I The Forgotten One Novels & Stories

The Forgotten Name The memory fought to surface. Thomas could feel it. Like something trapped beneath ice. Something old. Something desperate. Something that had waited years for this exact moment. Then the pain returned. Worse than before. His vision blurred. The battlefield vanished. The collapsing kingdom disappeared. The voices faded. Everything became white. Pure white. Silent. Still. Then a voice spoke. Not the creature's. Not the Keeper's. Not Ava's. A child's voice. His voice.

"Remember the Forgotten." The world dissolves. I am standing in a field of grey. Wolves surround me, their faces blank, their eyes empty. They are the Forgotten. "We remember you," I say. "We remember your names. Your faces. Your histories. You are not gone. You are not erased. You are remembered." The Forgotten weep. Their faces fill with color. Their eyes brighten. "You have saved us," one of them says. "You have brought us back." The ritual ends.

A faint, peppery sting rose into my sinuses. I let a small frown slip right in front of Kane. Then I turned to Selena, eyes wide and guileless. "Selena, did you put Mnemowort rootstock in this potion?" She froze, as if she hadn't expected me to notice. Still, even with her ploy laid bare, not a flicker of panic crossed her face. If anything, she squared her shoulders, righteous as ever. Selena met my eyes, her voice threaded with challenge and pride. "So what if I did? The healer said Mnemowort can rouse an injured wolf and help Kane recall the past. Don't you want Kane to get his memory back, Beta Isla?"

I said, keeping my voice down. His dark blue eyes seemed to soften when he looked at me. Robert stood by the door, watching us like a hawk. I wished he would come and stand next to me. “Anna,” the old man said. I raised a brow. I was about to wonder how he knew my name then I remembered he was a Fetterman. They ruled the city. There was nothing those people couldn’t find out. “I appreciate you receiving me on such short notice.” Feeling self-conscious, I watched as he looked around the room and his eyes moved to the hallway.

I stood at the living room and felt the cold settle into my bones. Once, I had walked toward him without hesitation. Once, I had believed his kneeling meant devotion. I called him. It rang for a long time before he answered. The background was loud — men talking, glasses clinking, music faint in the distance. “Yes?” His tone was distracted. “Come home,” I said. “Not now!” I closed my eyes for a moment. “Alessandro,” I said evenly, “do you remember what today is?” Silence. Then his voice shifted, just slightly.

I cross my arms, slowly shaking my head like that'll shield me from how absurd it all sounds. There's no way in hell that's true, because if it were, Kruska wouldn't have been able to steal him away so easily and he wouldn't have been able to do all those vile, malicious things he did to me. That's right. I can't afford to forget. Every bruise, every beating, every scream of pain, every horrible birth and the nights I starved just because of a mistake that took out the evil.

Just because she'd left the place he'd first found her in, that didn't mean she'd left him. Elizabeth shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, Phillip," Elizabeth promised him fiercely. She stood on tiptoe on his feet, pressing her face close against his, like she'd done so many often in their time spent together. "I am waiting for you, I promise." Phillip pulled her closer to him, almost lifting her off his feet, and she felt his familiar warmth. "I know," he whispered into her ear. "I know you've never stopped loving me. But I think you will still forget me, and when you see me again, you won't know who I am."

The same woman they had cast out hours ago now stood before them, her posture unwavering, her gaze unflinching. Kael’s silver eyes locked onto hers, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, there was only silence between them, thick and suffocating. Then, he stepped toward her. “You again,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low. “Didn’t I tell you to leave?” Ayla met his gaze, unafraid. “You did,” she admitted. “But I also told you I was a healer. And right now, your warrior is dying.” Kael’s stare was like ice—sharp, cutting. His gaze flickered toward the injured man, whose breaths were coming in weak, ragged gasps. The warriors surrounding him had already started to lose hope, their

--- A Forgotten Path The journey began at dusk. Lena, Cassian, Mira, Dorian, and Idris rode out under the dying light, cloaks pulled tight against the chill. They rode toward the Forgotten Path—a place that had once been swallowed by the Rift now left untouched in the wake of its collapse. It was the only place the Remnant could have hidden. The only place left to search. Mira rode beside Lena, her expression unreadable. “So. We’re going straight into the place where reality is already broken.”

Then he looked at his Dad “D-dad.” “Thank God you remember me.” “Kuya. What about me?” This time it was Gravity “Gravity.” He called “W-What happened to me? why is that, why do I remember so little. I can't remember everything?” I cried, he can’t remember. He can only remember little “Kuya do you remember her?” Gravity pointed me to his brother “Answer me!” “Don’t shout Grav..” I said “I-I don't I’m sorry... who are you?” He looked at me