Revenge of the Picklebacked Peas
He gently takes your hand and leads you to an illuminated hall right off of the courtyard. He motions for you to sit while saying, "Come, I am a little scared but we can talk."
"Who are you?" you ask.
"Prince Jonathan. Do you remember anything? We trained together every morning, practicing defenses, becoming skilled in self -defense. We fell in love." his voice is strained in his attempt to keep it even and his eyes are bright with held-back tears.
Something about him seems familiar but you can't place it. You look up at him, eyes filled with honesty, as you say, "I'm sorry I really don't remember anything. One second I was sitting in the main hall of my castle early in the morning and the next I found myself facing you in a courtyard at night. I know this must sound very strange but I am telling the truth."
"Of course you are." he says, "you have never lied to me, and I know you would never start"
Stroking your hair his eyes, filled with a desperate longing, catch yours and your mind is suddenly flooded with memories; fighting practice, walks in the gardens, parties. A picture begins forming in your mind but you can't quite focus it. Your head begins to pound and the world is slipping out of focus. Suddenly you drop to the floor, unconscious.
"Who are you?" you ask.
"Prince Jonathan. Do you remember anything? We trained together every morning, practicing defenses, becoming skilled in self -defense. We fell in love." his voice is strained in his attempt to keep it even and his eyes are bright with held-back tears.
Something about him seems familiar but you can't place it. You look up at him, eyes filled with honesty, as you say, "I'm sorry I really don't remember anything. One second I was sitting in the main hall of my castle early in the morning and the next I found myself facing you in a courtyard at night. I know this must sound very strange but I am telling the truth."
"Of course you are." he says, "you have never lied to me, and I know you would never start"
Stroking your hair his eyes, filled with a desperate longing, catch yours and your mind is suddenly flooded with memories; fighting practice, walks in the gardens, parties. A picture begins forming in your mind but you can't quite focus it. Your head begins to pound and the world is slipping out of focus. Suddenly you drop to the floor, unconscious.