Identity Crisis Continued

"Listen," he said. "Let me begin again: King Emry and Queen Sovay have given light to the Princes Henri, Gunther, Exeter and Marlin, as well as to the Princesses Cecilia, Susana, and Catrina. Marlin died in childbirth, as did Catrina; Susana fell to a fever in her second year. Princess Cecilia disappeared five years ago and her brother Prince Gunther disappeared one year after that." Madhew finished and sat back in his chair.

"Who am I?" whispered the young woman.

"Probably a miner's daughter who hit her pretty head on a rock," answered the other counselor.

"What about Lord Fred?" she asked.

"What about him?" asked Lord Damian Thatcher.

"Am I confused about him, too??"

"No, no," answered Lord Thatcher. "You got him right...except for the being dead part. He is even now in the dreaded caves hunting the Dragon."

"No, he is not." The woman's voice was cold and solid. "I may be confused about my name and blood, but I know with certainty that I was... a prisoner for five years, held by magic stronger than any known. Fred... saved me. But he perished when... when I was freed."

"Now, now little... what is your name again?"

She thought a moment. Frederica Exultaine was the name with which she had left the Southern Caves, but that could not be the truth, not if these men had their wits about them. "You can call me Frey," she said.

"Well, Frey, if you thought you were the King's daughter and you are obviously not, then perhaps your imagining a gallant knight saving your life is also just that, an imagining."

"My head hurts," said Frey. "May I sleep the night here? Perhaps it was a hit to my head. Perhaps in the morning I shall remember things aright."

"Of course," said the Lord and he gave instructions for the maidservants to treat Frey with respect and courtesy, and to give her a good room in which to rest.

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Belboz, also known as Belboz the Fell wondered if the little imp of a lass had gotten into trouble yet by traipsing about as the King's daughter. He giggled at the thought of such a delicious lie. He hummed as he worked on a new contraption, his fingers gingerly moving about a thing of metal and bark. He stood in his laboratory within Mt. Cicatrice and thought about "Lord Fred." ~~Tis a goodly thing I dispelled that creation~~ he thought. ~~Twas time, after all. The Dragon shall continue to spew forth fire, eating, drinking and taking Allarians for its underground zoo, making my own activities less of a public threat. As long as Crucius stays out of my hair for one year longer, I shall be fine...~~

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Prince Gunther wailed like a maniac. He had forgotten his name long ago and had lost his sanity shortly thereafter. A man could only take so much madness before he himself goes mad. His senses showed him a world of smoke and soot and dirt, he could hear screaming all about him - he didn't realize the screaming was coming from his own lips. He also didn't know that his world was the result of smoke and mirrors and a magickal spell cast from the fingers of Crucius the Wicked. Crucius called Gunther his pet to the few in the know. Gunther had forced Crucius from Allaria and Crucius had never forgiven him for it. "Payback is a bitch," Crucius had screamed at Gunther on the day Gunther had been imprisoned.

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Princess Cecilia flew high above the forest, at times like these she almost accepted her curse. Almost. The foolish girl had left the confines of her father's lands without permission and evil overtook her in the form of a handsome man. She was taken captive and taken to the west. She was sold, violated, resold and then... cursed. Some vile sorceror by the name of Thul had hexed her such that by day she was turned into a statue of her true self while at night she became a large owl. She escaped her last captors but found it difficult to hide herslef from treasure hunters, stoneworkers, and antique dealers during the day. She was always afraid of where she would find herself when she awoke as an avian of the night. Through listening in at doors, windows and chimneys, she heard tale of good wizards and mages, and heard very good reports of one Sire Brevoort. She had spent the last number of months trying to make her way towards his whereabouts. Movement was slow, she was motionless in the day hours and flew as an owl at night, but she was also half mad herself (wouldn't you be?). Her sense of logic was not very strong anymore and she often saw thinges on the edges of her sight. She thought they were real, but was aware enough to doubt herself.

1. Frey can't sleep with all her self-doubt and confused memories...

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