41

(Previous Post: 39)

"I couldn't tell you anything if I wanted to,” you rise, standing tall in front of her and staring into her eyes, “so you'll get no answers from me." You raise your gaze to look at the others before you continue. "My memory is broken—the story I've just heard is the only clue I have to who I am. I need someone to tell me what's been happening, so I can figure out what's going on... Please."

Nan clicks her tongue, and waves away everyone, “Gackawacka.” She marches back to her own vardo, leaving you with those around the fire.

Roisin takes your hand, pulling you to a seat next to her. “What do you want to know?”

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40

(Previous Post: 39)

"Tell me." You say, your tone deadly serious.

39

(Previous Post: 38)

"What's going on?" You demand to know. You're confused about the presence of these people, about what you've just learned of your parents, and about the implications of what Roisin just said. You fully sit up and stare intently at the old woman--at Nan.

"Tell me." You say, your tone deadly serious.

“Hoo byaig a vardo from thribli 'nd just gokhyi, grawkin.” Nan speaks quickly, punctuating sentences with sharp thumps from her cane. Between the anger in her voice and her thick Irish accent, the English and randomly blended Shelta she speaks are difficult to follow. “Ye've been snared rapid, an' now ye tink you deserve answers? Gloree me—we laabi in dolimi, because ye say 'they are coming,' but ye force us to tcholi lud through woods 'nd boreens. I'm jaded. Who is coming? Why didja take the vardo?”

• If you have the skill “Speak Language: Shelta,” this post has been translated for you, go to 40.
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38

(Previous Post: 37)

Your attention has been completely transfixed by the story, and you sit up without thinking. "Where's Ena now? Where's my mother?"

“Oh, Aiden.” Roisin looks to you, and then at the ground in front of her. “She had a good life, but she fell asleep and just--”

“Aiden.” An old woman strikes the ground with her walking stick as she stands, and everyone gives their full attention to her. “We must speak.”

“Nan, he only just woke up--” Roisin begins.

“We have little time.” The old woman interrupts.

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(creative commons photo by Hamed Saber, not necessarily a character

portrayed in this story. Used for illustration purposes only.)