Legend of the Swords: War Read Online Free

nonetheless.
    Matthew frowned. The expression didn’t seem to suit his face. “No, we don’t really know. We’ve seen this sort of thing before, but never really been able to put a name on it. I apologize.” His face lit up again as he continued. “It doesn’t really matter, though, you’re here and you’re alive. We can give you a bit of vitlach, the healing rose water, before you leave, and a very modest amount of money. You had a sword; there is a war in the valley, perhaps you came here from there.” His eyebrows knitted, his smile faded. “Perhaps you are still needed down there. I don’t know.”
    The Awakened turned back toward the window. “Well, thank you again. I will never be able to repay what you’ve done.”
    Matthew stood up and walked over to the man, sharing the view out of the window. After a moment, he spoke softly. “There is one thing that you can do, although not for us. Help other people , since we have helped you. Do what’s right, for them and for yourself.”
    “Of course, Matthew.” The Awakened focused on Matthew’s reflection in the glass. There was something more behind Matthew’s eyes. He seemed concerned, and on the edge of speaking, so the Awakened spoke again.
    “What is it, Matthew?” he asked.
    Matthew’s tension increased a bit. “During that month that you were unable to wake, you spoke in your sleep. What you had to say wasn’t always … pleasant.”
    The Awakened turned towards Matthew, his expression mixed with emotions. His eyebrows were knitted together with worry, but his mouth was open, eager to ask for any hope of his past life. “What did I say?”
    Matthew shook his head. “You were mostly expressing regret. Saying things like ‘I should have done it differently.’ There was nothing specific, nothing to help you remember, I’m afraid.” He shuddered. “But the tone in which you said it was terrible. Full of fear.”
    “Well, I certainly don’t feel that way now.” The awakened still looked worried. “I feel like…well, like a good person, you know? What could I have done that would engender such regret and fear?”
    Matthew paused for a moment. Then, he clapped the Awakened’s shoulder. “Be light of heart, my friend. I’m sure that you will be a fine man, and you will remember what is meant for you to remember. After all,” he said, with a sad grin, “sometimes it is better to forget.” He turned to leave.
     
    *   *   *
     
    It took a week of recuperation to get well enough that he could walk for more than a few minutes without becoming winded. He slept a lot, and he received instruction in light stretching exercises that helped rapidly rebuild some of his lost strength. Of course, the vitlach seemed to help quite a bit too.
    After seven days had passed, and after an exercise session, Matthew visited him again, carrying a long bag with him which he set beside the door.
    “I see that you’ve recovered your color, Awakened.” Matthew smiled, his eyes crinkling. “I hear that you can touch your toes now! Now that is real progress.” He winked.
    The Awakened laughed along with Matthew. “Yes, I can.” He bent over and leaned over, knees locked, and put his palms on the floor.
    “Your palms on the floor! I had but imagined that you could touch your toes with your fingertips!” Matthew bent over, but his large belly got in the way. His fingers dangled inches above his toes. “You have achieved the Nirvana of Noodles, you are more flexible than a tired old monk!”
    They both grinned, and the Awakened sat down. His smile slowly faded. “I may have recovered flexibility in my body, but my mind hasn’t recovered in the same way—I still don’t remember anything.”
    Matthew sighed. “I was afraid of that.” He shook his head gently, and cast his gaze downward. “I fear that you will never know who you used to be. Or what is perhaps worse, that if your memory does come back, it will be due to a shock of similar magnitude to