Apocalypse Rising 041512


Stone wall of an English barn
Stone wall of an English barn (Photo credit: Wikipedia)



“Justine?” I roll the name around in my mind and come up blank. “I don’t know a Justine. Are you sure that is what I was saying?”

“Are you sure?” Gloriana asks? “You were quite animated.”

“Let me think,” I say before I force myself into a trance. I search through my memories and find nothing. There is not a single mention of a Justine, anywhere within my mind, but in my search, I discover blank spaces in my recent memory, as if entire thoughts had been removed by force. I search through my mind until I find a small corner, blocked off by a wall that I did not build.

I probe the edges of the wall, looking for a psychic signature or anything else that might tell me who had altered my mind. The barrier is crude, but strong. It was built with magic, a spell triggered by my awakening. Someone did not want me to remember the events leading up to today, and they hid their tracks very well. Whoever created the memory trap and barrier was skilled, but they had forgotten how strong I could be when I wasn’t in mortal form. I had not flexed my mystical muscles since the inquisition, and I looked forward to dismantling the assault upon my mind.

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