Memosa
Legacy Name: Memosa

You feel a small tap on your left shoulder; you turn to face it.
“Ahh, sage of Folaigh, I did indeed find you.”
A creaky voices pokes out from a petite woman. Her hair is fuzzy and a creamy grey. Large, antique frames rest upon her freckled nose.
“I have so much to tell you,” she says. “Please, come with me.”


….
“Watch your head,”
You half duck, half bend over, and enter a small home. It is dark, but as you entered, you noticed the silhouette of a garden upon the roof.
“You are so taaalllll” she says.
You smile shyly, disregarding her words. She is just really, very short.
“You must be wondering who I am,” She laughs.
“Among other things,” you smile and nod.
“Mhm mhm, they say you are filled with wonder. I can tell they are right. Well pardon my manner, I am Memosa, (my friends call me Mossy, but I don’t know if you’re one of those yet, so just call me Memosa) and youu,”
she scoots closer to you and taps your nose,
“youuu are the sage of Folaigh. The bees have been buzzing about you, you know. You are the newest sage, and to Folaigh even, one of our youngest ancients. I have been dying to meet you.” She laughs several times.
You are unaware of the joke but offer up a courteous smile.

"Okay now, make yourself comfortable dear. I'll get you a beverage."
Memosa stands from her chair and scurries to the cupboard. From a large bottle containing a mysterious brew, she fills two teacups just below the brim.
Returning, she hands you one of the cups and takes a gulp from the other. You tip it towards your mouth - the drink smells horribly sweet, almost rotten, and sour as well - like pickled honeysuckle. Smiling, you pretend to take a sip.
"Why is it you asked me here, Memosa? Why do you have an interest in me?"
"Drink and I will tell you child. The world will unfold before you, just drink. I saw your throat pretending to swallow. I wasn't sprouted yesterday." She winks at you.
You force yourself to drink form the cup. Huh, not so bad. Strange, very strange...but not so bad...
"Mmm," you mutter, almost enjoying, but mostly confused, "what's in this?"
"Secret recipe!" She laughs. "Good isn't it? Fresh from my forest. Well...maybe not fresh. Local though!"
She stands and you notice her cup is empty. She comes back from the cupboard with the bottle. She fills your cup, what little room there is to fill, then takes a drink from the bottle herself.
"Anyway, the whole of us have heard about you, sage. I just wanted to see you with my own eyes. And now I have. You didn't disappoint, I think I'll say. But goodness you are quiet. Folaigh is quiet too though, isn't she? So it's no surprise I suppose."
You smile, trying to be polite, but still you feel confused - who exactly is "the whole of us?"
Trying to align your thoughts, you ask,
"Who are you though?"
"I'm Memosa, weren't you paying attention?" Her brow furrows.
"No of course, I know your name, but who are you, actually?"
"Are you drinking? You need to be drinking."
You nod and your vision sparkles a bit.
"Mhm. Mhm. Good," she says, "drink more." She pours more into your cup. "I doubt Laoise told you of me. I am normally hidden from newcomers. I am the only keeper in the realm without an arasyad, and as such I have been shunned. Are you drinking?"

"Yes, I'm drinking it. Lovely." You try to politely turn your lips upward after a forced gulp.
"But I don't understand," you say, your throat burns slightly from the strange drink. "I was told keepers die with their ancients, is this not true?"
"Well yes sage, it is usually true. Except for me....
I had a wonderful ancient. A persnickety creature of the night he was - a raccoon.
I'm sure you've learned of the forces the ancients control. Your Folaigh, for example, controls the paradoxical force of the earth - both blood and bloom. My ancient, Pinchas, controlled the darker side of an earthen force. He was the master of death and decay, of creating new life from the remains of old. He is why I live today. Many ancients disagreed with his practices, especially those who consider themselves of the light...those afraid of dark, really.
Mhm mhm.
One of them got involved -- made an example out of Pinchas."
She frowns, her face is both sad and angry.
"They banished him to the underworld. They said he corrupted the land above." She scoffs.
"As his keeper, I was to go with him, but he cared much about me. He still cares. He used his forces to shield me from death. He wrapped me up in a cocoon of immortality. I would have protested, of course - I understood my role and duty as a keeper, but he blamed himself for being born strange. He blamed himself for being born on the under belly of the light. He protected me before I knew what was even happening."
She chugs several ounces from the bottle, blinking over and over again, then shoves it to you. Out of empathy, you drink quite a bit too, and more than intended.
"So...here I am. Alive and alone. But that's what any of us are, no?" She giggles. "Ignorance."
A hiccup comes quickly from her gut, then from yours.
She laughs, squeaking and snorting in between. "Strong stuff!"


- * - * - * - * -


You awaken to stiff bones and a sore neck. Memosa is towering over you with every inch of her four foot nothing height, and staring at you curiously.
"You were ouuuttttt, out out. I thought maybe your kind hibernated and I didn't know it. Want breakfast?"
You groan and kind of clear your throat.
"Uhh....how long was I asleep?" Your fingers fumble through your skewed hair.
Memosa laughs.
"Few days kiddo, maybe a week. I don't have a calendar." Plates clatter from her cupboards.
"A week?! What exactly did I drink?"
"I told you sagey, it's simply things from the forest. Your body just isn't used to the combinations. You're fine, but you need to dust off."
She comes back to the pile of blankets in which you’re tangled and hands you a cup of tea.
“Mmm, no. I don’t want to drink anything else.”
Memosa laughs loudly, “it’s just chamomile, relax.”
You take a sip and a familiar tastes swathes your tongue. You are put at ease.
You look up from the tea and Memosa is staring at you, as if she is unaware of the awkwardness.
“So uh…” you try to break the silence but the uncomfortable feeling does not fade, “what happened to the ancient that killed Pinchas?”
“Oh,” Memosa says, as if someone had just pinched her, “well he was killed.”
“Killed?” You say, trying to pry a bit more out of her.
She nods. “Yes, killed. Staves took him.”
You can tell she doesn’t want to talk about the subject, but you can’t leave it now.
“Who is Staves?”
“He’s the god of the ancients… He grows the world upon his back. I thought Laoise surely would have told you that.”
“She didn’t” you ponder her statement “….the god of the ancients? Can you tell me more of him?”
“You will gain knowledge of him soon enough, but I’ll do what I can to keep your curiosity at rest.
Staves, as I said, is the god of the anicents, and in a way, the highest ancient. He breathed the first breath into all ancients’ lungs. He is the creator of balance. All things in this world must have an overlaying balance, or he destroys it. Dasco,” she scrunches her nose, as if the name tastes bitter, “the ancient that killed Pinchas, was corrupted beyond the balancing point. Therefore, Staves killed him.”
You nod slowly as you work over her words in your mind.
“Are you satisfied with that? Can we move on from this talk of murder and vengeance?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
She makes a motion with her hand, “I know you’re curious, not your fault.”
The two of you sit in an awkward silence for a brief moment before it is interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Memosa?” Folaigh calls out.
Memosa straightens up, her eyes widening.
“We have company, sagey!” she says with a large grin.
Memosa runs outside to greet Folaigh, and you follow, standing stiffly.
“Why hi there Folaigh!” Memosa says, with a genuine, welcoming tone.
Folaigh laughs softly, “Hello Memosa, did you have a nice time meeting my sage?”
“Mhm mhm,” Memosa jitters, “a very nice person you have here.”
Folaigh walks past Memosa and speaks to you, “are you ready to return now?”
You nod. You thank Memosa for offering her home to you, and put a hand on her small shoulder,
“keep in touch,” you say, sensitive to her feeling of not belonging.
A warm smile unfolds across Memosa’s face as she nods to you.
“Bye bye!” Memosa waves as you and Folaigh walk away.


-*-*-*-


As the two of you walk farther away, you ask Folaigh about your visit with Memosa.
“How did you know I was with her?”
Folaigh stops and faces you, looking at you with cordiality. Reaching her muzzle towards you, she lifts your open palm, revealing the faint sigil.
“You and I are connected now,” she says. “You have the mark of the sage upon you. It isn’t just for decoration.” She smiles. “It allows me to know where you are, and in time, you will be able to use it to know where I am as well.”
“But I was gone for a week?” You ask, confused.
Folaigh lets forth the largest laugh that you have heard from her lapin lips.
“Is that was she told you?” her words still falling out around her chuckles, “You were only gone for a night.”
“Oh…” you join Folaigh in her laughter, bewildered by Memosa’s matchlessness.