Frightening and quiet is how I remember the first time I awoke in this place. Alone. Abandoned structures stood in place of those from a different world I vaguely recall, as if from a dream or a previous life. The arrangement of this crude town resonated familiarity, though I had only memory of it in concept, rather than experience, as if I'd studied it on a map. I knew these roads, but had never walked them; I felt like I was home, but nowhere was mine to rest my head. What my eyes saw was new to them, yet in my mind the world seemed primitive, like I knew of truths beyond this time.
Clearly, I had traveled, and I was weary and torn from my journey here, however it was and wherever it was from. Why is this the farthest back I can remember? Memory loss? But from what? I found no injury nor felt any pain in my head that some strike or fall might have caused. Perhaps poison? Some spell to shade my thoughts? I shook away conjecture and gave way to more immediate fears, befitting my situation, such as the need for survival.
I took inventory. My pack was light: some food and coin, simple hunting tools, and various trinkets. All familiar, like the landscape, and hidden behind their stories, as well. My clothes were plain, but in well enough order to pass as something more than a beggar, though likely not much. A cheap sword and shield were nothing of note, but I noted of them their unscathed condition. Now reminiscing, most all of my possessions were in pristine order. Whatever I was or was meant to be, I had either very recently chosen the path, or very recently been thrust upon it.
I heard a door slam shut somewhere in the town, followed by footsteps and rustling through foliage. I slung my pack over my shoulder, wielded my simple armaments as best I could, and retreated with the lightest step I could muster in the opposite direction of the sounds. I planned to avoid any sort of encounter until I could better collect my thoughts.
Once I gained what I felt was safe distance, I found a concealed area under a small grove, and placed down and looked over my things. I sat to reflect on the multitude of implications I could glean from the few moments since my rebirth. I am not alone. I am modestly supplied. I am armed. I have no idea how I got here. I don't know where I'm from. I have no memory of friends, nor of myself. My name is... is...
The sun glinted off one of the shiny trinkets in my pack as I fiddled through my things. A small whistle. I gave it a light tweet, though its sound was all but inaudible. I tried again, more deliberate this time: still to no avail, but for the boisterous charging of some creature it seemed to call. I heard it barreling through the trees with a rambunctious fervor, noisily revealing its ravenous excitement for tearing into my camp. It was only a few bounds from my position before I could see white fur and a flapping red tongue.
It was my dog. I knew him immediately. He must have lingered nearby after... well, after what, I'm not sure, but until I woke up, anyway, and followed from a distance after I fled the town. No sooner had he licked my hand in greeting had he begun nudging his way into the food stash, at which I realized my own hunger. I sat again and fed us both. It seemed the hunger was a distraction, as shortly afterward I fell into a calm that allowed me to plan some first steps.
Night would come soon, and probably with unwanted company. We needed shelter, somewhere away from civilization (what there is of it), and a food source. Such needs were convenient, as I needed simple work to keep my head clear until a proper time for contemplation. So, we went for a walk.
No comments:
Post a Comment