Chapitre 86: Bargaining
"Iris lost all of her memories."
Dr. Haytham stated gravely, his voice carrying the weight of the news.
"Thanks for stating the obvious, doctor," I replied dryly in a hoarse voice, sinking back into the comfort of the couch in Kay's office.
Kay interlocked his fingers on the desk, his expression deeply concerned. "How much has been lost?" he inquired
Dr. Haytham's demeanor remained solemn as he responded, "Everything, except for the basic functions necessary for her survival."
"It would've been quite awkward to teach her again the art of wiping the bum after a dump," he added.
"So she's lost all memory of her past and everything leading up to the attack?" Guinevere sought clarification, her intuition picking up on Kay's subtle reaction to the wrong-time joke.
Dr. Haytham nodded somberly. "I'm afraid so," he confirmed.
"Is there any way to recover her memories?", Kay asked.
The doctor's response was disheartening. "If this were a normal case of extreme amnesia, then I could've helped her regain her memories with certain triggers," he explained.
"But none of them worked. This is the work of her stigma."
He continued, his expression growing graver. "There were about a hundred wraiths in the room with her, and she didn't have spark gloves. She used her stigma on every wraith."
"That much power... Her stigma took away everything that made her Iris," he concluded, the weight of the realization evident in his tone.
Haytham sighed deeply. "A stigma is a supernatural ability, and it's something we hardly know about."
As the gravity of the situation sank in, I leaned forward, seeking clarification. "So you're saying..."
The doctor nodded, his gaze focused. "I have a theory. Something I came up with while waiting for Iris to wake up."
He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Let's say that Iris's stigma took away her memories. But instead of deleting her memories, her stigma has sealed them away into one corner of her mind with a lock and key."
"The problem is, we have no idea who holds the key," he continued. "Even if we somehow reach that corner of Iris's mind containing her stolen memories, we still won't be able to do anything."
I nodded slowly, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon me. "So without the key..."
"Not even the Incarnus of Lux could restore her memories," Guinevere finished, her voice heavy with resignation.
"The Incarnus of Lux?" I asked, looking at her.
She nodded. "When an Incarnus assumes their position, they choose a certain concept to govern and control. For example, the Incarnus of Haema is the goddess of Insanity."
"Similarly, the Incarnus of Lux is the goddess of Restoration. She can restore anything to its original form. It's like the ultimate form of healing using ardor," she explained.
A small spark of hope ignited within me amidst the darkness of my despair. "So the Incarnus could bring back her memories?"
"Theoretically, yes," Dr. Haytham agreed, though his expression remained grim. "But we would still need the key to unlock her sealed memories."
"And also," he added, "we have no idea about the whereabouts of the Incarnus of Lux."
The spark of hope flickered as uncertainty returned. "So, even if we could find the Incarnus of Lux, it will be futile without the key?"
"That's correct," Dr. Haytham confirmed. "The Incarnus of Lux has the power to restore her memories, but without the key, those memories remain inaccessible."
Guinevere placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "We will do everything we can to find a solution, Mordred. We won't give up on Iris."
I gave her a small smile, "Thank you, Mother."
But as the discussion about bringing back Iris's memories continued, a small voice whispered in the depths of my mind.
What if this is better for Iris?
She no longer has the memories of her past and the things she experienced in the Shield before the attack.
Doesn't that mean she is no longer subjected to her traumatic past and the horrors she experienced in Blood Valley?
Then isn't this a chance?
A chance for Iris to start anew, free from the burdens of her past?
I wonder.
Was it better this way? Better for Iris to forget the pain and suffering she had endured, to leave behind the ghosts of her past?
A part of me vehemently opposed this thought.
It would mean burning away the time we spent together. The pranks we played, the battles we fought, the petty squabbles, and the times we embraced each other, our lips pressed together in a kiss.
It would mean erasing the person she had become and the bond we had forged.
But another part of me, the part that couldn't bear to see her suffer, wondered if a fresh start now was the best thing for her.
Could I let go of the past for her sake? Could I let her begin again, even if it meant losing the memories of our shared moments?
The conflict within me was tearing me apart.
Fuck! It's so painful!
"Mordred! What's wrong?" Guinevere's face appeared in my vision, her expression filled with worry.
I snapped back to reality and blinked, gazing into her concerned blue eyes.
"I'm fine, Mother," I reassured her. "I was just thinking of something."
I then looked at Dr. Haytham. "So, there's no way to recover her memories?"
He shook his head. "Unfortunately, none at the moment."
"The only thing we can do is tell her who she is, where she came from, why she is in the Shield, and reintroduce everyone to her," he suggested.
"We'll also have to retrain her in combat and the use of ardor. That won't be difficult. Even if her mind doesn't know, her body remembers the movements of her skills. Plus, she is a genius, even if she doesn't know about it now."
Dr. Haytham looked at Kay. "That's the best thing we can do."
The Commander of the Deathwalkers turned his gaze to me. "What do you think, Mordred?"
Everyone had their eyes on me. The weight of their expectations was heavy, but I knew that this decision had to be made with Iris's best interests at heart.
The internal conflict raged within me, but I pushed it aside, focusing on what needed to be done.
"I think..." I started, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I think we need to give her a chance to start over."
Kay arched his eyebrows. "Start over?"
I nodded. "We tell her who she is—Iris Lefay, the Fairy of Tenebris and Hero of the Shield. But we do not tell her about her past, her traumatic childhood with her family, or the horrors she suffered as a Deathwalker."
Guinevere's eyes widened as she realized where I was going. "Mordred, are you suggesting..."
I nodded affirmatively. "Indeed, Mother. Iris should leave the Shield."
There was a silence as my words sank in.
Kay let out a sigh. "Mordred, I'm afraid that is not possible."
"Why?" I looked him in the eyes. "You said she is like your daughter. Then why are you saying that?" I asked, even though deep down I knew the answer.
"Because she is a criminal, Mordred," Kay said in a difficult voice. "She murdered two members of her family—two high-ranking members of society. In the eyes of the law, she is a criminal, and her punishment is to be a Deathwalker."
My hands shook as I spoke my next words. "Her sentence could be reduced."
"Her sentence is already reduced," Kay retorted. "The High King reduced it as much as he could after learning of her circumstances. Not even he could change it again," he said with a resigned sigh.
I looked at Guinevere. "Mother, you're the High Queen."
She shook her head with a dismayed look. "I'm sorry, Mordred. Even I am not above the law. Not even Arthur. He decides the sentence, but he cannot alter it in any way after it is decided."
The reality of the situation hit me like a blow.
"Is there any other way?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
A painful silence ensued, broken by Dr. Haytham's voice.
"There is a way," he said, looking at me intently. "A method to let Iris leave early."
"Haytham, are you aware of what you're suggesting?" Kay asked in a dangerous tone.
"Of course I am," Dr. Haytham replied, meeting his gaze. "But it depends on whether Mordred is ready to do his part."
"What do you mean?" I asked, stepping forward. "If there's a way, I'll do anything."
Kay, Guinevere, and Dr. Haytham exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them.
"Haytham, Your Majesty, can you wait outside for a moment?" Kay asked.
"Kay, this better not be that," Guinevere spoke in a dangerous tone.
The Commander sighed. "It is up to Mordred. Please, Guinevere."
It was the first time I had ever heard Kay address Guinevere by her name. If the Commander was pleading with the High Queen, then this was serious.
They stared at each other for a moment before Guinevere sighed. "Fine. Come on, Casper."
She turned to me. "Mordred, think carefully before making a decision."
A small smile appeared on her face. "I'll support whatever decision you make."
With that, she and Dr. Haytham left the room.
Kay got up from his seat and walked over to me, his blue eyes gazing down at me.
"Mordred, let's talk."
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
just_a_fox
just_a_fox What is the way I wonder?
Do you agree with Mordred?
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
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