his blow, he became more enraged. With each strike, the man's breathing became more laboured, his accuracy dipping.

Now's my chance, Cassien thought, narrowing his eyes.

The man gripped the pipe with both hands, letting out a blood curdling shout as he swung downwards in a crushing blow. Cassien was prepared for the momentum - he grabbed the pipe with both hands as it came down, fingers closing around the metal. Then, something truly unexpected happened.

Frost blossomed instantly along the length of the pipe, racing up toward the man's hands. There was a sharp, echoing crack as the metal turned brittle, and something within Cassien clenched his hands tightly; the pipe shattered clean into a dozen shards, clattering to the ground.

At that same moment, Cassien could feel a bubbling pain from behind his eyes, though he forced a stony expression. It was only by the grace of the adrenaline rushing through him that he was able to hold back.

The man recoiled in horror, staring down at the half-broken pipe. All of his bravado was lost. "What the fuck!?"

"What kinda fuckin' witchcraft-" The first man groaned, struggling to stand.

"L-let's get out of here!" The third man, Parker, wailed as he held one of his friends over his shoulders. Without another word, he and the others - bloodied and bruised - scrambled to their feet and vanished into the darkness.

Only then did Cassien stagger back, one hand rising to grip his temple as a wave of searing pain crashed through his skull.

"Oh my god! That was… That was crazy!" Daisy whooped from behind him. She noticed his stance, touching the back of his arm. "Hey, are you okay?"

Her voice became less than a muffle as a ringing filled his ears instead. Violet light overtook his left eye, and a new vision formed altogether: in the reflection of deep blue waters, there was a face of a beautiful woman with moonlight coloured hair and glacier blue eyes that were red-rimmed with tears. Despite the sadness that painted her face, she was breathtaking.

It struck him like lightning - he didn't remember her name, who she was, or if he belonged to her in some way.

But in the span of a single heartbeat, he knew he needed to know her.

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