• The First World
    Master's Cabin
    Chapter 1


    XXX Falling. I remember that deafening roar of the winds as I tore through them. The dry feeling in my back which was closest to the ground. I remember the thumping of my chest as I realized I wasn't slowing. That I could turn around and see the ant-sized trees. If I had screamed, I don't remember hearing it. It's hard not to forget such an experience. It's the one thing I can actually remember. The first time I saw this world.
    Back then, I might have said this was a dream. I imagine that I probably did, more than once. Now, I'm lucky I remember that much. That fall. Somewhere near the end of it, a hand touches mine. That's when my memory goes black. It's the only way to know I'm still alive in this crazy place.
    XXX I stopped feeling pain, sorrow, fear. Somewhere between then and now, I forgot it all. Master says its because I can't come to terms with the past. That I can't accept something about myself. It doesn't help that I can't remember anything from before Master. Only darkness. You cannot face yourself if you cannot see through the foggy haze of amnesia.
    XXX It's the first snow. I can tell because the windows are covered in a frosty white, and Master's old bones are cracking in the next room. He's moaning for his morning tea. My body moved on its own. With Master's need for tea, I found my way into the kitchen, to his kettle and steaming stove. It would not be long before the sharp whistle would sound, and a piping hot cup of tea would be ready. Master did love tea, after all. Master was the one who made me aware again. I owe him a cup of tea every day.
    XXX A slow whine came from outside the door. Claws scratched into aging wood. Bandit heard the kettle warming up. I found myself in front of the cabinets, opening one after another. Removing meat and bowl. While the kettle for Master warmed, I stepped out into the cold. Bandit sat there, wagging his tail expectantly as the bowl lowered to his level. A whistle came from inside. Tea was ready. Bandit's teeth gnawed on yesterday's hunt with glee. My vision led me to believe I was back in the kitchen. A cup from the cabinet's in hand, tea was gently poured into the cup I'd managed to draw. Master is finally out of his room. He takes his place at the table. Words are not spoken between us for now. They are not needed. Besides, his jaw would ache more than his knees should he raise a conversation anyhow.
    XXX As he sipped his tea, I felt an urge to return to the outdoors. I soon find myself outside, staring into the white expanse. It's hard to describe, the sense of peace I find in this. Was this something from before? I could never be sure. But the cold white flakes, so many of them, all came together to form this view from outside Master's door. I could hear Bandit eating heartily nearby, but paid him little mind. White waves called to me. I could almost feel the frost lacing its way around my skin, yearning to surround me in a blanket of chilled wonder. I did not leave Master's porch, but I could see myself lying in a mound large enough to be my own bed.
    XXX "Annabelle!"
    XXX Master's tone spurned my dreams. I do not remember why I love the first snow. I don't think it matters. Master needed me for something. I would have to make sense of the frozen siren's allure later. It would not be long before I returned ot the kitchen. Before Master himself, holding up his cup of tea. I would pour another glass. He smiled, as his words dripped from his mouth.
    XXX "Did you remember anything today, Annabelle?" he asked. I shook my head. "I see. Four months now, and we still only have your name and a fall. This world has played a rather cruel trick on you, child. But if your memories are so far hidden, there must be a reason. You must search for it."
    XXX I nodded. Something he said every day. I wonder why Master says this most often. The old man was strange in that way. He often repeated himself. Was everyone in this world so forgetful? Perhaps so. It would explain the darkness in my memories. Bandit yipped from behind me. He wanted to play, the bone of his breakfast shoved at my feet.
    XXX "Go play," said Master. "Your memories are not the only things that elude you, child."
    XXX It didn't matter. I was soon in the snow, throwing a bone for Bandit to play with. As it struck snow for the first time, an impression of its shape dug into the soft surface. Bandit hopped and frolicked, before finding the prize in the snow. It splashed around the pup like a watery wave, before falling gracefully to rest again. I couldn't help but find awe in its beauty. Bandit was at my feet again, wishing for a second toss. I wouldn't hesitate to oblige. Master often said I was missing something besides my memories. I could not tell you what it might be. Not that it mattered. For Master, I would do anything. Tending to Bandit and making his tea were only a few of the chores I would perform at his request. This world stole my memory. It was only after Master that I started to remember again. I would not let him down in this world or any other. That much was a promise.