Where…. Am I?
Who am I?
These thoughts plagued the mind of a young man who had just awoken. He found himself in a wide open space in a location unknown to him, his mind devoid of memories of his identity. He clutches his head with both hands, writhing in pain from the incessant ringing in his ears.
My head hurts…..What happened? How did I get here? What is here?
Can’t….remember
He tried focusing his mind to recall his memories but his efforts were futile. Nothing came up, his mind was as empty as the open space he was standing in. After a while of fruitless pondering he decided to give up on recalling what might’ve happened. The ringing had finally subsided and he was now able to focus on what was happening around him.
He looked up to scan his surroundings. The landscape was filled with snow as far as the eye could see and nothing else in the vicinity. It was so cold the temperature must’ve been in the minus fifties though he was oddly unbothered by this. As he looked from end to end he noticed something happening far in the distance. Though far he could see the figure of two men. Fighting.
They moved at such incredible speeds that his eyes could barely process and he was only able to grasp bits and pieces of the battle. They both seemed to have weapons and as they clashed repeatedly the landscape around them was altered and rent, the air tore and screamed. They fought for what felt like considerable amount of time though very little in actuality. After a few clashes the both of them stopped. They paused to stare at each other, looking for openings, each one trying to predict the next move of his opponent. Finally, one of them, a man with black hair and dark skin, garbed in the apparel of a highly ranked soldier makes his move. He rushes at his opponent at insane speeds, much faster than he’d been in their previous clashes.
His opponent is caught off guard by his jump in speed and fails to react properly. He very slightly dodges a slash aimed at his head and takes damage to his left eye. He jumps back to recover himself but his opponent is on him again, relentlessly slashing at him, knees, arms, torso, over and over. He successfully blocks each attack but he’s slowly being overwhelmed. He eventually fails to block one attack and the force of it sends him flying through the snow. The dark skinned man quickly closes the gap again and attacks, kicking his opponent out of the snow and high into the air. His opponent recovers while suspended and bolts back to the ground at full force, brandishing his weapon at his opponent. The dark skinned man equally swings his weapon to counter this and the two of them clash. A huge shockwave is the result, the power of it so immense, it completely clears the area around them of snow.
And all the while this happened the young man watched with awe. Although his memory was missing he could tell that these men were not “normal” people in the slightest. What are those people? How can they do that? If I don’t leave here soon, I might get obliterated before I even get to remember my name. Wouldn’t even be worth a thought
As the two men fought, their fighting progressed through the area, coming in the direction where he stood. He kicked his legs out of the thick snow, turned his back and fled. Willing his legs to carry him as far away from the scene of the battle as possible. As he ran he could feel the earth constantly quaking from the sheer force of their clashes and blades of wind tore at his skin.
Both men are blown away by the force of the clash but quickly right themselves. The dark skinned man had his weapon knocked out of his hand, he looks in the direction it landed and concludes its too far to reach without his opponent attacking him. He knits his eyebrows and the energy surrounding him starts to rise. He’s gotten serious and looks ready to end this fight. His opponent responds in kind. They rush at each other one last time. The man with a damaged eye thrusts his blade at his opponent at high speed aiming for his head. The dark skinned man just dodges to the right but his opponent swings his sword down in the direction he moved. Before the sword can reach him, the man catches his opponent by the wrist with his left hand, stopping the attack in all its force. And with his right he gathers energy that had an vile feel to it.
Venerable Lance
He thrusts his hand at his opponents chest and the energy blasts right through him, making a gaping hole in his torso where his organs once where, ending both his life and the battle.
The attack causes a huge explosion and the force of it catches up to the young man who was running to safety. It blows him away with such force that every bit of wind in his body is blown out him. He flies back several tens of meters from where he stood and gets buried under heaps of snow.
He digs himself out of the snow and gasps for air, breathing heavily to recover from the shock. He’s able to breathe normally after a few minutes. He gets up and looks at his surroundings and is shocked by the sight before him. There’s a huge crater were a large patch of snow once was and the earth was cracked in several places. “People” did this? He shook his head in disbelief. He was very lucky to be alive after being in the range of that battle.
But what now? Where would he go, no memories and nothing else on him but his now tattered clothing trapped in this Iceland. Horrible day to wake up with amnesia.
He turns in the opposite direction and starts walking, hoping to find shelter. Before he can walk up to ten meters the dark skinned man suddenly popped up into his path. From the view of the young man it seemed like the man had appeared out of thin air but he was simply moving too fast for him to perceive.
He stops in his tracks, his body tensing. What if the man was hostile? What if he attacked him? He clearly stood no chance against a monster like him, if the man chose to attack he’d be dead faster than the other guy was. His forehead beaded with sweat as his mind raced to think of a way out of the situation. Maybe the man wasn’t going to attack and he could talk himself out of this situation.
Just as he was about to speak the man opens his mouth and spoke first “…………”
He says something but the young man couldn’t understand what he said. The language felt familiar to what he spoke and understood but at the same time very much incomprehensible.
The dark skinned man speaks again, this time even louder in hopes he might hear better but he still couldn’t understand it.
The man pauses annoyance slowly creeping onto his face as he got no response. He seems to think for a while and speaks again
“……….. otherworlder……..”
This time the young man understood something that was said and responds “otherworlder? What’s that?”
At his response a look of realization dawned on the man’s face as he now understood what was wrong and why the young man hadn’t responded. He shakes his head, taps something on his left wrist and speaks again, this time in a language that the young man could understand clearly. He says “Who are you? What is your name? Are you a voyager resident to this planet?”
The young man replies “My name? My name….. I think my name is…. Yuga. And that’s all I can remember” With those words the young man collapsed and passed out.
What’s this sound? Music, it sounds nice, sad but nice and at the same time it feels….. ominous. Wait, everyone!
Yuga woke up with a gasp. It was a dream. That sound though, it felt very familiar. He rubs his eyes with his hands and looks around. He was sitting upright in a bed in what seemed like a small house. He looks to his right and there’s a window and outside of it was a view of falling snow. To his left was the dark skinned man eyeing him warily. He sat on a chair, hands clasped together, his upper body hunched slightly. He was looking directly at Yuga who’d just awoken, assessing him with his eyes as if he’d been wondering what to do with him.
“You shouted in your sleep and then suddenly woke up, did you dream of something about yourself?” asked the man “Are your memories finally back?”
Memories?. Yes memories, he had told the man that he had no memories of himself. This was very much true. “No, still nothing. I did dream though, I dreamt of…. Music.”
“Music?” asked the man in surprise, not expecting a response like that.
“Yeah, music.”
“Where is this?” asked Yuga.
“If you’re asking where you’re in at the moment, you’re in an abandoned house on the outskirts of a nearby village. If you’re wondering your location is in general , this is planet Lehrone. There’s a war ongoing here.”
A war. Is that why they were fighting?
“Who are you?” asked Yuga.
“My name is Kirveas Harathole,” the man replied “and that’s all you need to know”.
Yuga sat and stared into the air in front of him for about a minute, processing the information he’d just received. He suddenly remembers something and turns to ask “You mentioned something about ‘otherworlder’, what’s that?”
“Otherworlder, yes. It’s a term used to describe non human intelligent life on planets we occupy. That is, assuming we find any.” Kirveas replies.
“So there’re no otherworlders? Then why did you mention it?”
“Because of your looks” Kirveas answers.
Looks?
“What about it?”
“See for yourself”
He turned to the window on his right and focused on his reflection in the glass pane. He had ice blue eyes and fair skin, and hair that was closer to torquoise. But it wasn’t just torquoise, it was light green, then it was blue, then it was a mix of them. His hair glowed slightly and changed colours of its own will. Visually he looked young, maybe between sixteen to 18. He stared at himself for a moment then turned to ask “Are my looks that odd?”
“I have been to many planets in my lifetime, but never seen anyone like you” Kirveas assured.
“Guess that makes me special” says Yuga.
He jumps down from the bed but as he tries to stand upright his legs give up and he collapses to the ground.
“You’re not in any shape to move around for now, that attack caused you some damage. You’ll be better in a few days.”
“I see.” Yuga says. He ignores his sleeping hind limbs and starts pulling himself forward with his arms. “Need to get food, is there any food in this house? Just tell me where it is, I’ll find my way there.”
Kirveas merely stares at him with a look of amusement and something that might’ve been respect. He points at the room across from the one they were in and says “Check the drawers in that room, I stocked up on fruits from the area. You can have as many as you want.”
“Ok, thanks.” Yuga replies and continues his crawling all the way to the room across.
After a while of crawling, reaching and acquiring, he crawls his way back into the room where Kirveas was, his left arm wrapped around several fruits. He returns to find Kirveas cleaning his weapon, the one he used in his recent battle. A long sword with patterns etched through out the length of its blade.
Yuga finds himself a spot on the ground, sits upright and places the fruit before him, finger on his lip, deciding which fruit looks the most delicious so he can save it for last.He finally decides on the with red colour, the least visually appealing of the batch and starts munching on it silently. He pauses for a while to let the taste sink in and shrugs. “Not bad.” He continues eating in silence and doesn’t speak until he’s done.
He finally speaks up, breaking the silence “You asked me if I’m a voyager. What’s a “voyager”? Are you a voyager?”
“Yes, I am a voyager” replied Kirveas
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“So you voyagers travel around a lot or does it mean something else?” Yuga asked recognizing that Kirveas meant something specific when he had asked him the question.
“That definition isn’t exactly incorrect” Kirveas replied “but we’re not speaking of normal travels. Voyagers…. Are those who traverse the stars.”
Stars?“You travel through space.”
“Precisely, though there isn’t much of a need for that these days. You seem unfamiliar with the term, this might be a more remote planet but that’s still odd considering you’re a voyager yourself”
“I’m a voyager? What makes think so?”
“You were in range of my attack yet here you alive with nothing more than a few bruises and a temporary loss in ability to walk.”
“I’m lucky.” Yuga replies
“Maybe, but that clearly wasn’t luck. Any normal human would have been obliterated to nothing if caught in the wave of that attack but here you are, alive.” Kirveas elaborates. “Not to mention I can feel drive energy above the threshold emitting from you”
Drive energy?
“I’m guessing the man you killed was also a voyager and you can do all ‘that’ because you’re voyagers”
“Yes.”
“That man, who was he?”
“An unaffiliated voyager resident to this planet. He mistook me for one of the monarch’s forces.”
Yuga looks at Kirveas, observing him, assessing how true that story could be with a passive expression on his face. “From all you’ve said, I can tell you’re not from here. Why did you come here?”
“I’m looking for someone” Kirveas replied with a cold gaze.
Yuga shrugs. His story might be entirely true, or there’s some lies mixed or it could be complete bullshit but that didn’t matter at the moment. He was stuck here for now and there was no way around that. Better to get back to rest. And with that he climbed back onto the bed with a bit of difficulty and went to sleep.
After a while Yuga drifts into a sound sleep. Kirveas, confirming he had slept, sheaths his sword and quietly leaves the house.