Hi.

I'm an immortal, one who has lived many lives and shaped many others.

And no, I'm not the ones figuratively immortalized in fame, nor the ones in literary works, nor the ones of its incomplete essence.

I've been through too much.

I've seen the depths of the ocean. I’ve explored the far corners of the world. Countless languages embed the walls of my brain. An amassed array of the lives lived and memories experienced haunt my mind's ever-expanding halls. I possess memoirs of the past’s most legendary and historical figures. I've lived longer than any could live.

In truth though, I glorify myself. I'd like for all the useless clutter polluting my head to just fade away.

But they're like permanent memories, imprinted in the obscure fog I call a mind. They force me to remember what should and shouldn't be remembered, like bits of wonder hopping around in my fantasies, or evil, lurking monsters pouncing on me at every turn. After so long, these memories, both old and new, feel as if they had just happened yesterday.

I remember:

the scrumptious, exotic, and filling food riddling about the buds of my tongue,

the heavenly warmth of a fire enveloping my body against the cold winter.

the soft, wet, and luscious lips of my first love, her hair spilling through my fingers,

the influx of emotions flooding into my head at the tragedy of loss…

the putrid and lingering smell of rotting flesh seething into my nostrils…

the torture and endless pain, tearing my body apart, shattering my senses like glass…

I have a tendency to reminisce, both in horror and joy, rambling on even in my lonesome, for which I'm accustomed to.

I have always been constantly on the verge of insanity. From the moment of birth, to now, I remember all of it.

I remember everything.

I forget nothing.

Beyond it all, I had come to accept my odd existence among many others, although there were some who didn't. They who detested me, were jealous of me, rejected me, but there were also many who worshipped me, loved me, ser-

I could ramble on and on and it would never end. Insane isn’t it? I'm always in a constant state of confusion and my jumbled memories have become both the source of my sanity and insanity. But this bumbling mess will eventually come together in a story. So immerse yourself in my tale and learn who I am; my boring, dull, and haggard self.

Because I remember it all.

Yes.

Everything

It all began in Renua...

… but it continued elsewhere.

The First Chapter

725 years B.Z.

August 13th

I recall,

unable to keep track of the time as my little fragile body was put through trial after trial,

drifting amidst the ocean for time immeasurable,

there was nothing.

Unrelenting waves drowned me under their rapids, every taken breath interrupted by the salted water. It filled my nose, my lungs, and I vomited constantly. Through the torture, I couldn't help but completely cease all attempts of inhalation, and so I discovered: I hadn't the need to breathe. I was uneasy at first, but truly didn't think of it as unnatural, being able to survive without the sustenance of oxygen. I didn't realize that was a part of my abnormality, along with many others, until later. I was helpless aside from that and my immortality, my infant vessel unhelpful in my predicament. Soon I simply stopped breathing altogether and went into a sort of deep hibernation. The salty water no longer hurt me. Fishes and other strange creatures left me alone. I had no fear -- it was something incomprehensible to me. So I let the world gradually have its way with me and dozed off into another deep slumber. I was unknowing of any danger, unknowing of death itself, unknowing of anything.

August 17th

I awoke suddenly to an unbearable stench, of putrid sweat and shit, and to the echoes of a lion's distant roar. As I slowly gathered together my consciousness, I heard loud groans of men in hard labour and their rattling chains, coupled along with great, reverberating moans of a titanic beast and waves crashing against splintering wood. Rain pattered unto an the unseen roof and the familiar voice of the ocean called to me in its discord. It was no longer melodic. My eyes easily adjusted to the darkness, but were instantly blinded by thundering flashes of white light. They penetrated through numerous holes and crevices in the walls and roof. Strange, malnourished men donning rags and rowing oars were revealed under the light-show, and at the sound of thunder anew, they hastened their work with vigor. These men were all soaked from head to toe and filled over fifty rows. Even I had a sense of pity at such a young age. I myself was safely tucked away, hidden from sight, cradled inside a barrel, and peaking through a tiny hole.

The room suddenly shuddered, water poured through windows, and gravity took a turn. I braced myself as well I could, but nothing happened. As seconds passed, I began hearing muffled shouting from up above the roof, beyond the drips and drops of rain, and focused my hearing, zoning out everything else.

“Gaeon! You idiot! You led us to our deaths!” a man with a heroic and youthful voice was accusing someone.

“I'm your Captain!” another voice, gruff and unrefined, likely Gaeon.

“Captain?” The man guffawed. “You won that only in rigged contest.”

“Yes! In combat! And you think you can go against me?” Gaeon stomped his foot strongly and it echoed like thunder. “We ride out the storm!”

“We ride to our deaths, Gaeon, simple as that, and you're responsible for it." Within seconds, heavy, rapid footsteps followed. “You think you can face all of us?”

“What is this?!” fear seemed to had struck Gaeon.

“Mutiny, Captain, and whether we survive or die in this storm, you'll not be there with us.”

“Ridiculous! You think you can get away it?”

“Our great Captain,” the man mocked, “The enemy saw through our plans and he was the first to order a retreat, but before we could he was-”

“Cunning bastard!” Gaeon cursed out from his gritted teeth.

“Oh? Our great Captain was capable of compliments?” The man ended his condescending combo with a ruthless order, “Men! Throw him into the sea and hand me his sword.”

Fast footsteps followed with the sound of clashing blades and blood-curdling screams.

“I curse you all!” Gaeon howled. He bellowed an inhuman battle cry and one by one, four bodies quickly slumped unto the deck under his might. But his flurry was quickly put to the stop as a sword rendered his flesh.

“Ugh, you were always an idiot.” The man spat, and stepped back, his actions followed by a heavy and ominous thump.

“Strip him of his valuables and feed his corpse to the fish.”

There was a small splash, and silence was prompt aside from the constant groans of working men and roars of a monstrous storm.

The drama was over.

To me though, at the time, their conflict was nothing but unintelligible. I didn't understand the ordeal until a few years later.

“Terisus, what of the strange infant?” one man asked.

“Leave him be. I'll take him in as my own once we return to Latha,” the new captain replied with complacency and walked back.

As time passed, the storm dispersed, and sunlight seeped through the holes and cracks. The rowing men slowly began to finally relax, slowing down their work considerably and some even collapsing on the spot.

“Lunch time!” a man hollered from the deck. A trapdoor led from a crooked ladder was kicked open, dust was riled up, and sunlight flooded into the room, blinding everyone.

“You're all having bread, herring, and fresh, boiled water; be thankful to your new captain.” The unseen man's voice held leniency, but his contempt was obvious.

Disregarding his tone, the laborers’ eyes widened and glittered at his words, but retained their silence, in fear that their new privileges might be mercilessly revoked.

“No more scraps off the floor,” an old, thin slave murmured in a foreign language.

A tall, strong figure casually jumped down to our level, one hand holding baskets of bread, arms handling jugs of water. He towered above all others, but his exact features were indiscernible under the bright light behind him, outlining his shape.

“Herring’s already on the bread and you all need to share the water. Greedy men are thrown off our ship.” He divided the bread equally, each piece at least the luxurious size of a fist, and handed a jug to each row.

The bread looked barely edible and the herring smelled fishy from afar, but it seemed much better than what they were eating before, considering how some were just so shocked.

His footsteps stopped near me.

“Hey, ‘lil one, you awake?” I heard the man call. He was standing directly in front of the barrel I was in, blocking my vision with his tall frame.

“Hope you're not dead. The captain’ll be mad at me.”

He slowly lifted the lid of the barrel, showcasing his shadowy, ominous figure, but unexpectedly let out a loud and hearty laugh. With ease, he picked me up with his overbearing hands and eyed me closely. I didn't flinch.

“Ha! You're a quiet one. Coulda sworn you were dead.”

He turned around and walked into the light, casting away his dark shroud and displaying his proud, toothy grin in all its glory. He was an odd-looking man. I couldn't tell whether he was handsome or ugly, but he had a specific charm.

He had strong, shapely jaws, and a barrel chest. He matched his strongman character quite well.

“Why did the captain leave you down here alone? I guess I know now.”

He cradled me in his arms, albeit crudely, and carried me unto the deck. The sun beamed down upon me and its heat washed over me like a wave.

He glanced at me as I was basking in the sun's glow like it was a blanket. “Comfortable? The sun’ll wear you down though,” he remarked.

The tall man nonchalantly walked down the ship with me propped on his arm. Some soldiers gave me strange, discerning looks along the way.

“What does the captain want with you?” he asked and frowned.

His smile wavered and his footsteps slowed.

"I thought babies cried when they were hungry, that they're born from their mothers’ wombs...” The cheerfulness in his voice disappeared and his volume lowered unsteadily, “... that they're delicate little beings…"

His legs came to an awkward stop and he paused to examine me closely.

“What are you?”

“Lieutenant!” a voice called, the same one from during the storm.

The man quickly looked up and changed his demeanor, smiling lazily.

“Captain Terisus,” his voice lax, “I-”

“Just let me see the baby,” he interrupted him.

The tall man shut his mouth and at Terisius’s stern gaze, silently handed me over to him.

“Thank you, Gladus, you may return to your duties.”

The tall man, known as Gladus, formally put up his militaristic attitude and placed his fist over his heart.

“Yes, Captain.”

He walked off without delay, leaving me alone with the captain.

“Hm…” Terisius examined me.

Almost seemed like a ritual then, those ‘examinations’ people gave me.

He had nothing to say to me, unlike Gladus. Probably because he didn't see any meaning to talking to something that didn't understand him. In my head though, I preferred the tall man over Terisius. His constant prattling was somewhat comforting to me.

Gladus was blunt yet nice.

This man, Terisius, seemed much more cold and calculative. Although his voice was young, heroic, and full of unnatural charisma, it contrasted greatly from his true character. It was discomforting.

His eyes were glaringly sharp, with equally piercing blue color and the form of a gleaming blade’s edge. He could even cut or jab people with the tips of his wavy golden hair, pointy nose, long refined chin, and dagger-like… ears…

Ah yes, I remember.

He was one of those Fae.

A strange breed of men, but one that seemed closer to the Gods than simple humans.

… Peculiar enigma…

They can live for hundreds of years and possess superhuman abilities. Old legends tell of Fae who ruled over all without bloodshed for entire millenia. They are those touched by the Gods, and each one born had at least one purpose to live out, their desires, passion, and aspiration, all leading to their single, greatest point. Nothing could obstruct them because they could overcome anything. That's the way it had always been, until I came into the equation.

Terisius carried me around and continued what seemed to be usual business: shouting orders and taking constant watch over the ship.

He seemed slightly unnerved though.

It was repetitive, needless to say, but after an hour or two land was seen.

After an hour, as they were drifting in range of the docks, Terisus gathered the entire crew of twenty men and began to speak, “The slaves have all been addicted to the drugs mixed in their food and water and won't say anything about what happened here. Their brains are all mushy now."

Everyone was silent as they listened.

“Now, I'd like to remind you all that we're all in this together. All in the same boat. We have killed Gaeon and this must not be revealed. At all costs, every one of you must conceal this dastardly deed, or else we all sink together. That is all. Return to your posts."

Terisius was always a sly man, reveling in trickery and puzzles to complete his goals.

As everyone dispersed and returned to their duties, Terisius collapsed on the floor, still holding me in his arms, leaning against a barrel. He seemed stressed and exhausted. His mentality must had take a hit once he saw his homeland, and whether it was guilt or worry, he gazed at that distant land for a long while and sighed.

He then turned his attention to me and patted my head.

“You are going to fulfill the prophecy, my friend,” he said and smiled.

He looked away, gazed up into the sky as if he were deep in thought, and softly chuckled.

“Fulfilling the prophecy,” he murmured.

Only a second had passed and his chuckles grew in volume. In lively fashion, he began laughing without restraint.

“The prophecy!”

He cackled joyously.