Nameless

There were only two opponents left facing me.

All of the others had either fled or they were lying on the forest floor. The two men still facing me had lost the predatory gleam in their eyes, just as the wolves had. It is amazing how similar this encounter was to the one I had a month ago. They again said something incomprehensible in their language to me. I, however, got the message they were attempting to convey: "What are you?" I only smiled and changed into a more defensive stance.

The man to my left made an obvious feint towards my lower body as I saw his partner on my right ready himself for a two-handed swing. I decided to play along with the feint, and blocked the weak stab aimed at my thigh. I could not see the man swing his blade because of my impairment, but I could hear the tip whistle through the air as it sought my flesh. Now was time for a risk. Right when I knew the blade was about to bite into my neck, I swiftly ducked down avoiding the attack. I also pushed my sword against the blade as it flew above my head, sending the man's sword into the skull of his ally.

As the man's sword was lodged in his friend's skull, I plunged my blade deep into his abdomen and let them both fall. That was when I noticed that I was being watched. The old man, and the two bald men were staring at me through a mask of fear and awe. The ground around me was littered with dead or soon-to-die bodies. I felt nothing when I killed the men, just as if they were animals. This gave me the uneasy feeling that I have killed before.

I waved at the old man and smiled. This seemed to get a positive reaction because one of the bald men started laughing uncontrollably. The old man then said something to me in their language. I recognized the first word as a greeting, but I did not understand anything after. I cocked my head to the side in confusion. This made the laughing bald man hysterical until he was cuffed by his brother.

I heard a voice from behind me which I immediately recognized as the young boy's. I turned to see the lad standing on a ridge overlooking the gruesome scene. He had an arrow pulled back to his cheek and was pointing it in my direction. From seeing the boy shoot, I did not want to be on the business end of his flatbow. The old man yelled something at the boy and the boy lost focus.

The boy's grip slipped and I could see the arrow hurtling towards me. It was almost as if it was moving in slow-motion. The boy let out a shout of surprise, as if just realizing what he had done. As the arrow was flying towards my face, I easily reached out and plucked it out of the air. It was a well made arrow, with a diamond shaped tip. This would be capable of punching through tough leather armor.

The three adults were staring at me agape. Perhaps I had done something wrong. I turned back to the boy and offered him his arrow back. He hesitantly walked down to where I stood and accepted his arrow. He looked to be ashamed of his mistake, so I was satisfied. The adults were talking among themselves, so I loudly cleared my throat. I gestured to my pale, naked body and then pointed towards the boy's clothes. They seemed to understand what I was asking.

After listening for several minutes to the people talk amongst themselves, they motioned for me to follow them.

I followed the group as they led me out of the woods and back onto the 'road'. The boy was up next to his father, and was being scolded rather fiercely. I was following the group from several meters behind. We made it to the road and I saw the mother hop off the 'wagon' and rush to her son to embrace him. That was when her eyes drank in my presence. Instead of recoiling in shock, the handsome woman looked at me with a mix of sympathy and remorse.

I was herded over to the nearest wagon and the woman gave me a set of garments which looked to belong to the boy. How was someone supposed to wear these? After an uncomfortable silence, consisting of the five people watching me study the clothing in my hands, a loud squeak came from behind the wagon. The little girl came out from behind the wagon and was staring at my manhood with fascination and reddening cheeks. Following the girl, was the muscular woman with short hair, who was also staring at my body with amused interest. They must have been wondering how I had so many scars.

I did not know either.

Dag

"For God's sake, give the boy some privacy!", My father shouted at all of us.

Everyone shuffled away to let him change. The stranger was just so fascinating to look at, though I suspect that Helga and Sylvia were interested in looking at different parts than me. The person's body was layered with scar tissue. For all we know, he might have originally had darker skin. When I first saw his face, I realized that he was not smiling, but had a huge gouge taken out of the right side of his face. His remaining eye also made me uneasy when it looked at me, as if it pierced into my soul. His hair, which was originally stark white, now had streaks of blood staining it. There was a small tuft of white hair at his chin too. His body was thin, yet he was quite muscular. However, for someone who looked like they lived in the wilderness, he was surprisingly clean.

Sylvia whispered to me wide-eyed, "Tha's the ghost that saved me in the forest...He kilt that dog by jumpin' on it"

That explained how Sylvia survived a wolf attack. After seeing the boy fight, I knew that he was formidable in combat. While thinking about why he would rescue Sylvia, I realized this boy has been following us at least since Sylvia went wandering off. Why would this person follow us? Perhaps he was an escaped slave. Slavery was frowned upon, but was not illegal in The Empire, and the stranger certainly had enough scars. However, slaves were marked with nose-rings, and this boy had no ring.

I heard the three siblings talking while we were waiting for him to finish changing.

"Helga, you should've seen him fight. He was ruthless, it was like he was half-demon," Dav said seriously. To this Helga replied, "Ha! By the way he's hung, I would say he's ha'f-horse!" All three burst out laughing at the remark. I shook my head at the childish remark. Well, his was substantially bigger than mine, but I would grow.

After the stranger was done changing into my clothes, father said that we need to get a move on. It would be a bad idea to camp next to dead bodies. The stranger was idly picking dried blood out of his hair as he studied the woolen tunic and trousers he was wearing. Before I could stop her, Sylvia ran over to him and offered him one the loops she uses to tie her hair back.

She said loudly, "Here Sir Ghost!" and held out the loop of string. The stranger smiled warmly, yet hauntingly because of his half-face, as he took the loop from my sister's hands. Unfortunately, he had no clue what to do with it. Sylvia pointed towards the one she was wearing on her flaming red hair while giggling. He seemed to understand what she wanted, and then gathered his hair at the back of his head. With the help of my sister, he was able to get his hair into a somewhat neat ponytail. I am sure that most girls her age would be terrified by his scarred wreck of a face, but Sylvia seemed very intrigued by the stranger.

Suddenly, the stranger cleared his throat and spoke with a raspy, yet friendly voice, "Me...Go...You" as he pointed at my father. He seemed proud of his sentence. Father replied with a simple "Yes." That settled the matter. We were going to take him to the next town anyways. Leaving someone alone and in the wilderness would essentially be killing them, but by the looks of it, this boy had been living in the wilderness for a while.

The caravan began moving again and we walked for several more kilometers until the sun had turned into a deep crimson. Father picked out a low hill for us to camp on. From where we were camping, we could see several farms in the distance and beyond that, the dancing lights of Mayfield. We must have only been a day's travel away. Soon everyone was sitting around the cooking fire, eating a stew of salted pork and herbs and telling stories. We all watched the stranger stare into the fire with his one good eye as he ate our food in silence.

The eye and hair of our new companion reflected the all-consuming flames in a haunting orange hue.

Nameless

I was still staring at the crackling embers when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I looked up and saw concern reflected in the eyes of the old man as he checked on me. I gave him a smile and presented him with my empty bowl with a satisfied grunt. I was still trying to piece together the language they spoke. Throughout the meal we shared, I could sense a certain unease to the air. A laugh which seemed too forced, a glance from the corner of the eye. These people must have been afraid of me or they could not figure me out. Either way, I would never be able to learn of this land until I learn their language. Then I can begin to try and answer my questions.

The old man handed me a spare bedroll and a soft cloak and nodded before he returned to his family.

I took the gifts and replied, "Thank you" feeling the sensation of the alien words roll off my tongue.

The man was startled at my response before he said, "Ah, so @%$#& speak! Well @%#$ let me thank you for #^@$^$#% the forest... However, before we @%#$^@ friendly...Who are you, @#% , and why are you %@$# ?"

I was surprised that I somewhat understood the man, and I replied, "I don't..Know...Me...Name...I don't know...why..."

The man, who was astonished at my response, was about to say something.

However, I quickly interjected, "I sleep" while preparing my bedroll.

I did not want to have a conversation in the dark where it was hard to read someones face. This made it very difficult to try and converse in some language I just discovered several weeks ago. I flopped my clothed body on top of the thick, woolen bedroll. The dreams immediately hit me in a torrent of images and sounds. It was impossible to make sense of them, and always...always they quickly faded after I awoke, slipping through my grasp like quicksilver.

The young boy was nudging me awake as I came back to reality, blinking groggily. I stood and stretched as I surveyed my surroundings, which I made a habit of. The sun was in the process of peaking over the hilly horizon, sending streaks of crimson and

The boy said to me inquiringly, "Hey, we are %$#% to ^$#%@$ to the @%$# town, it's $%#% Mayfield...Is it true you don't even know &^%#@ name?"

I was beginning to enjoy these challenges of comprehending this new language.

I stood up straight and replied, "Yes... I want... To know...Name..."

The boy looked shocked by my response. As he was struggling to think up a reply, I heard a conversation coming from where the boy's parents were standing.

Voice 1(Feminine):"You can't just let this boy @%$#@ we @%$#@ Mayfield. He can barely speak our @^%[email protected]#@ and has no money. You will @#[email protected] him.

Voice 2(Masculine):"Carla, the boy is dangerous. He @$%#@ with six men like they were children. He attracts the kind of @%$#@@# we don't need, @%$#@ when moving to a new %[email protected]##. These %[email protected]#@ are tight-knit communities."

Voice 1(Feminine):"I won't stand for it. We have to @%$#@%# safe for him. How could you even @^%# of #^%[email protected]# a boy that is your son's %$#?"

I decided to ignore the debate between the two adults. As if I would let them decide my fate...

We began our trek after a short meal of oats mixed with cold water. I was excited about a day of talking with these strange people. More likely, however, was that their customs and mannerisms were commonplace in this land. They likely thought that my existence was very strange. Thinking about my situation only brought more questions. Best to not think about the thousands of questions which were already festering at the back of my mind.

From the conversation I overheard, I could tell that the old man was a very protective person and that he was suspicious of me. As thoughts were tumbling through my head, we passed the first dwelling I had seen. It was a cabin made out of stout oak timbers and appeared very sturdy. Around two kilometers up the road lay a large group of dwellings, hundreds from what I could tell, surrounded by a wall. I assumed there must have been a vast community of people who lived there. It became apparent to me that the community up ahead was the destination of my companions.

Soon, we arrived at a tall fence constructed out of both stone conglomerate and timber, around 5 meters high. An armed man stepped out from behind the gates and walked towards the group. I checked the faces of my companions, however, they seemed at ease so I relaxed as well. I was able to hear the roar of human voices from beyond the gate. We entered the walled community saw a street filled with people, wagons, and horses. Past all the people there lay a small circle of green, followed by a large stone mansion at the center of the community. There were around one hundred humans in the same place at once. The old man was talking with the armed guard at the gate. The guard pointed towards the large mansion, and his eyes widened when the old man flipped a shiny hunk of metal into his fumbling hands.

Everything around me, the buzzing of hundreds of voices seemed familiar and comfortable to me, quite contrary to what someone would think of someone who had never seen a large community of people like this.

Sudden images assailed me from all directions. A black haired child with only thin rags as clothing, curled on the ground in pain. Dozens of children running and leaping across rooftops at night. Slick cobblestones covered with teeth and blood.

Just as quickly as they began, the images stopped. I looked around for my companions, but they were nowhere to be found. As I looked around me, I found that I was in the middle of a busy street. Someone jostled me from behind as they brushed past. People were giving me strange looks as I stood immobile in the center of the street. I knew better than to attract unwanted attention so I moved to the side of the road and pulled the hood of my cloak over my hair. I had an inkling of where my companions had, gone because I remembered the guard gesture towards the stone mansion.

The only problem was that I had no clue where I was in the town or where the mansion was. I moved down into a shadowed alley, away from the strange looks. I peered up at the sky through the narrow slit between the rooftops. The sky was turning dark.

How long had it been?

Once it got dark, it would be much more difficult to find where my companions had gone. They were the only people who I had any connection to in this strange land. That thought made me feel suddenly very alone as I watched the sky turn a deep indigo.

As I was wallowing in my own self-pity, I heard a sound which snapped me out of my despair. A chorus of voices was laughing and singing along to someone playing a string instrument of some kind. The one language which I knew I could understand was music.

I quickly moved to find the source of the pleasing melody.