Mnimi

3 - Memory Graveyards

I wait in a room full of porcelain dolls. Feels like something out of a horror flick. Chesta sits across the room, texting her life away. My knees are shaking. I have to keep grabbing them to stop them from doing that. It's embarrassing. Thing is, I've never actually met a Shintaku. Only heard of them from my mother, and she always said that to meet one was like staring into a mirror that reflects your deepest, darkest secrets, which for someone like me, whose head is full of deep dark secrets, can be rather scary thing. 

"You know," says Chesta. "You're not the first Memory Dealer I've met. Back in our home country, there were two. Daddy tried to bring them over with us when we moved to this country, but they refused. Said that a great Demonking walked this land and that they were better off there."

"They were smart," I say. "Smarter than my ancestors, anyway."

"Tell me about your people," she says. "Belya - You know, my maid - she didn't tell me much about you. How is it you can do what you do?"

I look up at her. I suppose it's no big secret, just something people have stopped knowing. 

"My people were once called Partomenya. It meant Masters of Memory. We were revered as great healers. They'd call on us to exorcise those who were possessed by demons. All we really did was remove their memory of whatever it was they were so afraid of and the people would suddenly stop acting... well... possessed."

Chesta puts her phone aside and rests her elbows on her knees and her chin on her palms, and watches me. 

"We also played huge roles in many of the old battles. Especially during the 5th War. Generals had us toy with the minds of their enemy armies. Make them think they were losing. Stuff like that to kill their morale. It was unfair, to be honest, but that's just how things were."

"That's fascinating," says Chesta. 

"Everyone knew that to have Partomenya in your kingdom was considered a blessing from the gods," I say, "So my people were treated with the greatest respect. Let's just say there was always a place for us at the king's table. No one ever questioned how we came about our gifts. they just assumed we'd been chosen by the gods For these grand tasks, and because of that our status in society was never questioned. The best part was that the people had no issue with that. They were merely grateful that we were there to protect them from their demonic and  human enemies alike."

"Weird," says Chesta. "I mean, look at you now. You're like a drug dealer but without the drugs."

"Yeah," I says. "Everything changed for my people when when they appeared. At first, they presented themselves as prophets, warning the cities about how my kind would bring a great damnation upon the kingdoms that sheltered us. So of course, the people being fearful and gullible as ever, began to revolt against their kings, demanding that the Partomenya be cast out and banished from the kingdoms. And few kings Actually gave in, handing the Partomenya over to these prophets. The prophets then revealed themselves to be something other than human."

"Demonkings!" Says Chesta. I nod.

"When faced with one of us, their bodies elongated and their eyes grew black and shiny. People feared them and gave them that name, but aside from their frightening appearance, the Demonkings claimed to pose no threat to the people. They continued to speak in human tongues, and Preached the salvation of humankind form the great damnation promised that they only meant to do away with the Partomenya. Then, in front of everyone, the Demonkings consumed the flesh of the Partomenya, spilling their blood in the city streets. Such cities became known as Memory Graveyards."