His hat was gone and his back was to them but Feyla would have known those lean, slim shoulders and that head of red hair anywhere. Her breath did an odd hiccup that matched the stutter of her heart. "Sedgewick!"

"This is the third interruption in just as many hours, and as I recall, I promised to blast the next person who disturbed my work again." He turned, uncurling himself from where he was sitting cross-legged and rising to his feet. The orange ward still vibrated in from of him.

"Master Sedgewick!" Mydel was the first to exclaim. His voice lifted in boyish enthusiasm.

Sedgewick tilted his head and stared at Mydel the way one might stare at a buzzing, annoying bug. His gaze slipped down the line, lingering on Sandrina and her staff before briefly glancing at Feyla.

A fearful half-thought rose to Feyla's mind, blocking out the words she'd planned to say. Could he have been...? No, this was Sedgewick. He'd never let Desden—

"Am I supposed to know that name?" he asked. There was no recognition in his eyes. His ear gave a flick of irritation while his expression lapsed into boredom.

"Sedgewick?" Feyla asked, her throat unable to handle more than a broken whisper. Beside her, Sandrina and Mydel both took a step back.

"Carrow's spell," Sandrina hissed, voicing what they were all thinking.

Feyla's hands started shaking. He was looking right at her and acting like he didn't see anything at all.

"Maybe he doesn't remember any more magic either?" Mydel suggested.

"I thought that those thugs outside were supposed to deal with intruders but once again, I'm the only competent one here." The ward tugged away like a blanket jerked free of a clothesline. Magic swirled back to Sedgewick's hand, coalescing into a ball above his palm. He carried no staff. For the first time since their arrival, a small smile played across his lips.

"We need to run," Mydel whispered. His eyes were wide and sweat had begun dripping down his forehead.

"I can take him," Sandrina insisted. She reclaimed the step she'd given up.

"You're the Archmage's old apprentice, not the Archmage herself!"

"I don't need to beat him, I just need to hold him off."

Mydel grabbed Feyla's arm and tugged her toward the door. The shock over her limbs loosened enough for him to tug her along.

Behind them, the door slammed shut. "If you wanted to leave easily, you shouldn't have interrupted me in the first place."

Sandrina and Mydel both summoned wards just in time for the force of Sedgewick's blast to knock them back like a sledgehammer. Sandrina grit her teeth, strengthening her ward enough to keep the second blast from pinning all of them against the door. "Mydel, now!"

Dismissing the remains of his shattered ward, Mydel swerved to the left and sent a blast of yellow magic flying at Sedgewick. Feyla snapped out of her haze. She opened her mouth to stop Mydel from hurting Sedgewick when Mydel's blast snuffed out pitifully against Sedgewick's ward.

Sandrina wasted no time. She rushed deeper into the large room, sending out a dozen small lilac essences flares in Sedgewick's direction. He jerked his attention away from Mydel in time to let the flares hit another ward, pounding against it like falling comets.

Feyla started creeping along the wall. If she could just get behind him then she could knock him out before one of the three mages in the room got another killed. Sandrina met her eyes briefly but only a single nod acknowledged that she'd recognized what Feyla was doing.

"Fascinating," Sedgewick said, talking as if he'd just gotten an interesting result in his latest research experiment. "I had thought, surely there must be others closer in power to me." He stretched his hand, looking at it in wonder. "I must admit, I wasn't sure if I still had any memories of how to apply magic to battle. It seems I was wrong." He twisted and would have looked straight at Feyla if Mydel hadn't called out.

"Why are you doing this?" the younger mage asked. He pushed his yellow hat back to look Sedgewick in the eyes. "We—we know you."

"Because this—" Sedgewick waved his hand dramatically at all the scattered notes on the floor. "Is a fascinating puzzle and you are interrupting me."

Feyla reached the back of him. She bolted forward, arms ready to send Sedgewick crumpling unconscious to the ground. He swerved around first.

Sedgewick caught her hand by the wrist. Sandrina fired another blast at his now-exposed back but it ricocheted off of the ward he'd summon without turning. Mydel ran toward them, staff raised again. A chair resting in the corner glowed orange and sailed across the room, crashing into his side with enough force to send the mage falling to the ground. And through all the chaos, Sedgewick just...stared at her. Finally. Lingeringly. "You don't know magic. So how did I remember that you were likely to—"

Another one of Sandrina's star-shower blasts shot off of her staff. Sedgewick jerked Feyla against him and the nearness of his presence almost made her relax out of instinct. Until she realized he'd just tugged her in front like a living shield. Orange wrapped around each of Sandrina's tiny essence flares. The lilac magic bumped against the confines of Sedgewick's, desperate to break free. Sedgewick twisted his hand and all the smaller pieces crashed into one. Sandrina waved her hand to dismiss the spell so she could cast again, but Sedgewick's grip was too strong. She couldn't get through and she couldn't pull back with the spell continued to siphon her magic. Sandrina grit her teeth, feeding more magic into the now-combined blasts to help it break through.

Feyla wrenched free of Sedgewick's grip. She fell to the ground, struggling to catch her breath. The sound of more magic buzzed in her ears as she scrambled to her feet. Sedgewick had finally overpowered Sandrina's spell. The female mage cursed, gripping her hand to her chest at the violent recoil of energy. She stumbled back and Sedgewick was on her before she could find her balance.

"Wait!" Feyla cried out.

The magic in Sedgewick's hand sputtered. He blinked at her, confusion shadowing his face before he summoned the magic back and held it dangerously close to Sandrina's face. "Why?"

"You—you saw what I tried to do to you. Let me do it to her instead. Then you won't have to kill her."

"Are you mad?!" Sandrina shouted.

"Trust me!"

"No!" Sandrina's lips curled and the look on her face said that she thought Feyla had finally lost what little sense she'd had.

Sedgewick shrugged. He turned his attention back to blasting Sandrina. She threw up another ward and scrambled back but against a blow of Sedgewick's from so close, it wasn't going to last. Feyla rammed into Sedgewick's arm sending the shot wild before she tackled Sandrina to the floor.

Air hissed between Sandrina's teeth as Feyla's blow made contact. "You better know what you're..." Her eyes slipped closed.

Feyla's heart threatened to explode from her chest. She slid off of Sandrina and her head started spinning. Sedgewick, Sedgewick, Sedgewick. The name that had given her strength now played a mocking chorus in her head. She looked back at Sandrina and then at Mydel's still-unconscious form. He—he'd planned to kill them. His fellow mages. Two people whom he'd fought beside. Whatever Desden had done...it was effective. Wiping out his memories of all of them but leaving in everything related to his magic. There was an exactness to it that she hadn't associated with the wizard. Anger cleared her head. Feyla clenched her fists and stared back up at the fey who had forgotten her.

Sedgewick eyed her curiously. "You are a wild creature, aren't you?" Folding his hands behind his back, he circled her, careful to keep a safe distance from her sudden jumps. "What do you call yourself?"

"Feyla."

"Fey-la," he hummed the syllables of her name like a half-remembered song. "Nothing else?"

"Just Feyla." She raised her chin proudly and without fear. "And you're my Sedgewick."

"Your Sedgewick? So certain, so possessive. In what way am I yours? A lover? A servant?" He chuckled mockingly in a way that she'd forgotten he could do.

"We're betrothed. I've come to save you." She clenched the necklace underneath her borrowed shirt.

"Save me? No thank you, I'm quite happy here for the present."

Feyla nearly growled in frustration. "You're trapped by a wizard! How could you be happy?"

Sedgewick paused in his circling. "Listen, wild thing, I awoke here with an ache in my chest and a power pressing against my fingertips. Carrow, the wizard as you call him, has given me everything I need to soothe both." Sedgewick flicked his wrist and the scattered papers on the floor reassembled into an indiscernible order. "I don't need to remember anything to know that I was meant to do things like this." He knelt and touched the notes reverently, his voice going soft. "Of course, I would enjoy it more if he let me have the extra weeks to find a way to use a more stable magic than this...black stuff he's so fond of."

"You...you don't want to remember me because of a research project?" Feyla spat out the words, her voice rising to a pitch that Sedgewick usually avoided her reaching at all costs.

This Sedgewick's pupils widened, a grin curling his lips. "Oh, but you are a wild, singular creature. What an effort it must have been to erase one such as you. Assuming you're not lying, of course."

She was affecting him, Feyla realized. Knowing Sedgewick, he was hiding how much was getting through. The memory spell hadn't been settled on his mind for long. Maybe she could pull inspiration from Desden and Dormaeus's encounters... "Lying is unbecoming. And if you're not my Sedgewick then what do you call yourself?"

"Well..." A book titled A Brief History of Magic flew to his hands. "I found one in here. Mageus. Sounds rather fitting, don't you think?"

Feyla's ear gave a twitch and she wavered between laughing and screaming. Mageus was what the fey called a Divine Helper, a powerful servant of the Creator. He was associated with wisdom and knowledge, particularly arcane knowledge. Which was why he was the patron helper of mages. Sedgewick, who'd awoken only a short while ago with no memories of his titles or his skills, had already decided that he was worthy to be named after the patron helper of mages. If he'd been closer, she would have taken that book and smacked him with it. "If only you knew how much."

Feyla stood ever so slowly. Sedgewick, because she refused to think of him as Mageus, narrowed his amber eyes suspiciously. She kept her movements controlled. Poised and elegant. Acting like they were back in that hallway alcove during the gala. Inside, her heart refused to slow its beating even as each pounding reminded her that while she was but a few steps away, the one she loved had never been farther. "So you're not even a little curious of who you were? Who you are?"

"Not really." But his eyes roamed over her, far different from the dismissive glance he'd given her at the door. She'd become another puzzle, the answer to which was buried underneath layers of magic. She just had to get him to pick at it.

"That's too bad." She was a mere five steps away and he hadn't blasted her yet. "Although, I guess it's kind of funny that the greatest mage in all of Abreyla is the only one who doesn't remember himself." Take the bait, you arrogant mage.

"Greatest?" He brandished the book in front of him like a shield but the curiosity in his voice couldn't be hidden. Sedgewick raised a brow haughtily and attempted to anyway. "But you are no doubt biased given your claim that we're lovers."

Feyla was in front of him now. She wrapped her fingers around the book and gently pushed it down. Her eyes never left his. "Lovers implies a lesser commitment. You're more than a moment. You're my forever."

She wasn't sure who let go first, but the book hit the floor between them. Feyla stepped over it. Her hands slide up his chest and Sedgewick's breath hitched. She finally cupped his face and the heat from his nearly feverishly warm skin seeped to the tips of her fingers. His hands reached for her waist, clinging to the baggy fabric of her shirt while his eyes stared into hers like a man dreaming. She kissed him, softly at first as she tried to dredge up memories of a hundred other forgotten kisses. But when he groaned against her mouth and kissed her back, she flung herself into it, greedily devouring all of the assurance and affection she'd been starving for since their fight. Sedgewick's hands  left her waist to skim across her arms until he could pull her hands away and lace her fingers between his own. Oh, it felt wonderful. At long last, she had her Sedgewick again. Jaerick could remove the rest of the memory spell later, but now they could storm downstairs, stop Desden, and—

Something cold and heavy clicked shut around her wrists. Feyla jerked free in time to see the glow of Sedgewick's magic fading from the essantium-lined cuffs around her wrists. The betrayal slammed into her and her heart started breaking.

"Oh, don't look so betrayed. I'm sure you would have done your little neck pinch if I hadn't snapped out of it when I did." He almost wiped his mouth but stopped and readjusted his rumpled collar instead.

Feyla slipped to her knees. "You really don't know me anymore, do you?"

"I suppose I don't, Feyla." Sedgewick summoned an essence flare, keeping half an eye on her even as he approached the door. Flinging it open, he doomed himself and the rest of them with a single shout. "CARROW! I don't know what you're paying those idiot guards, but they just failed at keeping three intruders from blasting at my research!"

***********************

Author's Note:

Feyla: Lovers isn't enough for what we are

Me: *uses Lover by Taylor Swift*

Ehehehehe...

AHAHAHAHAHHA!

*cough* I have had this scene planned for so freaking long and I couldn't talk about it and ahhhhhh. But now it's out and you're welcome (or considering what happened, um, not welcome. Take your pick). Will Sedgewick remember Feyla? Can she escape in time to stop Desden? And where the gates is Arilla? Let me know in the comments!

Fun fact: one of the things that I agonized about while plotting was whether Feyla or Sedgewick should be the one to lose their memories. (that is said Terrible Thing that I've angst about if you've been chatting with me).