Explanation of the world and it's inhabitants

Legend of The Husks'

Husks' are a very contentious topic of research. Old records indicate that they were once a significant threat in the wildlands, dreaded by many for their excisive physical strength and natural fear-inducing effects. Still, there has not been a confirmed spotting of a husk in nearly five generations. Some scholars doubt if such a creature existed, while others treat the old tales as truth.

The best available description of a husk comes from this old story told to children.

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Never wander to woods alone at night, for you might come across a husk. With its gangly body wrapped in rotten cloth, it could easily tear you apart. Its screech, crafted from the final breath of all it's past victims, will leave you reeling in terror, unable to think. Its flat face only serves to trick the eye into thinking the figure in the dark is a person.

If you find yourself faced with a husk, then do not even dare a blink, lest it vanishes into the shadows around you. A husk is remorseless and aggressive, and it will never miss the opportunity to torment those who wander into their territory. They will harras you for hours before finally ripping your life from your body.

Gods' save the man who manages to kill a husk, for his days are numbered, and he will live no more than six years after his conquest.

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We don't know how much of this story is true or even if the creature in the tale is the same one mentioned in other records, but we can only speculate as to the origins of the species. An analysis of the husks' records indicates that they stood at the top of the food chain, and nothing equaled them in physical might. This makes us wonder what happened to the species to make it disappear from the world so cleanly.

Hal was floored, not only had the attempted communication failed at the first step, but he didn't even recognize the harsh sounds coming from the feral Hal as any of the languages taught to him. Directing his attention outwards once more, Hal spoke to The Old Man. "I can't tell what language he's speaking. How can he know a language I don't? How am I even supposed to speak with him if we can't understand each other?"

Hals swift barrage of words did not visibly faze The Old Man, his eyes showing little emotion to the sudden outburst. Seeing Hal had little more to say, The Old Man spoke his thoughts. "While I had hoped that we could begin talking with the other you today, I did plan for the possibility that he would not have the ability to speak." The Old Man turned towards the house while giving one final set of instructions to Hal. "Cycle memories through your mental space. Focus on memories of language for now. You will find a diagram on your bed tonight that will help you redraw this formation yourself. Practice entering your mental scape every day from now on. When you have successfully achieved a form of communication with the other you, come to me for more advice." with the ending of his instructions, The Old Man disappeared inside, leaving Hal to practice alone in the yard until other lessons began.

Turning his thoughts, inward, Hal began pulling from the spiral of memories above him. Hal did not know precisely what the memories were while grabbing them, only receiving a vague indication of the contents unless he focused on a particular strand amongst the spiral. Hal redirected them down through the center before returning it to the spiral whenever he found one that seemed to focus on the acquisition of knowledge. Every time he did this, Hal experienced a small burst of recollection. The feeling of the desk under his quill during a lesson, the smell of dust on the books in the library, and many other small bits of memory floated through his mind with each strand he grasped.

The feral Hal seemed to freeze for long periods whenever a new memory entered into the mental space—seemingly more taken by the feeling of recollection Hal experienced.

Each time Hal pulled on a memory, the image of them become more explicit, more distinct. The image contained inside revealing more information about the memory. Every thread was becoming more transparent in its contents before Hal even chose to drag them to the center.

Before long, the Feral Hal laid down and directed his vision up to the spiral of memories above, taken by the bizarre tranquility found amongst the spinning formation. His eyes wandered between the threads above them as if analyzing them.

Hal would have continued like this all day if he could, but the church bell in the distance indicated that it was time to head inside for lessons. Getting up from his spot Hal took a short moment to look at the formation in the sand before heading inside.

Hal made his way to the room he shared with some of the other children. The lessons for the day primarily consisted of math and history. But the latter half of the day had been focused on the practical application of magic. The lessons, combined with the events of the morning, had left Hal mentally exhausted.

While getting ready to sleep, Hal took note of the parchment piece on his bed that appeared to be a drawing of the same formation he had sat in earlier that morning. Hal would have loved to look over the diagram in detail, but his mind had little energy to use on such a task, so instead, Hal simply laid the parchment to the side and climbed into bed.

The next couple of months proceeded with little incident. Hal would wake up in the morning before the sun had fully risen and head out to the yard. After drawing the formation in the sand, Hal would enter his mindscape and pull memories from the spiral. Occasionally he would add some additional slack to the chains of the feral Hal; this seemed to please the green-skinned boy more than most actions Hal took. On other days, Hal would talk with the feral Hal only to receive another set of unintelligible words.

Week after week, month after month, Hal slowly became better at drawing the formation, and as the months turned into two years, Hal learned to enter the spiral without the need for the formation. The new skill allowed him to practice in his inner space much more often than he had in the months prior, leading to what Hal hoped was the first signs of progress.

One day while in the spiral of thought, Hals saw the green-skinned boy move his fingers along the ground in a pattern of sorts as if trying to write out a word. Hal did not approach the other him on that day, fearing that if he got too close, the other boy would become fearful and stop his practice. The next day when Hal entered his mental plane, he found a familiar sight scrawled into the ground.

The same formation he had once sat in to build this space covered the ground that the feral Hal had acces to, and at its center sat the green-skinned boy.

Hal barely had a chance to take in what he saw before his mind was assaulted with memories that were not entirely his own. Memories of sitting in the dark space, watching the small clouded window. Visions of a language he didn't yet know flared through each one, burning themselves into Hal's mind.

Hal tried to yell for help, he attempted to leave his mental plain, he tried to do anything to stop the flood of images and thoughts that were not his own, but nothing worked. Hal began losing himself to the images, only able to think of the words that flowed across his mind like liquid fire. Each new word came with a memory of desperation. A small child, freezing in the cold wooden room, walling in hopes of some form of heat. The same child, losing its voice from a lack of sustenance, unable to cry out for help. The child's skin turning green like Hal's had so many times before. The green child, scouring the room, looking for any form of food to save its life. Incomplete and disjointed, they each failed to tell the full story.

"A tagaal o." "I saved you" "Ac o kaaraalaal ghaan." "And you rejected me."

Hal understood the words, and he knew the boy in the vision to be himself. The combined might of the images digging up a memory Hal had wanted to forget.

Hal lay on the floor in the corner of the room. The energy from within his bones, having long run out. In the opposite corner of the room lay a woman's body, horrendously rotten and deformed. He saw the red-stained blade in her hand, and a horrible gash across her stomach. Hal could hear voices at the door, the banging the pounding. The desperate cry of a man coming from the other side. "Jeena, are you in there?" The door cracked with each bang until it finally gave to the force of the man's blows.

The man did not see Hal. His eyes falling on the corpse in the corner, the man began to weep.

Hal found his voice amongst the burning memories. Choosing to speak in the language he now knew all too well, he said his part. "A drel khruur rhaakhuul o. A tagaal an." "I did not betray you. I saved us." With his words, he pulled the rest of the memory into the mindscape.

The small Hal did not have the strength to move any longer, he had not been able to open the door, and he had long eaten what food remained in the room. His instincts had told him time and again that the woman's corpse was not something he should eat, so Hal had it considered it as a source of sustenance even before it had rotted. Now he lay in the dark, watching the man weep over the woman's corpse. His instincts were screaming to stay silent and evade the predator across the room, but a part of him knew this was his last chance.

His instincts fought him, forcing him to remain silent, but Hal struggled nonetheless. Hal fought and resisted his instinct to stay quiet, restraining it and binding it, until finally, he found himself entirely in control.

Hal cried, he cried like every other child; he cried loud enough to drown out the man's weeping. He cried so loud just to let the world know that a child was hungry, and It worked. The man found him in the corner. He had taken Hal to The Old Man, who raised him like many other children without parents. Hal had managed to survive.

As the memory faded, so did the burning series of images forced upon him by his other-self.

"I never knew what happened after you chained me." Said the green-skinned boy in clear English.

"You gave me the strength to survive in that room, but if you had kept us silent, we would have died," Hal said solemnly. "Now, will you work with me once again, so we can be better than we are now?" Said Hal extending his hand out to his other-self.

"Yes, I will," Said the green-skinned boy, taking Hal's extended hand.