Sneak Peek – Shadows of Memory

The wind stirred the treetops, rustling the leaves in a melody Sebastian had grown fond of as he trudged through the forest. The crunch of fallen compost beneath his feet slowed as the ground sloped. With his wings folded tight against his broad back, he paused, nostrils flaring as he caught an unfamiliar scent on the breeze—something sweet yet smoky, like embers doused by fruit nectar.

Adjusting the leather straps on his waist, he secured his sword at his side. Bo perched on his shoulder. The ball of fluff was about a foot long, with five inches making up his fluffy tail, brindle-colored fur, sharp claws for climbing trees, and a fleshy membrane extending from his wrist to his ankle, allowing him to glide through the air. The small animal chittered, its round eyes darting around.

“We need to set up camp; the sun is setting.” Dot tucked a well-worn pencil behind her ear, her maps rustling beneath her fingers.

Bo’s whiskers twitched, vibrating with a tension that made Sebastian’s muscles coil. The tiny creature’s gaze fixed on something beyond the visible horizon.

“What is it?” Sebastian withdrew his sword. The fluffy critter leaped off his shoulder.

“Bo! Wait!” Sebastian hurried after him, careful not to outpace Dot, who struggled to keep up on her short legs.

The woods thinned ahead, revealing a clearing beside the river. Sebastian slowed his pace, dropping into a defensive crouch as he approached the treeline. Bo had already reached the opening, circling something—or someone—lying motionless by the water’s edge.

Sebastian’s breath hitched. A female lay unconscious on the riverbank, her brilliant red hair spread out around her like flames against the dark earth. Even from a distance, something about her called to him—a sensation he’d never experienced before, like a tug deep within his soul.

“What is it? What did that troublemaker find now?” Dot, a diminutive gnome with bright pink hair twisted into an elaborate braid and a perpetual frown etched on her round face, panted as she caught up.

“Stay here,” he instructed her. The gnome scowled and crossed her small arms over her chest.

“As if I’d rush into danger,” she grumbled, settling cross-legged on a boulder. She unfolded one of her intricately drawn maps, squinting at the markings. “Another delay? Another animal to save?”

Sebastian glanced down at his companion. Dot used her free hand to swat at bugs.

She huffed dramatically. “Chief Orry is going to owe me a lifetime supply of mushroom pies for this expedition. I’m an acrobat who can draw a decent map, pretendin’ to be a cartographer, not some hero!”

Sebastian’s lips twitched with amusement. Despite her grumblings, Dot took immense pride in her maps and in being selected for this quest.

Protective instincts overriding the gnome’s complaints, Sebastian crept forward, every sense heightened.

The scent grew stronger—pointed ears, fair skin, slender, angular face with high cheekbones. A fire elf, he guessed. Yet beneath that smoky aroma lingered something else, something that tightened his chest and caught his breath. Her fragrance didn’t resemble that of a gargoyle; instead, it held an undeniable pull, a sweetness of berries mingled with an unfamiliar note.

Mate.

The word flashed through his mind like lightning—unbidden and shocking. Sebastian shook his head, trying to clear it. Impossible. His kind mated for life, yes, but, as far as he knew, always with other gargoyles—not with elves.

Bo hopped close, sniffing the female’s face and chittering with concern. Sebastian knelt beside her, wincing at the gash across her temple and the cuts along her arms, her simple dress remained immaculate, without even a stain. She appeared to have been swept downstream, perhaps caught in the river’s current during yesterday’s storm.

Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and relief flooded through him—alive, at least. Frowning, he turned her over. Bruises bloomed on her pale skin, and his gaze lingered on the delicate curve of her jaw.

“Is she dead?” Dot called from the edge of the clearing, still clutching her maps.

“No, but she needs help,” Sebastian replied, sheathing his sword and checking the woman for broken bones. Finding none, he gathered wood from nearby and arranged it for a fire.

His fingers trembled as he worked. Facing dangers without fear had never rattled him, but females always had a way of making him uneasy. This unconscious stranger, in particular, had unsettled him deeply.

Bo darted around them, chirruping urgently before disappearing into the woods again. Sebastian lifted the woman’s hand from the water, noting how the river water seemed to shrink away from her skin, leaving it dry despite its submersion.

“Strange,” he murmured, brow furrowing. Picking her up and carrying her into the forest, he moved from the vibrant world above to the hushed intimacy of the trees. The last vestiges of sunset clung to the horizon—a fiery palette of orange and purple—before yielding to the encroaching darkness.

“What’s strange is you playin’ nursemaid instead of completin’ our mission,” Dot called, trudging toward them. She stopped short. “A fire elf.”

“She’s injured.” Sebastian laid the female down and gathered kindling for a campfire.

“I want to go home!” the gnome huffed.

“We can’t leave her here.” He turned to the gnome. “And it’s night.”

A massive shadow suddenly eclipsed the forest floor, briefly blocking out what little moonlight filtered through the trees.

“Shh!!” Sebastian’s hands moved swiftly. He dropped the kindling, scooping the unconscious elf into his arms with tenderness. Cradling her close, he retreated into the dense undergrowth.

Dot stumbled into the thicket, her small form trembling beside him. A monstrous roar ripped through the air, vibrating through the very earth below them. The sound dredged up a storm of memories—vivid and terrifying: the horrifying juguai, its destructive power, its insatiable hunger.

Pale green, bulbous faces hidden beneath grimy hair, enormous mouths filled with yellow, razor-sharp teeth that could tear through gargoyle flesh, and dark, soulless eyes. Beasts that would turn to stone under direct sunlight or lightning but were relentless in their pursuit of gargoyle females.

They’re always after our kind. His muscles coiled with tension.

A sudden, unnatural wind whipped through the trees. Unlike the gentle breeze from earlier, this gust carried a piercing intensity. It howled between the limbs, bending branches and sending leaves spiraling in violent spirals.

Sebastian pulled his companions closer. “Don’t move,” he whispered, the words a physical effort against his fighting spirit. He folded his wings around them, creating a living shield.

Maybe we’ve found the right area, he thought. I might be able to rescue any surviving females from these wretched beasts.

Muscles tense, he readied to fight and gripped his sword. Dot reached out and held his hand. Discipline tempered his battle rage.

His gaze fell to the unconscious woman—her pale skin rising and falling with shallow breaths. Beside her, Dot trembled, small and vulnerable. If he charged into an unseen fight and failed, they would be defenseless. His impulsiveness could mean their death.

More importantly, his mission from King Quinn and Queen Ana was clear: locate the juguai cave and return with reinforcements. Lone gallantry would compromise everything.

The roar came again—closer this time. A hunter prowled, searching. Sebastian could hear the slow, deliberate movement of something massive pushing through the leafy canopy, branches cracking under immense weight.

Dot pressed herself against his side, her small body trembling. Bo went silent.

Each moment was a battle within Sebastian—the warrior yearning to confront the threat, and the protector knowing his primary duty was to those who depended on him. Survival, not heroics, mattered now.

Minutes stretched like hours. Sebastian didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare move, listening to the predatory sounds that faded into the distance.

When silence finally returned, he lifted his wing. “I think it’s gone,” he murmured, his voice a mix of relief and lingering tension.

They emerged from their hiding place, moving with careful, measured steps deeper into the woods. Sebastian selected a spot beneath a dense tree, creating a pit designed to disperse smoke—a technique that would help mask them from whatever had been hunting them.

Once the kindling was arranged, he struggled momentarily with the flint, distracted by the woman’s presence. Within moments, he had coaxed a small spark. As he carried the unconscious female closer to the warmth, the fire surged, flames leaping higher as if reaching for her. Sebastian nearly dropped her in surprise but steadied himself, setting her on his blanket near the blaze.

Sebastian glanced at the female, then back at the campfire. It seemed to lean in her direction, as though drawn to her. His conviction about her being a fire elf deepened.

“Who are you?” he whispered, not expecting an answer.

With a gentle touch, Sebastian cleaned her wounds with water from his flask, applied ointment, and bound them with bark strips. All the while, Dot paced and muttered about delays and responsibilities. Bo returned and curled up near the woman’s shoulder, his tiny body rising and falling in rhythm with her breaths.

Night deepened, and Sebastian remained watchful. The firelight danced across the elf’s delicate features, painting her in shifting hues. He found himself studying her, a stark contrast to his own reflection. He’d never considered himself handsome, not in the way other gargoyles were. His features were too sharp, too angular. Beside this ethereal creature, her skin glowing in the fire’s warmth, he felt a sudden, unsettling sense of his own monstrousness.

Dot had long since discovered a comfortable rock and was snoring.

A soft moan broke the night’s stillness. Sebastian tensed as her eyelids fluttered, then opened fully, revealing her red eyes.

Their gazes locked across the fire.

* * *

Aurora

Pain. It throbbed dully at her temples and stung with sharp bites across her arms and torso. Then there was warmth—welcome heat to counteract the bone-deep chill that seemed to have settled into her core.

Consciousness returned in fragments—the distant rush of water, a crackling sound. She opened her eyes to dancing flames, and for a heartbeat, she believed she was still dreaming.

Then she saw him.

A male crouched beyond the fire, wings folded against broad shoulders, tail twitching behind him. The firelight caught in his eyes, fixed on her face. Leather pants hugged his muscular legs, and his smooth chest was bare, revealing rippling muscles. A sword, its hilt gleaming, rested at his side.

Her heart hammered. Fear, sharp and immediate, clenched her stomach. Scrambling backward, she ignored the pain shooting through her limbs. Her hand went to her temple, where the dull ache intensified.

“Stay back!” she warned, her voice hoarse. She threw out her hand to stop him. To her surprise, flames leaped from her fingertips, coiling around her hands like loyal serpents. She gasped and shook out her hand, staring at it.

A gnome jumped to her feet, a boomerang in her grip. “What’s goin’ on?”

The male froze, remaining still except for a slight tilt of his head. “You’re safe,” he said, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “You were hurt.” He averted his gaze, looking at the ground.

She glanced at her bandaged arms and then back at the imposing figure. On the ground near her, something warm and furry nuzzled against her leg with a comforting chirp. She jerked away.

“He won’t harm you.” The male held out a hand, palm open, as if to calm her. “You were unconscious by the river.” He nodded toward the water. “You’re lucky I found you.”

The mention of the river caused her breath to hitch. She didn’t know why, but a cold chill wrapped around her heart at the thought of it. The river. Something had happened there, something she couldn’t quite grasp, yet she was terrified of it.

With a parched throat burning, she swallowed against the dryness and swept her gaze over the strangely handsome figure before her. Muscles tensed beneath tan skin, he radiated a vulnerability that belied his imposing frame. Shyness clung to him like mist, softening the breadth of his shoulders. Each movement was calculated, each glance tentative—he seemed more uncertain of himself than she was of him.

The subtle tremble of his massive hands and the way his brown eyes darted away when their gazes met directly spoke volumes. Here was a warrior—evident from the sword at his side and his battle-ready posture—who carried an incongruous gentleness.

“What are you?” She raised an eyebrow.

A flash of something—hurt?—crossed the creature’s face before he answered. “My name is Sebastian. I’m a gargoyle.” He gestured to his companions. “This is Dot, a gnome cartographer, and that’s Bo. He seems quite taken with you.”

The small creature trilled happily, as if understanding its introduction. Despite her fear, her lips twitched upward. She reached hesitantly to stroke the soft fur, and Bo pressed into her touch.

“And you are?” Sebastian stood and moved closer.

“I…I can’t remember.” She clutched her head, tears stinging her eyes. Everything remained frustratingly blank. Who was she? Where had she come from? Why was she by the water? Why did the sound of the rushing river behind her send ice through her veins, even as heat flickered at her fingertips?

“What do you remember?” The gnome—Dot—rolled up a parchment with unnecessary force.

The elf shook her head, wincing at the pain the movement caused. “Nothing…I can’t remember anything.” Her gaze darted around the unfamiliar area, a cold dread creeping in. More unsettling than the blank slate of her memory was the invisible thread, taut and insistent, that tugged her attention towards the stoic gargoyle. It was a phantom touch, a warmth blooming in her chest that had no right to be there, a silent call that resonated deep within her bones, making her breath catch.

“Nothing at all?” Sebastian prompted when she remained silent, shuffling his feet.

“No,” she sighed, her attention caught by the dancing blaze. Something about the fire called to her, familiar and comforting. Without conscious thought, she extended her hand toward it. The flames leapt in response, a tendril breaking away to curl around her fingers like an affectionate cat, warming but not scorching.

Sebastian gasped, and she yanked her hand back, the campfire returning to normal. She stared at her palm.

“So you’re a gargoyle,” she said, the word stirring no recognition in her. “And you think I might be…?”

“A fire elf, perhaps,” he suggested. “Though, your eyes…” He frowned slightly. “They’re unusual for a fire elf.”

Aurora’s hand drifted to her face. “What color are they?”

“Red,” Sebastian answered. “Fire elves typically have amber eyes.”

“So I’m an elf.” One answer down in a sea of emptiness. Grabbing a lock of her hair, she inspected the red strands and then shrugged, the weight of her lost memories pressing on her. “What are you doing here?” She tilted her head. What am I doing here?

“I am on a journey.” The male lifted his chin. “I search for the female gargoyles taken by the juguai.”

“And I’m mappin’ the terrain as we go,” Dot added, tapping her scrolls.

“Juguai?” She scratched her head.

“Yes, monstrous creatures you wouldn’t want to meet. Vicious teeth, massive claws, and arms as thick as trees,” Dot answered.

“How are you…?” Sebastian trailed off, clearly struggling to understand.

The elf stared at her hand, cradling the flames again. The heat from it felt natural, like she had done it a thousand times before. “I don’t know.” She jerked her hand back quickly. “But I can’t stop it. It’s like it’s…calling me.”

A sharp breath escaped her. Her pulse raced, memories flickering in and out like fragmented pieces of a shattered mirror. As if responding to her tumultuous emotions, the sparks around her fingers surged higher, causing Sebastian to jerk back.

“Impressive,” Dot muttered, though she hardly sounded impressed. “Now that we’ve established she’s a mystery wrapped in an enigma with a side of amnesia, perhaps we can discuss more pressin’ matters? Like how to get home?”

Sebastian shot the gnome a warning look before turning back.

The elf glanced around, struggling to process this information while fighting the fog in her mind. Should she trust them? The gargoyle’s imposing figure—bare-chested except for crossed leather straps, worn pants, and the large sword propped against a nearby tree—would have been terrifying under any circumstances. Yet something in those brown eyes sparked recognition deep within her.

Bo leapt to Sebastian’s shoulder, chittering excitedly. The small creature’s antics drew a reluctant smile from her.

“Bo likes you,” Sebastian said, smiling. “He’s usually shy around strangers.”

“Where…” Her voice emerged as a rasp, her throat raw and painful. She swallowed and tried again. “Where am I?”

He reached for a waterskin and offered it to her. “By a river in the northern mountains, about two days’ journey from the nearest village. I found you unconscious at the riverbank.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m Sebastian.”

“Yes, you told me that already.” She chuckled.

The elf accepted the waterskin, noticing how carefully he moved, as if afraid of startling her. She sniffed its contents first, and when comfortable, she put it to her lips. The man had had plenty of opportunities to kill her while she slept.

As she drank, she observed him more closely. His intimidating form should have terrified her, yet something about his careful movements and the softness in his eyes contradicted his warrior’s appearance.

“Thank you.” She returned the waterskin. “I’m…” She froze, panic rising in her chest. Nothing. Where her name should be, there was only an empty void. Where her past should be, only fragments remained—sensations without context, emotions without memories. “I don’t…I can’t remember who I am.”

The elf’s gaze traced the line of Sebastian’s form, discovering unexpected grace in his movements. Each gesture revealed a tender contradiction—a warrior’s strength tempered by remarkable gentleness. Settling near the fire’s glow, he drew a whetstone from his pack and began methodically cleaning his blade, the rhythmic sound of metal against stone creating a meditative counterpoint to the crackling flames.

“What shall you do?” Sebastian asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “Once you’re healed enough to travel?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but a sudden spasm ripped through her body. Images flashed behind her eyes—water closing over her head, the desperate scorch in her lungs, darkness pulling her down, down, down…

When the vision receded, she found herself trembling, one hand clutched to her throat. Sebastian had moved to her side of the fire, one massive hand hovering near her shoulder.

“I nearly drowned,” she whispered, the realization crashing over her. “The river—I remember the river closing over me.”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed. “You are safe now.”

Their eyes met again across the small space between them, shared confusion and curiosity bridging the gap.

She took a steadying breath. “I don’t know where to go,” she admitted. “I don’t know who I am or why I’m here. But…” She glanced toward the river, suppressing a shudder. “I feel drawn to follow it, as if answers lie downstream.”

“That’s the direction we’re headed,” Sebastian said. After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “You could join us until your memory returns.”

“Or we can go back home,” Dot interjected, though with less venom than before.

The elf studied the unlikely trio: the massive, solemn gargoyle, the irritable gnome, and the cheerful little Bo who now curled in her lap. Strangers, yet somehow safer than the emptiness in her mind. Though she was unsure why, the thought of parting from this strange, gentle gargoyle filled her with inexplicable dread.

“I’d like that,” she decided, surprising herself with the rightness of the words.

Sebastian nodded, relief evident in the slight relaxation of his shoulders. He returned to his side of the fire, but his gaze lingered on her face.

As stars wheeled overhead and the fire burned low, the elf caught Sebastian watching her with an expression that stirred something within her—longing, a connection she couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny.

Memory erupted like a violent storm: pain, fleeing, cold water crushing, darkness devouring, lungs burning with desperate struggle. Her body seized, arching against an invisible torrent, muscles twisting as if still fighting the phantom waves. Raw terror clawed through her veins, a primal scream trapped in her throat. The world fractured and reassembled.

At first, her vision swam—blurred edges, indistinct shapes bleeding into one another. A shadowy figure loomed against the firelight, its outline wavering like a mirage. As her focus slowly crystallized, details emerged: broad shoulders, a face etched with concern.

Sebastian stood perfectly still. His hand hovered inches from her, close enough to offer support but distant enough to avoid overwhelming her. Warm brown eyes—deep with emotion, soft with unexpected gentleness—watched her intently. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I remembered something.” Though still trembling, she calmed. “The river. I was fleeing from something. Or someone. I fell in.” She closed her eyes, trying to grasp the fleeting images, but the memory slipped away like water through her fingers.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“I think I remember my name.” She twisted her lips. “It’s Aurora.”