The next morning Melane found herself answering intense and seemingly impossible questions in front of the man and woman from the day before. By now, Melane had conjectured that they were the Lioness and the Mage, Numair Salmalin, who was wanted very badly by Ozrone. And she was afraid.
The Lioness asked her one more grueling and meaningless question. "What is your pony's name?" and Melane burst into tears. Between her sobs she gasped, "I-don't even-HAVE-a-a pony!" The Lioness stalked off towards the river they were camped on, and the two remaining could hear her taking out her frustration on innocent plants and rocks. However, only one understood why.
Numair sighed. "Magelet," he shook his head. "Don't you remember your past? Who Ozrone is? Do you even know that you have magic?!?!?!?!"
Melane looked at him quizicly. "I don't."
The man looked to the sky in frustration. "I taught you MYSELF!" he yelled, then seemed to calm himself down. He breathed shallowly for a few minutes, until he turned to her yet again. She was cowering away from him.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I was trying to be more patient." He smiled slightly. "But isn't there anything in your so-called memory that doesn't add up? Anything that doesn't fell, well, right to you?"
Melane shook her head immediately. "The only thing that doesn't seem right here is you kidnapping me AGAIN!"
Numair glared at her and walked away. She wondered why they didn't tie her up. She could just get up and walk away!
Ozrone glared with hatred at the window showing him his captive and Salmalin. He's ruining everything! Ozrone thought. "Ah, but you have not yet won, Numair, for the spell is not yet broken, and it is, coming from me, of course, impossible to break. You may have the girl, but she will always be loyal to me!" he said softly.
Numair looked up from the path he was walking and stared at Ozrone eerily, as if he could see him. "Always?" he repeated quietly. "I think not!"
Ozrone was astounded. But..but...but..how-how did he? "Watch out Draper. With your boorish benightedness you will bring the downfall of not only you and your lover," he stressed with distaste, "but also, Tortall's."
Numair returned to the campsite and headed for Alanna's tent. He stopped at the doorway, and when she came out he gave her a small (very very very small) smile. "It's just not working," he sighed. "I think we should take her back to Tortall. Maybe seeing people and animals she knows will restore her memory. It's possible..." he let the sentance hang.
Alanna looked at him fearfully. "But amnesia can be broken, can't it?"
Numair shook his head. "That's no amnensia, my dear Lioness, our <>dear<> friend Ozrone managed to put a very powerfull memory charm on her," he growled fiercely.
A few weeks later, they were back in Tortall, yet nothing seemed to be working. Not seeing Cloud, ("I've never seen that pony in my life!") or Kitten ("Wow, isn't it a beauty. What's it called?"), or Tkaa ("Who is THAT?"), or even her old friend Onua or the King.
Jon decided to give it a go himself, but nothing he said or did could provoked a reaction. He brought in Tortall's best mages (pretty useless, as Numair was the best in the country) who gave her tests and pokes like an experiment. Numair soon sent them away. "They aren't helping," he told Jon.
Meanwhile, Melane was NOT adjusting to Tortall. She didn't seem a bit like Daine.
Finally, Numair just gave up. He turned to Alanna, Jon, Onua, and a few other friends who were in the room. "I give up," he told them. "I want to talk to her one last time," he paused, seeming to wipe his eyes as he gave a brief cough, "And tomorrow," he sighed, "We're sending her back to Carthak."
Numair felt like crying, looking at his poor Daine, corrupted. He knew it was impossible to return her memory. The spell was just too powerfull. He whispered mostly to himself, "Oh Daine, you will never know how much I love you, how much I long to have you in my arms, how I dream every night of you..." With that he leaned over in a sudden and impromptu show of affection, he leaned over and threw his arms around her. He began kissing her with a passion that stirred a note in Melane's chest.
She didn't struggle, and when he pulled away, she commented simply, "Wow, Numair, I never knew you cared. And what am I doing in this horrid dress? Aren't there any breeches about?"
Numair's eyes goggled in shock. "Daine?" he asked in a cracked voice.
She gave him a look that plainly said she thought he was an idiot. "Well, who else would I be?" she asked sarcasticly.
"Melane?" Numair answered carefully.
Daine blinked. "Never heard of her!" she quickly responded.
Numair grinned, and threw his arms around her again. "You really are back! I guess true love conquers all!"
Daine looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Are you trying to tell me something? And what are you talking about? I'm getting strange vibes, here."
Numair began to tell her what had happened, when he was interested by a booming voice as a shimmery image appeared in the fireplace.
"You may have won the girl (useless as she is), but you have not won the war! And you never will. You hear that, Draper? You will never, ever defeat me as long as I live, I promise it! You think your power greater than mine, but NO ONE can defeat the Emperor Mage!" and with that, Ozrone's image vanished.
Daine laughed nervously. "He seemed a little bit angry," she announced.
Numair held her tight. "I don't care, for I have you back with me now." "Daine," he began again, lifting her chin gently, "I have always loved you. And I always will."
Daine smiled and placed her lips over his. "Then stop talking," she ordered.
They kissed deeply and insistently, and Numair found himself holding his exhausted and rapidly drowsing off love. "I'm sorry, Numair, but I didn't sleep...a...wink last nigh-" she murmmered with a sweet smile as she slept in Numair's arms.
Numair sighed, and kissed her forehead in a good night kiss. "And things were just getting interesting!" He carried her to her chambers and layed her gently on the bed for a deep, deep sleep.
