Chapter 100: Forgotten Memories [I]

Basil kept his head bowed, unable to meet the piercing gaze fixed on him. Darius tightened his grip slightly, his thumb moving to stroke the side of Basil’s face, grounding him in the moment. "I’ve longed to reunite with you for twelve long years, Basil" he continued, his voice growing softer with every word. "I’m not going to let anything come between us now that I can finally have you in my arms."

Basil’s breath hitched as he looked sharply up at Darius. There he went again, saying strange things that made absolutely no sense to him. What did Darius mean when he said he had waited twelve years to reunite with him? They had only met for the first time two months ago, when the queen brought Darius home. Before that day, Basil had never even known he existed, so how could Darius have spent twelve years longing to see him again? The more he thought about it, the more confused he became, especially when that made him remember something Darius had told him three days ago.

Basil had noticed the long, old scar stretching across Darius’s shoulder blade, and Darius had taken it upon himself to explain that he had sustained the injury during a territorial skirmish with a rival gang three years earlier. He had then admitted that while he lay bleeding in a hideout, waiting for help that might never come, he had thought about Basil the entire time. He had even feared that he might never get the chance to see him again. Basil had found the confession strange at the time, but he had assumed Darius was simply being sentimental. Now, however, those words took on an entirely different meaning. How could Darius have been thinking about him three years ago when they had supposedly never met? And what did he mean by waiting twelve years to reunite with him?

"Darius," Basil began hesitantly, his brows drawing together as he searched for the right words. "What do you mean by that? When you say you’ve been waiting twelve years to reunite with me, do you mean we’ve met before?" He paused, trying to make sense of his own question. "Did we know each other before the queen brought you home? Because I honestly don’t understand what you’re talking about."

A faint smile spread across Darius’s face as he watched Basil struggle to piece everything together. Rather than answering immediately, he lifted a hand and brushed a stray lock of hair away from Basil’s forehead, his touch lingering affectionately against his temple. There was something tender in his gaze, a quiet fondness that only deepened as he took in Basil’s bewildered expression. "I know you don’t remember, but yes, Basil," he finally answered, his voice gentle. "We’ve known each other since long before I came back home, and I haven’t forgotten about you since then. In fact, you contributed to the man I’ve become today." His smile faltered slightly, giving way to a more vulnerable expression. "It hurt, you know, when I realized I was the only one who remembered. All those years, I kept thinking about you, wondering what you were doing and whether you were all right. Then I finally got the chance to see you again, only to discover that you didn’t even recognize me."

Basil stared at him, his lips parting in disbelief, unable to make sense of anything Darius was saying. For several seconds, he could only look at Darius, hoping he would offer some reasonable explanation that would make his words easier to understand. Instead, his confusion only grew. He had no memory of meeting Darius before the queen brought him home, not even a vague recollection of a childhood acquaintance who might have been forgotten over the years. Yet Darius spoke with such unwavering certainty, and the hurt beneath his affectionate smile seemed far too genuine to be a joke. "I don’t understand," Basil admitted at last, his voice quiet and uncertain. "I really don’t. Can you explain what you mean? When did we meet? How did we meet? How could I have known you before if I can’t remember any of it?"

Darius studied him for a moment, his affectionate smile returning as he gently squeezed Basil’s hand. He seemed to consider how much he should reveal, his gaze lingering on Basil’s face before he finally let out a soft sigh. "It’s a long story, my prince, but don’t worry." He brushed his thumb over Basil’s knuckles, his expression reassuring. "I’ll explain everything to you without leaving anything out. After all, I promised to tell you everything, didn’t I?"

*****

By the time Darius finished recounting how they had first met, Basil’s expression had become increasingly bewildered. He sat quietly beside Darius, his brows drawn together as he tried to reconcile the story with his own memories, or rather, the complete absence of them. According to Darius, they had first met twelve years ago, when they were both nine years old. Basil had been visiting an orphanage with a charitable organization on his birthday, accompanying the adults who had come to celebrate with the children. During that visit, he had encountered a young boy who had been cornered by several bullies. The boy had been Darius, and when Basil discovered that the bullies had taken the money he had given Darius earlier that day after learning that it was also Darius’s birthday, he had intervened and helped him get it back.

Darius explained how that seemingly insignificant encounter had changed the course of his life. Basil had not stopped at getting his money back. After learning about the repeated bullying Darius endured, he had advised him to learn how to fight. According to Basil, it was the only way Darius could protect himself and stop the bullies from treating him like an easy target. He had even provided the money Darius needed for training, insisting that if he wanted the situation to change, he would have to learn to defend himself rather than continue waiting for someone else to intervene. Then, with the straightforward confidence of a nine-year-old who had no idea how difficult such a promise would be to fulfill, Basil had told him that once he learned how to fight, he could return to the palace and become his personal guard.

"I took that offer very seriously, you know," Darius said, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he recalled the memory. "I remember thinking that you were the strangest person I had ever met. You had no idea how difficult things were for me, yet you spoke as though becoming strong enough to change my circumstances was the simplest thing in the world."

Basil stared at him, his lips parting slightly as he absorbed the information. Nothing about the story felt familiar, yet Darius recalled every detail with such remarkable clarity that Basil found it difficult to dismiss his words. He could even see the affection in Darius’s eyes whenever he mentioned something Basil had said or done during that encounter. It was as though Darius had carried those memories with him for years, carefully preserving every little detail while Basil had somehow lost the entire experience. The thought left him feeling strangely unsettled, especially when he considered how much those forgotten memories appeared to mean to Darius.

"Anyway, I did exactly what you told me to do," Darius continued, gently squeezing Basil’s hand. "I started learning how to fight. I trained in everything I could get my hands on, from different forms of martial arts to hand-to-hand combat. I even learned how to shoot guns just to make sure I wasn’t lacking in any area." He chuckled softly, shaking his head at the memory. "Whenever I mastered one technique, I moved on to another. I kept going until I was confident that I had become strong enough to be the perfect bodyguard. And when I finally believed I was ready, I returned to the palace."

His smile turned faintly rueful as he recalled what happened next. "Unfortunately, getting strong enough to fight wasn’t the only obstacle I had to overcome. I wasn’t allowed inside the palace, so I couldn’t keep the promise I had made to you and myself about coming back to protect you. I had to find another way to protect you from afar, and that eventually led me down a completely different path. But that’s a story for another day. The important thing is that I never forgot you, my prince. Not even once."

Basil’s confusion deepened with every word. He glanced down at their joined hands, then slowly raised his eyes to Darius’s face. "I’m sorry, but I honestly can’t remember any of that," he admitted, his voice growing quieter as embarrassment crept into his expression. "I don’t remember visiting an orphanage with a charitable organization at that age, and I don’t remember meeting you when we were children. I don’t even remember any of the things you’ve just told me." He swallowed, struggling to find the right words. "I’m not saying you’re lying. I just... I can’t remember, and I’m sorry if that hurts you."