A field and a Phonebooth

“I’m bored” He thought aloud. “Why does she want to call me from here? Why is there a phone booth in the middle of a field anyway?”
Leaning up against the open frame of the booth’s door, he raised his eyes to the dark clouds forming overhead.
“Well, I hope she hurries; I don’t feel like sleeping outside in a storm tonight.”
His small, motorized bike leaned against the outside of the booth. Strapped onto the back of the bike were three things. The top item was a sleeping bag. It was loosely rolled, but held firmly in by small green cord. Below the bag was a suitcase. This held two changes of clothes and several bags of rations. The final item was a large chest made of dark, grainy wood. Inside of the chest was the collection of items he had gathered over the last year. He had medals from battles fought in distant lands, mystic beads and trinkets from exotic cities in the south and some odd machine parts abandoned by others in the technologically advanced cultures of the west. Most important to him though, was the photo album. He had pictures of old friends and places. Each photo brought back to him a memory of the past. The book was incomplete however, which was why it was his most valued possession.
One year ago he had awoken in the care of a gentle old woman. She had lived in a small village on the fringes of the west. He had been badly wounded and even after regaining consciousness he had needed two weeks of care to fully recover. In those two weeks he had discovered that he had no recollection of his past at all. Mierva, the woman who had cared for him, could tell him only that she had found him in the street, bleeding and near death. Once he was well enough to be up and travelling she had given him the photo book. In it were three pictures. She said that they had been the only personal effects he had possessed when she found him. The first was a picture of two children. When he had seen it, his memory flashed and he remembered. The photo was him and his sister as children. They had been playing in a park that day and had been given the picture by someone important, though he could not remember who. The second picture was of him and two of his friends. One was dressed in the robes of a mage and the other was a mercenary. As memories flooded back to him, he remembered that the three of them had been in an army, fighting over a cause he could not recall, but the three of them had been inseparable. They were not only close friends, but had also been known as the Trinity edge, because of their capacity to function as a team in battle. He knew their names, but had not remembered them at the time. The final picture was a faded, torn picture of a door. This picture had not brought back memories, but instead filled him with a sense of apprehension and fear. All he had remembered was that something lay beyond that door, something he felt he’d had to deal with or come to terms with.
After that experience, he had decided to go out into the world to find his sister and two friends, thinking that they could help him recover more of his lost memories. For two months he wandered from town to town in the West. Finally he found the next picture in an old shop in the heart of a western city known as Freythia. The shop had been filled with antique items and old machinery. There he had seen a picture of himself standing with his mage friend and the old man who had been running the shop. As memory came back to him, he had asked the old man for the photo and explained his situation. The old man gladly gave up the photo and had told him about the war between the technologically advanced West and the East which specialized in magical arts. The old man had then given him the bike and the old chest, as well as the supplies.
From Freythia, he had set out to find more photos and more clues to his past. He had gone east, to the first major city of the magical kingdoms. On recommendation he sought out a diviner known for her amazing accuracy.
In the city of Cilest he met Elmia. He had heard wonderful things of her magical talent, but had not expected her to be young and beautiful. She had brown hair cut to hang just over her shoulders and run down to the small of her back. She had been wearing a form fitting white shirt with sleeves that ran along the curves of her arms. Over the shirt she had worn a sleeveless blue leather coat with gold trim. She had black leggings and brown riding boots that came up to her knees. Around her neck was a ruby that seemed to catch light and reflect it back.
He had been struck dumb by her looks and in typical fashion had fumbled around for words. That exchange he remembered clearly.
“Hi, I mean, hello, I’m looking for Elmia the Sorceress?” he had said, stuttering.
“Yes, how may I help you?” her voice had a full, gentle tone to it, filled with warmth.
“You’re Elmia!? But you’re so young!”
She had laughed. “So every sorceress on the planet is an old hag? I suppose you think that all wizards have beards and pointy hats too!”
He had blushed then, turning as red as the ruby she had worn that day.
“Oh, relax Samuel. I knew you would be surprised, just as I knew you would come and find me today.”
He stumbled, startled that she had known his name, but then he had remembered that she was a diviner and could probably see into the future.
“Have you known I would come for a long time then?”
“About a month ago I knew someone would be coming to seek my help, someone who genuinely needed it, not just those silly people who come ask me who they will fall in love with or if they will have good luck next week. But no, it was not until two days ago that I knew your name. Nor do I know anything of what will happen beyond this part of the conversation. It turns out that the future is rather fickle at the best of times, with you it seems the future wants to be more secretive than usual.”
After that the conversation had gone well. He had explained his story and Elmia had agreed completely and without hesitation to help him.
So for the last year, he had travelled to many places. Elmia would use her magic to try and see into his future. If that failed she would focus on the photos he possessed and would try to divine the location of other photos relevant to him. That usually worked and he would take his bike and ride off to find it. His journeys had taken him to strange places filled with wonder as well as boring places filled with mundane life. Three days ago Elmia had sent him a message to the inn where was he was staying and told him that she had seen the future again. She had seen that in three days she would know the location of the next photo and that he should drive northeast from the town until he reached a field. In that field she would contact him and that he would recognize her means of communication when he saw it.
Finally the phone rang.
“Hi Elmia, how are you?” He said, after picking up the phone.
“I’m good, as always Samuel. How are you?”
“Well, I’m wondering why I’m at a phone booth in the middle of a field, but you were right, I recognized it right away.”
“Of course I was right, I saw it in the future.” She said.
He shook his head, silently laughing at her blunt modesty.
“Anyways,” She said “I have seen the location of your next photo. You must travel to the Middle countries. There is a nation there known as Celvaria. It is the current staging ground of the war between the east and the west. The photo is held by a merchant who sells artwork made of plants. Why he sells plant art in the middle of a war seems beyond me, but I suppose to each there own.”
“Okay, thanks Elm” he said, using the nickname he had given her a few months after they had met. She had never complained about it, so he had continued to use the name for her.
“Say Sam” she said, using her own nickname for him. “have you given any thought as to why you lost your memory?”
“Not really, why?”
“Well, it’s just that you always seem to be sent to look for your memory in the strangest places, even areas that seem mundane have some history to them. I just wonder sometimes if this happened to you randomly or if there was some reason that you have been sent on this journey…”
He sighed, he had thought the same thing many times, especially when he looked back at the picture of the door.
“I have thought of that before Elm, but it doesn’t bring back my memories. All I can really do for now is keep going, if there is a purpose to all of this then I’m sure it’ll show itself in time. I… I’m not sure if that worries me yet or not…”
They were silent for a moment and then Elmia spoke up.
“Well, you know I’m by your side Sam, I won’t leave you to face whatever happens alone okay?”
Hearing her say that actually did make him feel better. “Thanks Elm, well, I’d better go, I have a long trip ahead of me to make it to the Middle countries. Goodbye Elm.”
“Goodbye Sam, oh, and take some time to enjoy the beauty of that field Sam, I couldn’t see it clearly, but I feel like once you reach Celvaria there may not be things as pretty and peaceful to witness.”
He heard the click as she put down the phone. Hanging up his end he sighed again.
Getting onto the motorized bike, he turned it on and set his course towards Celvaria. As he drove off he took Elmia’s advice and took in the peaceful scenery around him. Long grass rolled over gentle hills that were spotted with sunlight which came through holes in the cloudy ceiling above. He smiled, thinking about how the scene somehow reminded him of Elmia and her warm yet sometimes random personality. He drove off with the smell of summer grass and the feel of the wind from the plains at his back.