Refuge In Catalonia

She shot herself up into a sitting position, struggling to breathe.  Coughing, she glanced around in fear, not knowing where she was.  Tears flowed out of her eyes.  ‘Where in the Hell am I?’  Then another thought came to her.  ‘Who am I?’

As hard as she could, she could not remember anything before she woke up.  Once she got her emotions under control.  She pushed herself up from the ground.  She looked around and somehow knew she was in Catalonia ruins.  Before she saw a depiction on a pillar, Amb forca aquest regna prosperara.

It only caused her to become dizzy and have a bad headache. She leaned against a tree and rubbed her eyes.  It was starting to become a bother.  She rubbed the pain away before she thought to look into her pockets.

She found an ID with the name of Deirdre Kennedy on it, along with an Urban Archaeologist.  As her working title.  It made her think, and she realized that all of it was very familiar to her.  Causing her headache to subside as information came to her.  Her breathing slowed.  ‘What was I doing here?’

Then a male voice happened to be calling out her name.  ‘How convenient,’ she thought as she heard him.  “Deirdre, where are you?!”

One part of her feared the kind of man he was, even though he knew her name.  Since she did not remember who he was.  The other part screamed for her to yell out.  As both sides battled, a swak came out of her; it was enough for the man to hear her.  He turned and saw her.

“Oh, there you are, Deirdre!  I was worried sick when you didn't come back to Jaca.”  The man came rushing towards her.  It was when his eyes became worried.  “What happened?”

“Who are you,” her voice had a tone of fear and warning.

This caused the man to stop and look at her.  “Deirdre,” he asked with a tone of caution.  He placed a backpack that he had on his back and placed it on the ground.  “You have a bruise on your head, along with a cut.  I think you hit your head on something.  Would you please let me bandage your head.”

Deirdre sighed, as she realized that it would explain why she didn’t remember much as she woke up.  “Tell me your name first.”

“Andreu Caballe, we have been out here working on this site together for a few months.  Before the world had gone dark.”  He explained as he pulled some things out of his backpack.  “I am a survivalist, and I used to be an engineer.  You were using my skills to survive out here and asked me to draw what this place used to look like.”

“Wait, Jaca, the old Capital of the Kingdom of Aragon,” she asked him.

“The very one,” smiled Andreu.  He washed her head with medical liquid and then some medical lotion kind of stuff.  Before he placed gaze and wrapped her head up.  She felt like a mummy.  Plus, it smelled, making her nose twitch.  

“Come on,” he urged her.  “Let’s get you back to Jaca.  Everyone has been worried about you.  I will have to warn them that you won’t remember them.”  He looked sad about that.

Deirdre allowed him to guide her.  She felt more confused with herself than ever before.  ‘How can I feel like I know someone and not?  It’s all very confusing.’  With the medicine on her head, the dizziness has helped, but not by much.

As soon as they got out of the forest, it was when she recognized Jaca.  She did not understand how she could remember a place and not people.  ‘But I don’t understand how I ended up here in the first place.  The last place I remember was Spokane, WA.  At least, I thought I did.’

Once they were within the fortress.  They were surrounded by many people.  She took a step back, which only caused many people to look to Andreu with concern.  She hated that look.  It only made her angry with herself for forgetting these people.  ‘They seem like good people.’

“Enough, please,” Andrue called out to them.  Making everyone quiet down, after they had all started to ask questions at the same time.  “As you can see, Deirdre has hit her head, causing her to forget many things.  Including who we are.”

“If it makes it any better, I forgot my own name,” she gave a shy smile.  This caused many to calm down.

Andreu gave her a worried look, “Is that true?”

“Yes, I looked into my own pockets and found my ID.”  She glanced down, she felt terrible.  As she saw the looks.  They were not just worried, but also fear, concern, and other mixed emotions that she couldn't name.  She didn't like those looks.  

Andreu waved his arms when a Spanish man came to him.  As he seemed to not have understood.  “Ella perdió la memoria.”  The man looked at Driedre with sadness.

“Cuando recuperará la memoria,” the man asked Andreu.  He had a small hint of hope in his voice.

Andreu then told everyone that it would be her best interest that they would give her space and time to heal.  “Give her some time around familiar things, it could trigger her memories faster.”

Everyone wished her well wishes as they went off to do what they were doing.  Leaving her with Andreu alone once again.  She felt uneasy with him, she couldn't help it, as two sides of her fought against her.  She just didn't know who to listen to.

“Please,” She asked softly.  “Where is my place?  I think I need to lay down.”  The sunlight was hurting her eyes.  

Andreu shocked his head, “I don't think sleeping is wise, not with that head injury.”  He looked at her head, avoiding her eyes.  He really looked concerned.

“Look, the light is hurting my eyes and I am hungry.”  Her tone must have shown her frustration.  It was then he looked into her eyes.

“Oh, yes, of course.”  Andreu nodded, “Come follow me.”  He led her through the age looking streets.  It was breathtaking, for a historic capital.  “You really don't remember anything,” he asked her.

Deirdre glanced at him, crossed her arms.  “Why would I lie about something like that?”  Her tone, slightly sharp and stern.  She had a feeling she didn't like being told, lair.  “And why would I want to hurt people for enjoyment?”

Andreu sighed, “You have a point, you are not that kind of person.  You never were.  I am sorry.”  He glanced down as they kept walking.  “We are together, you see, and it would break me if you forgot me.”

Deirdre closed her eyes as inner turmoil ate at her.  “Would you feel better if I told you that something kept telling me to trust you.”  She glanced up, as she saw hope in his eyes.  “Telling me to rush towards you while I was in the forest.  Even though I didn't remember.”

“Deirdre, yes, that gives me great comfort.  Thank you,” he smiled at her.  He then continued to lead her through the fortress.  His smile never wavered.

She felt lost, with a massive building in front of them, after she had been deep in thought.  “This was known as the Museum of Military Miniatures; we all use it as a makeshift dorm.”

“That makes sense,” she blurted out.  It did; with so many of them, they needed a big place.  The place looked like a military batiks.  Not like she had ever done any military service; she did know that much; she didn't and knew that her family had.  

“You seem to remember something; as you see this building, what was it?”  Andreu sounded hopeful.

Deirdre sighed, but she knew to be truthful.  “Military, I remember that I never served, but I felt that most of my family have.”

Andréu nodded his head.  He gave an encouraging smile.  “That's correct; your father and his brother served in the Navy during Vietnam for North America.  Their father, a Marine, for World War II.  Their mother, a Navy nurse, also participated in World War II.  Your mother's side were all Navy men.”

Derived blinked in wonder, feeling a sense of pride for her past family members.  “What about you?”

“No,” he shook his head.  “I am too much of a scholar for the likes of war.  I could never take another human life.  Take an animal’s life so we can live another day; that is different.”

Deirdre nodded her head.  “Yes, I see your point.  Even if I hate killing animals.  If it is out of a need, a need to survive. That is different.”

Andreu smiled, “I'm glad your viewpoint hasn't changed, just your memory.”  He then continued to lead her down the outer hallway.  “I am glad to know you are still you, Deirdre.”

Her nose scrunched in thought.  “I don't know how to take that,” she admitted.

After a few doors down, he opened a door.  Ushering her inside.  It looked spacious; the front looked like a makeshift kitchen and dining room.  With a stockpile of food.  On the table there was a pile of papers, notes, and drawings.  

‘What I would expect, if it was my place, if I was honest.’  She walked over to the papers and saw her handwritten notes.  Details of the site that she woke up in.  She then glanced at the drawings. ‘I could never draw anything like this.’

“Those I did for you,” supplied Andreu.  She turned to look at him.  “You asked me to draw how the site would have been if it were freshly built.  When I did, you had voiced that I was off by a fraction.  Otherwise, I was good.”

Deirdre glanced down at the paper again.  “Also, the building didn't have these statues.”  She pointed to the small angels.  She remembered not seeing them.  

This caused him to rush over and look at the drawing.  “What?  That can't be... I have gone to the site many times…”  He looked at her with wild fear and the need to be right.  

“How…?”  He looked extremely lost.  More lost than she felt without much of a memory to fall back on.  “I swear, these belong here.”

Deirdre sighed, “Alright, maybe someone stole them.  But why?”

This caused Andreu to step back to look at her.  “That could be why you got hit in the head.  To forget what happened.”  He undid the wrap to look at her head.  “I am going to release your head and bandage it up again.”

She just nodded her head.  Deirdre felt that maybe more than just angels were taken.  As she was hit quite hard.  “Did something happen to the world?”

Andreu sighed as he walked around the batik.  “You noticed.  Well, the world crashed in the last three months.  Computers, power grids, we are back to the stone age of technology.  The last we heard, as the world was ending, it started by a computer virus.”

Deirdre knew about computer viruses; she had to replace her laptops.  Three times, because of it.  She had backups for her backups because of it.  She never took anything for granted again.  She even saved everything on a backup cloud storage, but that was no longer available.  

Good thing she made paper copies.  She hated to kill a tree.  But it was because of times like these that she had to.  She always asked Mother Nature for forgiveness, as well as for the tree that was sacrificed for the paper.  Along with the air that was wasted and taken away.  

“What's wrong,” asked Andreu.  “You have that look that says I am worried about nature.”

“I am,” she admitted softly.  She walked around the table and sat down.  After he was done patching her up.  “I don't like killing a tree,” before picking up the papers and waving them.  “Each tree that is cut, we take a source of oxygen away.”  

Andreu blinked and sat down before her.  He had a smile that spoke volumes.  “You cease to amaze me.”  His eyes looked at her, making her think they had hearts in them.  “Let me boldly say, I am in love with you.”

This made her heart flutter.  As her blood froze.  She felt a fear leave her eye.  She was touched; she knew that.  ‘What do I say?’

“Don't say anything,” he begged her.  “I just want you to know.”  He then got up, grabbed a jug, and left.  

Deirdre lay her head down on her crossed arms.  Tears freely rained out of her.  “Whoever hits me will pay for this,” she moaned onto the table.

After what felt like a half hour.  Andreu came back with a filled jug of water.  Deirdre glanced up, seeing as he started cooking something out of the food that was there.

“The computer virus, where did it come from,” she asked.

Andreu glanced over his shoulder at her.  “That is what was odd.  People couldn't pinpoint it.  Saying that someone or many had gotten on at random times, in random places.  Uploading the virus at airports around the world.

“It started in Seattle, then Denver.  Before going to England and Italy.  Then Barcelona; from there it wasn't being uploaded anywhere else.  By then it already had a foothold into Europe.”

This caused Deirdre to think, or try to think at least.  Where she was, she couldn't remember, not for the life of her.  ‘Did I cause the virus,’ it was a wild thought she knew.  She remembered that Seattle was very close to Spokane.  She could have easily carried a computer virus and not known it.

‘I took out the world.’  She hid her face.  Deirdre looked through the papers and read through her notes.  Even a notebook that was started before she came there.  The detailed notes of the area, to how she met Andreu Caballe.

‘I met Andreu Caballe in an online room discussion about envisioning history.  How can modern times reconstruct ancient buildings?’  It was a great discussion, as the words explained.  From there, they somehow managed to exchange emails and then set up for her to come to Spain.  

He had helped her by setting up the proper visas, work permits, and everything she needed for Spain.  Everything else, like her work history, taxes, and financial history.  She had to get those herself.  Spain was very picky on who was to come in.  While she was in Spain, she had to get an in depth background check.

She read all that from her notebook.  But there was nothing that said anything about a computer virus.  She arrived, as Andreu had said, three months ago.  She was working on getting a long-term visa because the work was looking to take longer than planned.  The second month into her stay, the virus has already started to spread.

And the romance between her and Andreu had started to bloom.  As it was written on the pages, in her hand.  “Andreu,” she called softly. tears came out of her eyes.  She felt bad, not remembering anything.  “How far,” her voice cracked.

He looked at her.  “We only kissed, held hands, and shared a bed.  Just to snuggle, nothing more.”  

She felt no lie coming from him.  She got up as he was cutting the vegetables.  She wrapped her arms around him.  As she felt the urge to do so.  She felt too tired to fight with herself.

“What…?”  As one of his hands rested on one of hers.  “Are you alright?”

She shook her head.  “No, I have been fighting with myself since I have met you.  Telling me to hug you, hold you.”  Tears flowing.  “I am far from alright.”

“Do what you need to do, Darning.  Cry, scream.  It's your right to let it out,” he rubbed her arm.  Before he went on to make whatever food he was making.

So she stayed there, hugging him.  His essence felt nice.  Like an endless comfort that she had no idea that he was to her.  After a while, she sat back down again.  Only to realize that the place was somehow being powered in some way.

“How are we getting power,” she asked.

“Solar energy,” he gave her a knowing smile.  “I hooked it up myself.  Just before the computer virus hit.  I had everything here going off-grid.  Nothing here was affected by the virus.  Making us safe from the outside world of society.”  

“Smart,” she praised him.  “I felt like I had many plans like that in my head.  In case things like this happened.”

“You did, and you shared that with me.  Making me do this.  I am glad that I listened.”  He smiled at her.   “It saved us from a big downfall.”  

Deirdre smiled, feeling her cheeks hurt.  “I'm glad to have helped.”

It was then that food was ready, and Andreu came over with a Dutch oven.  It was a big chicken with mixed vegetables.  He served them, and they ate their meal.  Each bite she took, a memory would pop up.

Andreu Caballe is cooking; she is at the table, writing notes from the day at the site.  A song on his lips, words of love.  A smile on her lips as she wrote descriptive meanings when she was at the ancient site.  Along with her belief in ancient Catalonias.  How Andreu would wrap his arms around her waist.

A man deeply in love with her, and she with him.  A deep, longing kiss.  Surging emotions of love, passion, and the need for more.  It left her breathless and a sense of wonder.  Wonder how someone can make her feel this way when no one else has?  

All of it made her frustrated and confused.  How could a taste make her remember when everything hadn't?  She looked at Andreu with a hopeless and helpless glance.  “Did you ever sing, my yellow rose?”

This made Andreu look up.  “How... do you remember...” 

Deirdre smiled softly. “You were cooking, and I was writing the day's notes.”

He shot out of his seat.  Ran over to her.  Took her out of her seat and hugged her close.  "Oh, Deirdre, you are getting close.  Close to coming back,” he cried softly.

She cried; she didn't want to disappoint him.  Not after hearing and seeing him like that.  “It is what I remember, just now.” She admitted.  There is no point in lying.  It solved nothing.

“Yes,” he nodded.  He gave a weak smile.  “Of course, baby.”  He pulled back to give her air.  Realizing for the first time how close he was smothering her.  

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize,” he stumbled with his words.  Andreu looked overly worried.  

Deirdre grabbed a hold of his hand.  I looked him in the eye.  “Breath, it's alright.”

He took a deep breath.  “I am just emotional that you remembered a small window of our lives.  I am thankful.” 

Deirdre couldn't help but smile.  She also couldn't help the feeling of getting closer and wrapped her arms around him.   Which she did, laying her head against him.  Closing her eyes, feeling relaxed as she did.  

She heard him sigh as his hands rested on her hips.  Deirdre couldn't help but feel that he was an essence of home.  She felt safe, protected, and security.  She had no idea that such a feeling existed in a person.  She didn't want to let go.

A chuckle rubbled as he held her.  “You just made me a happy man, Deirdre.  Memory or no memory.  Just having you in my arms is good enough for me.”  

Deirdre knew then; she was in good hands.  He loved her, and he was willing to go on a reset for her.  ‘A very good man.’

He helped her back into her seat, and they continued to eat.  Once done, Andréu cleared everything up.  While Deirdre read the pages.  Finding out that Catalonias were recelent people.  They also were choked into silence.  Thanks to the leaders of Spain and their ruling neighbors.

As she ate, another memory came.  This one showed them debating over the topic of a found item at the site.  Which Deirdre had just read was an old cathedral.  From it, remnants of a shattered cross, because it was made out of clay and not from previous metals.  Deirdre had worked hard on placing it back together.

It was a stormy night, humid.  They couldn't go out because of the heavy rain season.  She was working on placing the cross back together with light and a magnifying glass.  Andreu was drawing up more designs from the photographs she had taken.  It was nice, the two of them working, a rare sight to see.

Then one of their fellow villagers came storming in.  Yelling at Andreu, “¡Él está aquí, él está aquí! ¡Él no está feliz!”  Whatever was going on, it made Andreu hurried to get up from his seat.

“What's going on,” I asked him.

“The funder for our dig site is here,” he told her.  Which made her want to follow him.  He waved her to sit down.  

“No, please.  The little interaction you have with him, the better.  He is not someone you can impress, Deirdre.”  He had grabbed her notes and left from there.

“Who is our benefactor,” she asked him.  Hoping that he would give her an answer.

She saw the surprise in his eyes.  “Antonio Rio, a self-made investor.  He made millions from stocks, computers, and buying history.  Then renting it out to museums and schools.  Anything to make a profit.”

Deirdre glanced down at her notes.  “Is he paying me…?”

“You, me… No one else here knows why we are here.  They just ended up here from their tours or the locals that live here.”  He took a deep breath.  “I know this seems a lot.  But it is the truth.”

She nodded her head.  “I am very detailed in my notes.  I am glad about that. “  She looked into his eyes.  “I know that you have no reason to lie to me; thank you.”

Andreu smiled, “I have nothing to gain if I lied.  I have everything to lose if I did.”  That alone made her heart skip a beat.  “You are very wise, Andreu.”

She felt that her life was in safe hands.  As the sun had set.  She felt a growing need to sleep.  Her body was crashing.  Her eyes felt like Lead was trying to anchor them shut.  “Tired,” even her voice sounded sluggish.  

Andreu came to her side and helped her up.  Supporting her with an arm around her.  He led her toward the back of the area.  Where a king-looking size bed took most of the room.  Then a cupboard off to one side. 

He helped her out of her clothes and into a nightgown of shirt and shorts.  Helped pull back the blankets and sheets.  Where she climbed in, and he covered her up.  “Night…”

“Good night, my love,” she heard him whisper as she slipped away.

The next morning, Deirdre woke up.  It took her a moment to remember where she was.  Along with the feeling of why someone had their arms around her.  Realizing it was Andreu Caballe, the man who loved her and who she had loved.  Before her memory had left her.

She stayed where she lay, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her.  For once, not fighting with herself.  Just feel.  She closed her eyes, allowing her breathing to slow.  She couldn't help it.  He relaxed her like nothing else could.

After what felt like time slipped on forever.  Andreu had woken up; she just faked sleep, waiting.  He mumbled softly that she was beautiful before he got up.  She heard him get dressed and left the room.

She blinked her eyes open.  She stretched and decided to get dressed too.  Deirdre pushed herself out of bed and went to the cupboard and found her clothes.  She quickly dressed and made her way out and sat at the table.

Andreu was already gone, and so was the jug.  She glanced around the room.  She was surprised at how large the place was for something that was historically built.  As well as preserved, something that was not well done in many places.  She wondered what they were planning to do with the place before the crash of society. 

‘They seemed to have a plan.  A housing project?  It seemed to be the case.’  Thoughts kept coming to her of what they were planning.  She shook her head.  ‘Nothing to speculate now,’ she reasoned with herself.  

After a few minutes, Andreu came back and, with him, a woman.  “What do you mean, she still hasn't shown much improvement?!”  By the sounds of it, she sounds like a British woman.

“She’s right here,” Deirdre called out.

This caused the British woman to turn around and gasp.  "Oh, right you are, dear.  How are you?”

“My head still hurts,” she explained.  Which it does, now that there is a sharp female voice causing it.  “Sorry…”

“Oh, yes, Sarah O'Conner, from Sussex.  We took a holiday and met you in Barcelona.  You helped guide us here.  You were very helpful, my dear.”  The woman smiled.  

Deirdre smiled back at the fifty-year-old woman.  “I am glad that I was of service, ma'am.”  

“Oh, yes, very.  You even went out on tours with us to educate us on the local history.  It was the most educational experience I ever had,” Sarah had gone on.  

“Wow, I'm sorry that I don't remember it.”  Sorrow settled into her heart.  

Sarah looked like she had a determined look in her eyes.  “That is it. I want a gathering for everyone to share their memories of you.  We can also have a BBQ or something.”

Andreu looked worried. “I am sure you're going to get this planned, regardless of how we feel about this.  This might overwhelm Deirdre.”

“Oh, you worry too much.  But yes, I will get this done.”  Sarah gave a knowing smile.  “I will see you two there!”  She turned and marched herself out.  

“She doesn't take no, does she,” asked Deirdre.

“Not that I have seen,” replied Andreu.

Deirdre shivered as she realized that she was doomed with the British woman's plans.  After breakfast, they went out to the site.  Andreu wanted to see if there were signs of someone else being there.  Once there, they went to the place where Andreu had found Deirdre.  From there, he found a set of tracks of someone leaving the area.  

He followed the footsteps, as she had noticed.  But she stayed at the cathedral.  She walked around, raking her eyes around.  Looking for anything—another historic clue.  

After a while, Andreu came back to her.  He looked troubled.  

“What's wrong,” she asked him.

He looked at her and then the direction he came from.  “The person who hit you.  Came from our encampment,” he told her.  “It's someone we know.”

She stumbled back and happened to sit on a rumble piece of building.  Deirdre gasped as she was struggling to breathe.  “Someone who hit me, stole my memories…”  Fear ate at her.  “Knows me?”

Andréu nodded his head.  His eyes flashed with anger.  “I can handle a rogue person coming in.  But someone that knows us, no.  This is too much.”

A tear left Deirdre's eye.  “And we have to go to that BBQ together,” she whimpered.  She wished that they didn't have to go.  Not after finding out the realization that they did.  “Andreu, how am I going to act calm?”

“You can be stressed; you did lose your memory,” he told her.  He was trying to be calm for her.  But his tone had a slight edge; he was worried.  “I will be next to you.”

“Okay.”

They searched the area.  Only to find that something was taken, but they couldn't figure out what it was.  Just by an indent in the earth.  If Deirdre could only tell from its shape, it was a small statue.  

“Do you have an idea of what the statue could be,” asked Andreu.

Deirdre sighed, “I don't remember exploring that section.  None of the notes said anything about it.  It's a cathedral,” she reasoned.  “It could be a small angel or a baby Jesus.  Those two options are the only things that come to mind.”

“That makes sense,” he glanced up.  “We better head back.  Sarah will be crossed if we don't and will send out search parties.”

With a heavy heart, Deirdre followed Andreu back to Jaca.  To her, it had not felt like they had been out for very long.  When they got back, Jaca came together with a meal, with tables and chairs.  It made Deirdre think of a grand Thanksgiving.  It was a bit much in her eyes.

Sarah found them, she came rushing up to them.  “What do you think, this looks grand, doesn't it?!”  She was so very cheerful.  

“Please,” begged Deirdre.  “I don't think I can handle this.”

“Oh, what nonsense…”  Sarah waved her off.  “This is to help you,” she gushed at her.

Andreu marched up to Sarah, getting between them.  Deirdre was thankful that he had done that.  "Stop, Sarah,” he glared at her.  “We just found out that someone had hit Deirdre.  Which was the cause of her memory loss.  That someone is here, in Jaca.”

Sarah gasped as her hand covered her mouth.  Looking towards Deirdre with concern in her eyes.  “I…I had no idea.  Are you alright, dear?”

“No,” she shook her head.  Feeling dizzy as tears leaked.  “I want my memories.  I want my life back,” she choked.  

She felt Andreu hug her.  She wrapped her arms around him.  She felt safe with him.  

“I'm sorry,” she heard Sarah.  “I was trying to help.”

“No, it's alright, we will do the BBQ.”  Deirdre heard his kind voice.  “We need to act like we didn't know.  This will act as a good cover.”

Deirdre had not thought of that.  She took a few deep breaths and pushed herself away from Andreu.  She placed a smile on her lips.  Wiping the tears from her eyes, she was ready for what comes.  

Sarah led them through the busy clusters of people and tables.  As she explained, Deirdre was the person of the hour and was going to the head table.  With Andreu at her side.  

As they passed many people and tables.  People had said many hellos to them.  It was tiring, to say the least.  Once at the table, Deirdre grabbed a strawberry and Kiwi drink.  While Andreu had a mix of orange juice, from many kinds of oranges.  

Sarah rang a bell, silencing the crowd.  “First, we will have food.  Then if people want to share some memories, they can.”  She rang the bell again and sat down.  

This time a group of servers came out with wooden trays.  Carrying dishes on top of them.  Deirdre could tell that Sarah had planned everything.  Making her feel sorry for these people.  They shouldn't have to work.

When they came around, Deirdre grabbed the dish with chicken.  While Andreu had a stake. She was wowed by the lot of options.  She had thought that since the downfall of computers, things would be hard to get.

As they ate, more concerns came to her head.  But the food was good; she couldn't deny that.  Deirdre was battling with herself yet again.  It was becoming an old habit.

Soon after, the food had been eaten.  People had slowly come forward.  Sharing a memory about her.  Apparently, she was a local historian to these people.  Knowing more than even the locals did, but the locals didn't mind she had found more than they did.  They had even wanted to know.

One of those locals walked up with a smile on his face.  He spoke in the rapid-fire Catalonian language.  Deirdre looked at Andreu for help as she looked towards the man again.  Andreu leaned over to her and whispered, “He says thanks to you; you have enriched and brought back our lost culture.  You revived Catalonia's lost history.”

Deirdre smiled, “Gracias.”  She learned a few words in Spanish; it was enough to communicate her manners.  

Next was a teenage girl.  Deirdre had no idea teenagers were interested in history anymore.  She had a smile on her face.  “Thanks to you, I didn't know there was so much art.  Not just in this region, but all of Spain.  I love it!”

The girl skipped off.  Causing Deirdre to laugh, “I had no idea that I had caused such an effect.”  

After that, more and more people came forward.  Telling similar stories.  Deirdre had noticed that Andreu had kept an eye out for anyone acting strange.  Deirdre was also doing the same.  She noticed one man who was staying close to the shadows and pointed him out to Andreu.

“That is Hugo Delango, not a good man to run into.”  His jaw grinds.  “He is a dangerous man, an underground arts dealer.  Why is he here?”

“Do you think…?”  She started, but she couldn't finish her statement.  Deirdre was too afraid to even finish that thought.

“I'm afraid he could have,” he darkly replied.  

She shivered; she turned back to the kind words and good food.  She ate more chicken, along with pineapple.  Even with the knowledge of the dangerous man, she still had a good time.  By the end of the whole thing, she became not just full of food but also stories.  She thanked everyone that came and shared their moments with her.

Deirdre was tired and wanted to go back to her private room.  She turned to Andreu, and he helped up.  It was all it took.  They were walking back towards the military building.  Their fingers laced, as she was the one that did it.  

Andreu gave her a warm smile.  His eyes sparkled.  He felt right as she held his hand within her own.  He never pushed her.  She felt safe and relaxed with him.  

When they got to the military complex.  They were stopped by the very man they were trying to avoid, Hugo Delango.  He wore all black with silver finishings.  The way he looked up close reminded her of a snake. 

“¿Qué te parece el regalo que te hice? ¿El chichón que tienes en la cabeza?”  Hugo had a smirk on his lips.

Andreu growled, “¡Con esa maniobra le quitaste sus recuerdos!"  

Deirdre stepped around Andreu and stood behind him.  Hoping to keep Hugo away from her.  She knew from Andreu's anger that it was bad.  “Why did you hit me?”

This got Hugo to look at her.  “You were just there,” he told her simply.  “I was getting the statue.”  

“FOR WHAT,” she stressed out.  “There is no one to buy it.”

Hugo glared as he crossed his arms.  “Details…”  As he looked at her bandaged head.  “I didn't mean to hit hard.”

“What statue,” she couldn't help but ask.  She was very curious.  ‘If I was going to get hit for something, I might as well be hit for something good.’  

“The statue is of Seraphiel,” Hugo answered.  “From the fallen cathedral of Santa Eterna.”

“I know the legend,” started Deirdre.  “Centuries ago, Santa Eterna was one of the most revered cathedrals in the Pyrenees, attracting pilgrims from across Spain and beyond. Built on ancient, sacred ground, it was said that the cathedral housed an eternal flame in its heart, a divine fire that was gifted by the heavens, symbolizing protection, purity, and eternal life. The flame was watched over by Seraphiel, an angel sent by the divine to safeguard the flame and the faithful.

“The story of Santa Eterna began when a hermit, guided by divine visions, was instructed to build the cathedral on the site of a forgotten pagan temple. The land was believed to be a confluence of spiritual forces, a place where the veil between the mortal world and the heavens was thin. The hermit was told that once the eternal flame was lit, it would bring peace and prosperity to the region. With the support of the local community and nobility, construction began, and after years of effort, Santa Eterna was consecrated. Pilgrims soon flocked to its doors, seeking blessings and healing from the flame’s power.

“For centuries, Seraphiel, a guardian angel, served as the eternal sentinel of the cathedral. Appearing only to the most faithful, Seraphiel was a symbol of unwavering divine protection. Under the angel's watch, Santa Eterna became a place of miracles; illnesses were cured, the blind regained their sight, and crops flourished in the lands surrounding Jaca. Legends say that Seraphiel’s wings glowed with the light of the eternal flame, and at night, one could see a celestial glow emanating from the cathedral’s highest tower.

“But with prosperity came envy. A secret order, known only as The Shadowed Hand, sought to claim the flame for themselves, believing that if they controlled it, they could wield the power of eternal life and divine judgment. The order infiltrated the clergy of Santa Eterna, sowing discord and turning some priests to their cause.

“One fateful night, under a blood-red moon, the Shadowed Hand struck. They shattered the sacred protections that held the eternal flame in place, intending to steal it. As they attempted to harness its power, a great calamity unfolded. The flame, once a beacon of peace, became unstable. It burst forth in a torrent of divine fury, engulfing the cathedral and the surrounding lands in a cataclysm of fire and light.

“Seraphiel, trying to save the cathedral and its people, was caught in the explosion of celestial energy. In the chaos, the angel’s wings were scorched, and their connection to the divine was severed. Santa Eterna collapsed in on itself, and the eternal flame was extinguished, leaving only smoldering ruins behind.

“Since that night, the region surrounding Santa Eterna has been abandoned, with only whispers of the tragedy remaining. It is said that Seraphiel, now a lost and broken angel, wanders the ruins, bound to the place where they once stood as protectors. Some say the angel is still guarding something, perhaps remnants of the eternal flame or perhaps the secrets of the Shadowed Hand’s final plot.

“Locals believe that the curse of Santa Eterna lingers. Travelers who dare approach the ruins claim to hear faint hymns carried on the wind or catch glimpses of a winged figure bathed in ghostly light. Some say that Seraphiel waits for the day a worthy soul will rekindle the flame and restore the angel to their former glory, while others believe that freeing the angel may unleash a terrible force that has been locked away for centuries.

“An old prophecy, now largely forgotten, speaks of a Chosen Flame Bearer, one who would come when the world is on the brink of darkness. This figure is said to be able to reignite the eternal flame, purifying the land and restoring balance between the mortal realm and the heavens. Whether this chosen one is a descendant of the hermit who built the cathedral or a stranger from afar remains unknown, but it is said that only they can find the remnants of the flame hidden deep within the ruined cathedral.”

“I am impressed,” stated Hugo in wonder.  “You know Catalonia's history.”  

Deirdre asked, “Where is the Seraphiel now?”  She hoped it wasn't damaged.

Hugo looked uneasy.  “I have it.  That is all you need to you”  He let out a puff of air.  “I am sorry for hurting you.  It was not my goal, or have you lost your memories, gatito.”  

Deirdre knew that she was not going to get anything else out of him.  She pulled on Andreu’s sleeve.  Directing for them to leave.  He wrapped an arm around her.  Leading her away from Hugo.  

Once they were inside their rooms.  Andreu wrapped her in his arms.  “It's alright, my love.”  

She hadn't realized that she had started to cry.  “The Seraphiel was a legend that was lost in time,” she whimpered.  ‘Why did a man like Hugo have it?’  She wanted to scream or yell something to voice her injustice against it all.  She hated that she was a victim.

Andreu petted her head.  Ranking his fingers through her hair.  She nearly purred.  She calmed down from his display of affection.  Deirdre couldn't help it; he was that soothing.  

He then helped her towards the table.  Where he cleaned her head.  “It is looking much better.  We will let it breathe.”  He kissed her forehead.  

“I love you,” she blurted out.  Causing her to blink in thought and realize that she meant it.  She smiled at him once her mind and heart had aligned with each other.  She saw the confused look on Andreu’s face.  “I love you,” she said again.

That seemed to have woken him up.  He kissed her.  A feeling of sparks greeted her, making her breathless.  ‘Oh God…’  Her hands grabbed onto him.  

As soon as we're able to breathe.  “I love you,” Andreu told her as his eyes looked into hers.  He kissed her softly.  

She smiled, feeling a little dizzy.  Not from her head injury. But from the kiss.  

He took her hand and led her to the bedroom.  Where he helped her change clothes.  They snuggled in each other's arms as they fell asleep.  All the while, Deirdre couldn't help having a smile on her lips.  As she drifted off to sleep.