Chapter Fifty-Two

One, two, one, two, turn, clap, clap. One, two, one, two, turn, clap, clap.

It felt to keep up at first, with the music only seeming to grow faster, and him having to remember the steps in his mind, but eventually Cliffe got the hang of it, and started laughing along with the rest of the crowd in the room. Opposite him, Lenna had been smiling all night. Well, there was that one instance when he'd accidentally tripped her, but that was all forgotten now.

"Much better now," Lenna grinned at him as they passed each other before circling around, now standing on opposite sides of the room. The music ended, and the men bowed to the ladies, before they rushed up to each other, laughing. Cliffe walked alongside Lenna out of the dance room, his left hand over her shoulders, grasping her left arm lovingly.

"I was beginning to think all that practice was for nothing," Cliffe admitted. "But I've got the hang of it now. Want to go another round?"

"Maybe later," Lenna answered. "Let's go eat first, you dancing ball of fur. I'm starving."

It was another one of the village parties, held at the village's main hall. Cliffe couldn't remember what the occasion was, exactly, though if he wasn't mistaken, it had something to do with someone's birthday. Either way, he didn't care much. He was here with Lenna, and that was all that mattered.

Ever since that sudden flash he'd gotten a few days ago, he hadn't really gotten anything else. And still he hadn't told Lenna about that glimpse he'd gotten into his past. Partially because it didn't really mean anything. The only thing he'd managed to remember clearly was a name- Olren -and that wasn't really of much help to anything. And then there was the fact that he still wasn't really sure if he wanted his past back, not that he thought about it much.

Every day spent with her was too wonderful to be spent worrying about such trivial things.

"Say, Cliffe," Lenna murmured as they approached the tables where the food was served.

"Yes?"

"Is this… is this all starting to bore you?" she asked.

"The party? Nah," he replied simply.

"I wasn't talking about the party," Lenna said, looking at him seriously. "I was talking about your life here. The village. The people. All these celebrations. The bar. In the end you're just doing mostly the same things over and over again, and you don't seem to get any closer to getting your memories back."

"Bore me?" Cliffe's eyes narrowed. "Lenna, I love every moment I spend here. I don't mind if it keeps repeating for the next hundred years. It's all just so… perfect." As he said this, he touched her left cheek softly, looking straight into her eyes.

"Then it's perfect for me too," Lenna replied, her lips curving into a smile.

-

Ceren couldn't understand what the human girl was trying to do to him. Every day she came by to his small, dark room, bringing him food and water. And on more than one occasion, she'd sit with him as he ate, talking to him in a low, soft tone. He never understood her words, and he never said anything back to her, save for the one word she'd managed to teach him – Rin, which was what he called her. Other than that, there was not much he could say, not much he could think of saying. Still she never seemed to tire of his company, and would stay with him for hours at an end. Every day he found that he hated it when she left all the more- because after she left, it normally didn't take long for the guards to come in and beat him up.

Whenever she came in to find him bleeding and hurt, it seemed to upset her terribly.

"Hold still," Rin said slowly, placing the wet cloth carefully on Ceren's left arm. He flinched, slightly, but made no attempt to resist as she cleaned the wound tenderly before wrapping a piece of white cloth around it. At least he wasn't snarling at her, she decided to herself. That used to be his reaction whenever she tried so much as to touch him in the first few days since she'd started visiting him. Now, either he had started to trust her, or he was too tired, too injured to snarl. Somehow she felt that it was the second one. Today was, after all, the first time she'd ever seen him in human form.

Had they beaten him up so badly last night that he was forced to revert to this form? It felt unnerving, at first. He was after all, completely naked. He didn't seem to think there was anything wrong, though, and judging by his wounds, she decided that he needed her.

And so here she was.

She hadn't expected him to look so handsome in his human form. Apart from the fact that his hair had grown long and matted and his beard was unkempt, there was an innocence about his eyes that made her forget that he ever was a werewolf.

When she was done treating his wounds, he backed off slightly and lay down on the cold, wet floor, curling up in a ball.

"I'm so sorry, Ceren," she muttered, moving closer to him. "I tried to get them to stop hurting you, but there's not much I can do. I'm just a servant…"

He answered with the only word he knew. "…Rin."

She touched him softly, stroking gently. "I'll try talking to the knights. I'll go to the Edge or the King even, if that's what it takes to get them to leave you alone."

Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered talking. As far as she was concerned, he never seemed to understand what she was saying. It was like talking to an animal, a dog, most of the time. Seeing him in his human form made the whole thing feel even worse. Seeing him act like an animal while in werewolf form was a lot more tolerable that seeing him try to snarl as a human.

She'd heard that magic was what had made him this way. And that no one knew exactly how to cure him.

Still she somehow wished, deep inside, that one day she'd be able to meet him for real. Meet him as the way he was before he became like this. Her friends discouraged her from her daily visits- reminding her he had been the reason for her being in the hospital wing for one whole month.

Yet still she wasn't afraid of him.

Somehow, she knew that there was something more to this man. She wanted to get to know him.

He was ignoring her now. Usually she could tell when he wanted to be left alone by whether he was looking at her or not. Now he only seemed to care about resting.

Making sure that the food was right where she'd left it, she stood up and knocked at the prison cell door. As the guard opened it for her, she spared him one last glance before she walked out, the door slamming shut behind her.

Behind her, Ceren was asleep and dreaming. Dreaming of the Master that had abandoned him, mostly, and vaguely, just vaguely he dreamt of another life, when he had been someone else. Before he had become this.

He cried in his sleep. Whether he cried out of sadness for being abandoned or for the life he had lost, he could never be sure.

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