Grey Lilies by Meli J Nightly (free ebooks for android .txt) 📖

PROLOGUE

December 19th, 2011
The 5th Period

Florence.

O

ur last, true bastion of sense.

It wasn't always this way, as the Master had foretold many times. There was a day, in the early seasons of the First Period, when Medici essentially ruled the world of sensory perception with his callings over art and literature...or rather, sight, touch, and mind. Men, such as Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci and Donato di Niccolò di Betto Bardi, the few who preceded them and the many who followed, reveled in this royally encouraged way of bringing mind and heart to the forefront of the human experience. One would think that our ancestors - the so-called Mages of the East - would only have enhanced this experience, this movement toward human clarity and purity on a seemingly global scale, when they brought their medicines to the land of the West. One could further say, with some level or another of justification, that their arrival bearing artwork and craftsmen, scholars and literature from all over the expanse of Asia - Mongolia, China, Japan, the far distant islands - enhanced the Renaissance experience tenfold, saturating the then-known world with an abundance of perception and thought. Others may say, with some justification themselves, that the introduction of their medicines, but one was more prolonged than the other. One that was given different names such as, ‘Lilium’ and ‘Nymph de Agua’ set the human race on an unnatural course through the longevity of the "enlightened" and the sickness and depravity of the masses. A simple flower mixed with different drugs to create one powerful medicine that would change humanity forever.

The true Renaissance masters, they have a vision as to what has yet to happen for the Sixth period, a prophecy, for lack of a better word...

"There will come a being...a human being...that will act as a clean canvas. He or she will be as white and pristine as the clouds of the sky, and no less evolving and ever shifting, searching for its most brilliant, everlasting shape before it recedes and reforms, searching again. This being...they will arise with no history, no previous expanse to dictate who they are, and no previous vision to demonstrate who they will be. And like the grey lilies rising in the warm, sweet fields of spring, this being will rise full and strong from the cold desolation of the past to cure the masses - royal and impoverished alike - of their ignorance, their cerebral diseases...their personal maladies that cloud their eyes and prevent them from seeing the world around them for what it is...infinite. This Grey Lily shall be our guide - yours, mine, and everyone's - to the Sixth Period, to rebirth and renewal..."

-Chapter 1-

Stairs. I remember falling from them. At least I think I do. It seems like a far off dream. Maybe it wasn't me who was falling from those stairs... But if felt so real. That man too... who is he? That man screaming my name... was it my name he was screaming? My name. I wonder.

T

he girl grimaced at the pain she felt when the sunlight blinded her completely. It was as if she had lived in a dark cave for years and was finally able to see the bright light. She closed her eyes once more trying to avoid the stinging pain and little by little she welcomed the light into her eyes, blinking many times to get her eyes comfortable to her surroundings.

"Where am I?" She asked no one in particular. But it wasn't that exact question she was most afraid of; it was by far a different one. "Who am I?" She looked around now utterly panicking. Confusion, loneliness, restlessness and a mixture of so many feelings bombarded her being.

"Oh! You're awake dear. That's just great! The young master will be so happy to know that you're just fine." An aged nurse came to her room with a cheery smile on her face.

Young master? Her head was spinning. Each time she forced herself to remember, the headache just grew stronger. She rocked back and forth with her head buried in her arms. The nurse reacted alarmed and screamed for a doctor to come over.

"What's going on? Samantha, are you okay? Can-you-understand-what-I-am-saying?" The doctor enunciated. Of course she understood what he was saying; she was not deaf or impaired. But that one name caught her attention...

"My name... my name is Samantha?"

The doctor and the old nurse looked at each other with confusion plastered on their faces. The man in the white coat approached her and began to question her.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked as if the answer should be yes.

"N-no."

"Do you remember me?" The old lady asked expectantly, also with a hint of the answer ‘yes’ in her tone of voice. Inside of her she believed she had to know them, but she couldn't remember them from where or when. Her head began to spin once again. She placed a hand on her forehead and the nurse gave the doctor a worried look.

"Okay. One more question. Do you know who you are?"

The girl’s eyes shot up; she shivered at the fact that she did not know how to answer that. Or more likely she knew the answer but she didn't like it. As a last effort she tried to play her name over and over in her mind. But she could not remember—the name Samantha did not trigger anything at all. "Why can't I remember anything?" She whispered.

"Its okay, Samantha. Don't force yourself, child. Do you know what this is?" The doctor picked up a vase with flowers.

"It's a vase. And those are lilies..." Somehow that triggered something in her mind. She remembered that she loved lilies. But she restrained herself from telling this to the doctor for she wasn't even sure of what was real and what wasn't.

"Good. Seems you haven't lost all of your memory, I'll be back with you in just a moment." With that the doctor left with the nurse right behind him.

The girl known as Samantha placed her head back against the pillow and watched the ceiling. Her mind completely blank.



"It seems that Samantha has lost part of her memory."

A tall, elegant man stared out the window. The doctor gulped when he saw the man clench his fists. "Will she ever recover her memory?"


"She might be able to recover it in due time... however we have received reports of cases in which the patient never recovers it." The doctor stepped back a few inches just in case the tall elegant man turned into a dangerous one, he was known for his violent nature after all.

But the tall man did nothing of that sort instead he took a deep breath and turned to the doctor. "I guess it is for the best. That she doesn't remember anything, that is. So she's not able to remember anyone, including me?"

"I believe so. She's able to remember all the normal things, like eating, taking care of herself. It looks like the only part that is missing is her past and of the people she has met. I have come to believe she has ‘Retrograde amnesia’,” the Dr. mentioned, waiting for the tall man to say something.

“What does that even mean?”

The doctor placed his hands inside his coat. He cleared his throat and tried to mentally put it into simpler words. “Retrograde amnesia is the loss of pre-existing memories to conscious recollection. This goes way beyond the degree of forgetfulness.” He paused for a moment to see if the man had any questions. When he found nothing but silence he continued. “The person might be able to memorize new things that occur after the onset of amnesia, but is unable to recall some or all of their life or identity before the onset occurred. Maybe there's something painful she really wanted to forget about and she ended up blocking all of her past while she was unconscious. Or maybe there was something she unconsciously did not want to forget, and in trying not to, her entire memory was affected. The mind has always been a mystery to us. We'll just have to see how she progresses. If I may ask..." he stopped for a moment, but he mustered up the courage to ask him, "What happened to her?"

The man walked past him and opened the door. Without turning around, and with a chilling tone he answered, "That does not concern you. Do not mention anything to Samantha. I will take her home tomorrow."

"But we still need to…" Without letting the doctor finish his explanation the door shut closed. “Run some tests…” he mumbled to no one. As always, he was left with words in his mouth.

Before leaving the hospital, the man decided to visit Samantha. As he was about to turn the knob on her door, he stopped to think about how he would feel when she couldn't recognize him... or worse, if she did. His hand stopped midway and suddenly he turned to leave. He would wait. “Until tomorrow. I will wait, Sam.”

Time for her went by oh so slowly. As if it were playing games with her. No one had come to see her and she was feeling lonely and afraid. As far as she knew she had no life. She could remember faint things, odd things, such as flowers. "I like lilies,” she spoke out loud. But she hated fish. How could she not remember she hated fish? She stared at the plate of barely bitten salmon on her table. It was sad to only remember a few things. "What if I'm allergic to something? I might die." She laughed at that thought. Right now it wouldn't matter if she died, for it was as if she hadn't lived at all. Having no memories was like... "I’m empty."


She grabbed her stomach softly with her hand as she walked down the long hallway of the hospital. Her nerves registered a sharp pain, she did not need to see her abdomen in order to realize she had tender bruises. If only she could remember how she’d gotten them. It would explain a lot. But no one was giving her any answers...in fact it seemed like the doctors and the nurses were avoiding her. But why? She wondered. The hallway was empty. It was like she was the only living soul there. No person in sight. After walking and walking, all she could think about was the one thing that bothered her; who was the young master that the elder nurse mentioned? And why wasn't he there to see her? What was she to him? And why was he to be happy that she was okay? Was it because he had something to do with what had happened to her? Or did he save her? There were so many questions, yet no answers.


A loud commotion caught her attention when a man stormed out of a room not far from where her's was. The man with a torn expensive suit and bandage around his head looked angry. Samantha stood still and sighed in relief as the man brushed past her.