With mind disordered, a single man walked through a silent forest, cloaked by a thick mist. With a pale blue light illuminating the otherwise pitch black darkness of the dense forest, only the sound of one step after the other, footfalls landing on a damp underbrush. No sounds of insects, of wind weaving through trees and rustling their leaves. If not for the somewhat distorted looking moon above, one would not even know what this place looked like. With the feeling of the cold and moist air on his face to keep him aware and awake, the man continued to trudge onward, unsure of his destination. His only driving force being his instinct, bearing down on him and heightening his senses, his fear prevalent in his short and hastened breathing.

He didn’t know what was wrong, but those instincts deep within him were screaming at him, telling him things were not as they should be, and to run. Run away. Keep running. Anywhere. Nowhere. Everywhere. Don’t stop. The silence was unnatural. Even his rushed breathing was barely audible. Normally, there would always be some sort of sound coming from surroundings, from nature. The humming of a fan, the whistling of the wind, the contact of rubber tires on asphalt, the barely audible sounds of nature’s inhabitants going about their business, collecting pollen or crumbs from the floor, the scurrying of creepy crawlies under the floorboards. Anything and everything; silent. Even if one doesn’t realize it, the absence of such causes disarray, similar to a sensory deprivation chamber.

How long had he walked? How many inclines and declines had he traversed? Since when did the mist clear and the blurry moon replace the distorted moon? He didn’t know. His mind was already preoccupied trying to organize itself from something else. He wasn’t sure. It was there, all the thoughts and information he wanted, but his mind was passing through everything too fast, unable to focus long enough on one thing. He could barely register the fact he was moving onward and that time was slow and unusual, a growing migraine causing his eyesight to go awry and blurry, his thoughts even more messy. Time seemed stretched, and even his body didn’t seem right.

While his mind could recognize that he had been walking without pause, and that he had long exceeded his stamina and should be experiencing muscle fatigue, his body was still in optimal condition, no worse than before. No… perhaps better than before. This disjointed feeling between mind and body caused him to momentarily falter in his footing, stumbling slightly as his gastric juices threatened to evacuate his stomach. Even his hunger was currently absent - something unusual for him. Gritting his teeth, a single thought managed to make its way into focus.

One foot after the other...

Keeping that one thought as focused as he could, the hazy look in his eyes began to vanish as his sight became honed in a single direction, he lax facial expression tensing up in determination. With more assuredness in his actions, his feet began to move once more, rhythmic in their timing, and no longer wavering to and fro. His mind, now managing to gain some semblance of awareness and focus, began to exert an unusual amount of rigidity, keeping him moving onward, no longer thinking of things such as the time passing, night and day coming and going, fog settling in and clearing.

Before long, his body felt unnaturally languid, his strength beginning to fade while his mind started to feel foggy, as if the mist surrounding him had started condensing in his head. A numbness began to settle in as time passed. While this may usually be quite the problem, the man held his concentration and used the lack of sensation to keep going and ignore the languid feeling in his bones. At some point, he found himself crawling on his hands and knees, using the trees he passed as support.

Eventually, his hand reached out for a support, only to grasp at air. Dragging himself up, he got up to his feet, his hands on his knees to support himself as he looked around. In front of him was a lone tree. It was reminiscent of a Sakura Tree, a piece of information in his mind. But the only difference was that aside from being larger than most, its petals were an iridescent blue, almost appearing as if they were letting out a pale light on the dark night, as if they were the moon itself. With a flash, a spark in his mind went off as the separation from the forest brought a bit of peace to his troubled mind.

He awoke. Alone, in a dark forest, with no sounds, laying on the ground, nestled between thick roots of a Sakura Tree. Except that tree had velvet red petals. Walking up to the one in front of him now, he placed his palm on it, supporting himself as he closed his eyes, trying to remember what he was doing before ending up in this place.

He vaguely remembered sitting on the edge of a tall rooftop, the cool wind on his face and running through his hair, causing a refreshing feeling on his tired mind. And then his drowsiness took over, closing his eyes as he slouched sideways. Then the next thing he knew, he had awoken here.

Opening his eyes, the man looked up at the trees branches. At this moment, a few of the petals fell down, swirling around as if caught in the wind, landing on his now outstretched palm. Despite the numbness, he could feel the petals in his hand. Three of them. Gently wrapping his fingers around them, he held them to his chest for a second before placing them inside a zip chest pocket on his vest. It was time to move on. His mind was already beginning to shut down, overtaken by exhaustion, overwhelmed by the circumstances.

Trudging onward past the tree, the man took a glance around the lone hilltop, seeing the forest on the descent, and noticing that there was indeed an end to this mirage-like maze of vegetation. Walking in the direction of the forest edge, his footsteps had become noticeably weaker, landing heavily and taking more time to move the next one. When was the last time he had walked so much? When was the last time he was surrounded by nature like this? With questions spinning around in his head, followed by unending thoughts, ideas, memories, and knowledge, he came to a halt after who knows how long.

How long had he spent walking? It felt like days, maybe weeks, and yet the transition between day and night occurred less than that, as if time was stretched and distorted, not connecting. And all of that had led him here, standing at the top of a cliff that dropped down to a dark abyss, swallowing all light with an even thicker fog than he had marched through previously. And yet, when he compared the sight below to that of the eerie forest behind him, the choice wasn’t too hard to make in what he wanted. His mind was already at its limit.

His mind had been at its limit for a long time.

Sitting down on the edge off the cliff, he looked down at the darkness below, wisps of white fog rising up now and then. As his eyes began to close, the scene in front of him aligned with that which he saw before arriving in this strange place. Almost as if walking in a dream. Then what better way to wake up from a dream, than to meet the same conclusion? Thinking this, he let his eyelids close finally as his body tilted forward, his feet lightly kicking off the cliff face, sending him falling headfirst towards the abyss.

Feeling the air pressure around him, it almost felt like the embrace of nature as he felt the touch on his skin. Without feeling a thing, a sudden sensation of having come to a halt assailed him, no doubt having created a loud thud which was somehow inaudible to him. Managing to open his eyes just the slightest, he saw the leaves of green trees, different from the forest before, and a large cliff looming over him. With this sight, he gave a small exhale as his mind went to sleep.

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The sound of heavy ironclad boots stepping on sticks, stones and dirt could be heard over an over as four people dressed in half plate armor - presumably soldiers judging by the uniformity of their armor - came to a halt several meters away from what looked like a rockslide. While talking with each other, they began to advance, weapons drawn, looking about the fallen boulders and rocks for signs of anything amiss. Just when they were about to move on, one of them shouted out something to the others, causing them to gather around. What they found was an unconscious youth.

The youth looked to be around the age of 17 to 21 depending on their land of origin, and was covered in dust and dirt here and there, showing just how arduous a journey he had been through. Skin was a tanned brown shade, with strange hair that was black at the roots but was a golden white from halfway to the tips, with a messy wavy appearance. A lack of skin blemishes while maining a thin but toned build. But what bewildered the soldiers the most was the clothing the youth wore which was nothing they knew of. A black and grey polyester singlet under a short sleeved black-grey-white checkered button up shirt. On top of that, a type of black puffer vest underneath a white zip up hoodie. Pants were rather durable cargo pants also colored black, with a belt around the waist and a clip-on chain on both his left and right hip, attached to the belt loops. Shoes looked like a running shoes brand with a primary black and secondary blue color scheme.

Not one article of clothing was something the soldiers could recognize, and not only that, the two-tone hair with tanned skin was also unusual. When one of them opened the youth’s eyelid to confirm the eye color, once again it was something unknown. Obsidian purple, almost an iridescent purple. Taking a closer look, as if searching for signs of a curse or otherworldly power, the soldier was surprised to find it was a completely natural color. No signs of tampering in any way he knows of.

With a glance at each other, the four nodded as two of them sheathed their swords, helping to carry the youth with one under each arm. Because of the fact they were wearing armor, even if only half plate, it was still too bulky to be giving a piggyback ride to a youth who stood 6ft tall. Before long, they retreated from the area, leaving the forest and entering what looked like a ruined village after the onset of a natural disaster. After giving a quick report to soldiers in similar attire, they carried the youth to a recently rebuilt wooden house, laying him down on a straw bed in one of the rooms.

Two of them stood guard outside the room as the other half walked off to another tent, presumably to find their commanding officer. As for the youth, he showed no signs of stirring even after a few hours had passed. As the villagers went about their tasks of rebuilding, a young village girl was helping her mother with jobs around the house. In this home of theirs, the youth had been placed due to the lack of shelter among the soldiers, and was of course under guard for everyone’s safety.

The young girl, probably no more than 10, was wiping the dirt off of the youth’s skin, cleaning up bits here and there on his slightly torn clothing. Rolling up his sleeves, she found what she assumed was a bandage, but it was odd because it was all one piece, stretching from the elbow to the wrist on both arms. Out of curiosity, as she was about to shift them, she saw his body jolt as his eyes opened, staring into nothingness with a blank stare. Startled, she fell backwards, causing the bowl of water to spill on her tunic with a clatter.

Hearing the noise, one of the guards walked in. About to ask the girl what was wrong, he saw the youth with his eyes open. Calling out to the other guard, hurried steps could be heard rushing away as the soldier kept a hand on his sword, speaking softly to the girl as he stood next to the youth’s straw bed. The girl nodded and creeped away, glancing back once before running off to do other things.

After waiting a few minutes but not seeing the youth make any other movements besides vacantly staring into space, the guard spoke up to him, but got nothing in response. Before long, footsteps could be heard as two people entered, one dressed in a more battle-worn version of the armor the soldier had, and another wearing robes that one might equate to a magician’s robes. With a salute, the guard took a step back to allow them space to check on the youth.

The man in the worn armor, seemingly the commander, spoke in a commanding voice toward the youth. Finally, he reacted, slowly turning his head to face the commander, eyes still vacant of any focus. Once more, he asked the youth something, to which he only slowly tilted his head. Sighing, the commander turned to the magician looking man and showed a bit of deference to him as they talked. As they talked, the mouth of the youth opened slightly as his eyes began to focus slightly.

“... Anyone got… a drink…?” (???)

With a slightly hoarse voice, the youth spoke. Turning their heads, the duo looked startled and confused, not seeming to understand what was said. In a more calm voice, the commander once again spoke to the youth, now that he was responding.

“Iz et kornoss lo Khamus?” (Commander?)

“Huh…? Your words… are weird…” (???)

Noticing that their languages were different, the commander spoke to the magician. The youth couldn’t tell what they were talking about. In fact, he was struggling to focus his mind on the current events happening in front of him at all. While he was lost in thought, the other two seemed to have figured something out. The magician walked closer and placed something around the youth’s neck, before speaking up.

“My name is Maximillian. What is yours?” (Maximillian)

“...?!” (???)