Tell Me My Name Read Online Free PDF

plan
descends upon me, and a great swelling of despair fills my chest as
I realize that this effort, like my others, is in vain. I let my
arms drop, wondering how long I stood here like an idiot, waiting
for something that could never happen, and, with tears stinging my
eyes, sink to the ground. I don’t want to give up, but when I wrack
my brain for more ideas, I can’t come up with any. I’ve tried
breaking down the walls, widening the window, melting the ice …
what more is there to attempt? The ground is solid iron – I could
claw at it until I ground my fingers to bone dust, and it wouldn’t
make a difference. The ceiling is iron as well … not that I could
reach it.
    It’s hopeless. Completely hopeless.
I’ve tried everything I can think of, and I’m no closer to finding
a way out. And how can I learn anything if I’m trapped here, with
the only other sign of life being those who refuse to answer my
questions? Though the enchanted sphere keeps the frigid air back, I
still feel incredibly cold. The chill comes from inside me, from
the emptiness of not even knowing my own name.
    But I can’t simply
surrender. There must be something more I can do – I just need to figure out what .
    Realizing I’m still holding
the apprentice’s black cloak, I wrap the material around me.
Something about its presence brings me a small measure of comfort.
Perhaps it’s just knowing that someone – anyone – cares a little
about me. What if I ask him for answers
the next time he comes? a part of me
inquires. He alone was willing to help me; he’s probably my only
hope. But why would he, especially when his powerful master
controls him so tightly?
    He challenged that
authority already, for my sake , that voice
in my head whispers. If I appeal to him,
if I let him know how much I’m depending on him, maybe he’ll do it
again.
    But what would the master
do to him if he did? Though the magician healed the wounds he
inflicted the first time, I can’t forget the horrible way he threw
the boy into the wall. I questioned then what right that man had to
do so, and now I have to wonder: What right have I to ask the
apprentice to face that again? What right have I to ask anything of
him?
    To do what my mind
suggested would be to manipulate another for my own gain, and that
would be wrong .
Further, I shouldn’t have to depend on someone else in the first
place. I should find a way to recover my memories and escape this cell on my
own. But what if I’m not clever enough? Not resourceful enough? Not
… strong enough?
    Tears roll down my cheeks, and as I
brush them away, I catch a glimpse of the window to the outdoors.
The light that previously shone through it has retreated, leaving a
bluish-gray shade across the sky. Its darkness seems to reflect how
I feel: lonely and lost.
    Then a twinkle catches my eye. A star
– the first one I’ve seen tonight. A feeling stirs – not quite a
memory, but close. Something inside tells me that stars represent
goodness, and I focus on the thought. Maybe it’ll bring back the
recollection of who taught me that.
    Suddenly the stories shine clearly in
my head, as sure as my knowledge of the wind and the sky, and I
find comfort in their familiarity. I know that the goodness of
starlight, given by the benevolent Divinity, glows within all of
our souls. She watches over us, Her children, and charged Her
heavenly servants, the ayri, with caring for us. They dwell in the
Celestial Realm alongside the spirits of the dead, each ayr
responsible for a specific aspect of the world – an hour of the
day, like midnight; an element of nature, like rain; or a
particular virtue, like truth. They embody these pieces of the
universe, with the ayri of time ensuring each hour occurs when it
should, and those of nature bringing balance to the weather and the
earth. As for the ones of virtue – it’s said that they whisper
their advice into our minds and guide those wise enough to listen.
And though they all