Nov. 2, 2014:
Okay, before I start off, I'd like to point out that this is my original work and one day, if I'm lucky, I will be able to reach a point where, with some minor tweaks, this can get published, so I may cut this off abruptly and request its deletion in order to maintain secrecy.
Second, this is the second time I am posting this, and I will be going through and labeling the three separate chapters that I've done in order to let the admins find them and bin them for me.
Third, I'm reposting so that I can keep my book on a single thread, so with that, I'm going to post the first four chapters all at the same time, so let's begin, shall we?
Spoiler (Click to Show)
I feel two things I do not expect. Something cold and hard lies beneath my left palm. Something warm squishes under my right palm. I can’t be certain what they are. My vision is useless. I see nothing but a mass of blur speckled with black splotches.
I try to think, to focus, to calm, to remember, but my mind is too scattered to be able to piece anything together. I sit there in silence for a good long while, trying to repair my tattered mind, trying to recall anything that can help me figure out what is going on, though all I find is useless to me right now.
I let myself lay back, momentarily forgetting that I’m lying on a hard surface. I grimace as my head dings against the surface.
Metal.
That’s all I can think as I hear the noise my head makes against the table, or whatever I am laying on. I don’t know why, but the pinging noise seems to make the pain disappear. The pain doesn’t matter as I try to recall that noise. My mind slows slightly to try and think straight, but to no avail, I cannot get it to focus enough, it’s still too scattered. I’ve begun to sort out my mind, but it’s a slow process, and my vision only begins to focus in at the same sluggish rate as my mind.
I’m bleeding.
The thought hits me like a freight train as I sort out what squished beneath my hand. I can see a blur of red that encircles my hand.
Pressure. I need to apply pressure. I press both hands tight against where I think the wound is, my mind beginning to panic even more. How do I know to put pressure on a wound? I don’t know how I know. My mind delves further into its frenzy as the fact that I don’t know frustrates me. Should I move my hands? No, I shouldn’t. I don’t know if this is the correct thing to do, but I can’t let myself bleed more. I can’t let myself die.
I close my eyes, my mind somehow drifting off into the darkness of sleep. I don’t want to sleep, but I can’t help it.
I hear something squeak off to the side of me and my eyes open again. I’m not dead, that’s good. I think to myself before turning to see what had caused the noise. A figure stands in an opening in the wall. Tall, lightish-red, massive. What is that? Wait, maybe it’s a person, maybe not like me, but…I don’t know for sure.
“You’re awake,” the words are coarse, the voice strong and proud. It comes from the direction of the figure. It is a ‘person’. “How do you feel kiddo?”
My vision isn’t too clear yet, it’s better than what is was before I went under, but I still can’t make out more than outlines. I try to respond, but the words come out as little more than grunts and coughs, “Like freaking honey and rose-petals.”
“You’ve got a sense of humor, good,” he replies with a slight chuckle in his voice. The voice is too deep not to be male.
“What are you?” I ask, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Never seen a draconian kiddo?” The voice pounds through the air once more. My vision is clear enough to see his outline a bit clearer now. He begins to move forward, towards where I lay. Two large protrusions extend upwards from where I think the torso should be. Their shape is roughly like that of a triangle. A third protrusion, this one kind of long and skinny, extends from the bottom of his torso. Maybe…wings and a tail. Draconian sounds like dragon. Is this man part dragon? It doesn’t matter at the moment. I shake my head as best I can, I have never seen something like him before, or if I have, I don’t remember.
I feel a hand on mine. I realize now that both of mine are still held tight on my stomach. I ease the pressure off slowly, I don’t want to reopen the wound by being careless. My attention moves to the hand, it feels rough, almost scratching the backs of my hands.
Scales.
He’s scaled, strengthening the whole ‘part dragon’ assumption, but it feels kind of familiar. I don’t know why. I must have a frantic look on my face, because he calmly says, “Calm down kiddo, you’re making me nervous. Relax.”
I do as I’m told, but I can’t be sure why; I don’t know this man, and he could easily be lying to me, but I feel like I can and should trust him.
So many questions pound against the inner wall of my skull, but none can make it to my mouth. Only one thought seems to be able to make its way past my mind and escape past my lips. “I don’t remember who I am,” and it’s true, I have spent a few moments thinking, but I have no recollection of the past. I remember a lot of things, all of it information, but none of it experience.
“You probably blocked out a lot of memories. It looks like you went through quite a bit of trauma.” He responds. I didn’t think I had said it loud enough for him to hear me, but apparently I was wrong. I feel the scales leave my hands, and I slide my hands off of my stomach to the sides of me on the bed. “I found you,” he continues, “Out in a field. You would have bled out. I’m glad to see you pull through.”
I hear something moving and glance at him, he sits down on a chair near where I was laying. My vision is almost clear by now, and I can just barely make out the faint smile and the emerald eyes that take residence upon his face. “Thank you,” is all I can utter. I owe this man my life.
“Don’t mention it, however, I’m gonna ask again, don’t give me a smart ass answer,” he chuckles slightly, “How are you feeling kiddo?”
“Scared, confused, tired, wounded, but at the same time, determined,” The words leave my mouth without giving me time to think about them. The draconian’s questions seem to help me put my mind together, and his voice helps calm my mind. “I feel like I have a reason to keep going, a reason to keep living, but I don’t know what that reason is.”
“Well, that’s definitely better than giving up.” He says, his voice light and bouncy, but still bearing a heavy load of strength behind it. “I may not know your goal either, but I’m almost certain you’ll find it eventually.”
“I do know one thing though,” His voice changes rather quickly, he sounds more confident now, and is less comical about his statements. “You’re going to join Eletohm Company tomorrow Trexly, if you think you’re up to it. Though perhaps I may be rushing you a bit, maybe you’re still too weak for that.”
Weak. I am not weak. I cannot be weak. He’s challenging me, and I can’t back away, I can’t let him, or anyone see me as weak. “I’ll do it, wait…” I pause, thinking about his words, being called weak distracted me from the name he used, I parrot it quizzically. It sounds familiar, ‘Trexly,’ does it really belong to me though? Does he know who I am?
He reaches towards his chest, pulling a red piece of paper from inside his chestplate. It was stained with blood, probably my own. “I found this when I found you, it’s a letter of recommendation stating that one ‘Trexly Swipe’ is to be allowed to join Eletohm Company.” He explains slowly, shrugging a bit as he speaks. “I have no way of confirming that it’s you though, I ran the name, but came up empty. It’s odd, Eletohm Company has no record of your existence, but it’s all I’ve got to go on, so, for now, you’re Trexly Swipe, unless you’d like a different name kiddo.”
So it is not my name, but it’s a name, and that’s good enough for now I suppose. “I still don’t know your name.” I comment as he places the letter back in his armor. “I’d like something to address you as.”
“I won’t bore you with the long title I normally get addressed as, my name is Tarcon Silvias Vrah.” His air of confidence almost made me shudder at the name, I do know this man, I’ve heard of him before, but I do not know him personally I don’t think.
I attempt to sit up as I had done the last time I was awake, taking my movements slowly. Tarcon notices what I’m doing, “Hey, you shouldn’t try to sit up, you need rest still.”
“No, I don’t, I feel helpless just laying here staring at the ceiling. I need to make sure I can actually move.” I say with a bit of a grunt. The movements are making my stomach throb some, it hurts.
“If you’re going to be stubborn about it, let me help,” he sighs, placing one hand on my back and another on my shoulder to help me sit up. Once I’m sitting I rotate my hips to turn my body. More pain comes as I turn towards him, my feet hanging over the side of the bed, but I ignore the pain.
“I have a few questions I’d like to ask.”
“Go ahead.”
I plan to use the questions to distract me from my pain. “Why did you help me?”
“Aaah, I cannot say really, I felt kind of sorry for you I guess,” he responds nonchalantly, as though he truly doesn’t know, but there’s a spark in his eye that tells me he does know why he did it. “It actually wasn’t my choice to save you; that would be Ketrona’s doing.”
“Ketrona?”
“He’s a dragon. Well, technically he’s a wyvern, but most people just call him a dragon. I was riding him when he saw you and made the decision to make an emergency landing to help you. I don’t know why he did though.”
“Oh, alright,” I’m slightly confused, but it doesn’t matter right now, I’m sure I’ll get to see this dragon eventually. “Why do you want me to join Eletohm Company exactly?”
“You’re just full of questions aren’t you? Wait…don’t answer that,” Tarcon let out a slight laugh as he spoke. I found myself laughing as well; it was funny in my mind. “Well, first, you were the one who wanted to join, I just found the letter of recommendation on your body. Second, if you get lucky, Eletohm Company may send you a lot of places, and perhaps that would help you find things to jog your memory. Third, EC could use all the help it can get.”
The last statement confused me slightly, “What do you mean by that last part?”
“Well, we…” We. He’s a part of Eletohm Company, perhaps I should have figured that out sooner. “We are trying to support the Steam Kingdom in their war against the Ice Kingdom, but we still haven’t fully recovered from the Corruption Raids. Our leader, the Admiral, has a screw loose if he thinks we’ll do anything more than get in the Steam Kingdom’s way in a fight, our infantry isn’t enough to sufficiently support the Steam Kingdom’s siege equipment. The Ice Kingdom’s mages and cavalry will…sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you with politics and war strategy.”
“No, continue, please.” I feel as though my mind is begging for him to keep going. I have completely forgotten the other questions I had. I am enthralled by his story.
“Hmm, I’ll tell you what,” Tarcon looks out a window in the room, seeing that the sun is no longer shining into the room, meaning that night has fallen, “You’re coming with me to the compound tomorrow, and the walk from here to the center of the city is fairly long. You get your sleep now, and tomorrow I’ll tell you a little more about the war.”
The agreement seems fair enough, and I respond with a nod. I’m not tired, but I can tell Tarcon is. He must be a bit older than he looks, or perhaps it’s just later than it feels.
He smiles softly towards me, “It’s a deal then, I’ll probably have a pile of clothes laid out for you when you wake up tomorrow, and if you wake up before me, feel free to wander my home a bit while you wait.”
Tarcon pats my shoulder gently before standing and leaving. I feel safe knowing he’ll be around. I lay myself down slowly as the door creaks shut. I put my hands under my head and find that I’m sleepier than I thought I had been. It doesn’t take long to drift off to sleep.
[/spoiler]
Spoiler (Click to Show)
There is a pile of clothes on the chair, just as Tarcon said there probably would be. He woke up first. It doesn’t matter much though. I turn around slowly, testing my mobility. Nothing seems to be hurting really.
As I go to change I find a wet rag on the chair as well as the clothes, and it doesn’t take much to figure out why. I change out of my clothes, then use the wet rag to wipe the dried blood off as best I can. I look at my skin. There’s a number of cuts, none of them very deep, but they’re all over. What kind of trouble did I get into? I think to myself. It was bad enough to make me decide to block everything that had happened to me. I look to my old clothes, which lay on the floor. I can’t even tell what I had been wearing before, the clothes are mangled and torn, not to mention soaked in blood. The clothes on the chair are not fancy by any means, but they don’t need to be. Function over fashion. I put on the clothes, which consist of clean undergarments, a pair of black jean pants, a white t-shirt, and a pair of black combat boots.
I open the door of the room and am immediately hit with the smell of cooked meat. My mouth begins to salivate. I don’t remember the last time I ate anything. I follow the smell through Tarcon’s home, taking note of how large the building and everything inside are. It doesn’t take long to find the kitchen, where Tarcon has already set the large table in the room’s center. I smile slightly at the sight of food, mainly bread and meat. “Pick a seat and help yourself kiddo.”
As I walk towards the table, Tarcon takes a seat at the very end of the table, the end where the food was gathered. I decide to sit just to his left. I want to be close to him, I feel safer there.
I find myself waiting for my host to eat before I eat anything myself. I also thank Tarcon again before I start eating. I seem to have some recollection of manners from before the incident. That’s what I’m going to call it, whatever happened to me, I’ll call it the incident.
“So, do you want to know more about the war still?” Tarcon asks me. I nod. “Alright, well, first, let me start off by saying that I think this war has reasons for starting besides what the two kingdoms claim as their reasons. The Steam Kingdom is highly defensive, and is more than capable at defending itself from the Ice Kingdom. The only problem is that the Steam Kingdom is not suited for offense, they train most of their military to use siege engines, because they normally use siege engines to halt construction by other kingdoms inside their territory.”
“Who started the fighting?”
“The Steam. I still don’t know what prompted them to attack, but that village never knew what hit them. The Ice and Steam were allies before this war started, and the Ice village was under attack by some raiders, and the Steam had sent some of its forces to help, and they did, but afterwards, the Steam forces turned their sights on the Ice village and tore it apart before they even knew what was happening.”
“Do you have any idea why they did it?” I ask, making no attempts to hide my curiosity. I don’t know why this interests me so much, or how I didn’t know about someth