Intense pain filled his head. He tasted iron in his mouth. He peered around attempting to get his bearings.
There was a group of three above him. One was sprinting at him with a knife raised above his head. What the-he thrust downwards. The trajectory of the blade would soon intersect with Silvan's chest. Silvan quickly seized the man's wrist. Just what is going on? Why are they trying to kill me?
Silvan had narrowly managed to stop the blade from stabbing him. Breathing heavily, with his hands secured around the other man's hands, Silvan struggled to try to move the knife to somewhere where it wouldn't stab him.
A bright light suddenly flashed without warning, then Silvan heard a thump, and the man above him was removed, not to mention the knife. The man when hit with the light writhed in pain and flew off of Silvan. Silvan stood still, stunned at the new situation.
A gray-haired girl jumped from the grass and pulled Silvan up as a white-haired boy knocked a sword out of one of the boy's hands and pointed the sword at the other's throat.
Words came out of White Hair's mouth, but it was hard to understand him."Sorry, we used you as a decoy. These guys were following us so we had to act fast," White hair said apologetically. "We would have used another way, but I'm more worried about the one who attacked you. Iva blasted him with magic; seems she's strong."
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Iva looked worriedly down at the man she hit with her magic. "I tried not to hurt him this badly. It seems I still can't control it." She held out her hand and white light sprouted from her fingers.
The boy with the sword at his throat brow twitched with anger but eyed the sword tentatively. "Leave us, we'll let you take your friend here too. Don't attack us or I'll have to fight back seriously," White hair said gently.
The two boys nodded vigilantly and dragged the groaning man's body away, eyeing Iva cautiously.
Silvan, at last, recovered from the initial shock, questioned White Hair with his eyes. "I am Cyrrin. Cyrrin Drukel. You probably have many questions, but now is not the best time. Other teams will be coming here," Cyrrin sympathetically told Silvan while intently watching the other side of the clearing.
"Tis of nay matter, but I expecteth all mine own questions to best answered in the endeth. By the way, where am I, and wherefore am I here?" Silvan responded nonchalantly.
Silvan could barely make out their dialect, but he could make out the general structure of what they're trying to say.
Seemingly judging it safe enough to look at Silvan, Cyrrin gazed at him with deep sorrow, "You and I both are part of a group termed the "Forgotten." We have forgotten everything besides how to speak, muscle memory, and random tidbits of the information left in our brains. Nobody knows why we have forgotten everything," answered Cyrrin. "The rest will have to be saved for later." Cyrrin looked back at Iva, "Are we ready?"
"Yes," she replied. " It's regretful that we can't explain the rest, but we must hurry now." Iva led the way out of the clearing and through the brush in the opposite direction where the men went through.
Silvan asked, " Anon, where were thee two heading?"
Iva answered back with a frown on her face, "North."