I opened my eyes to the man in orange.

We were in a small grove no wider than a cottage, rough rock walls spiralling skywards on all but one side, ringing us in. The ground dipped into a shallow pool on the remainder, bubbling current indicating it came with an exit somewhere, before truncating in more high rock. A gentle waterfall plunged over the top of it, more trickle than deluge, filling the space with the babble of water.

I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten in here.

The man in orange stood out like an uncomfortable blister, somehow unnatural-looking despite his form of flesh and blood. It was probably the clothes. Bright, shiny, artificial. They suited him. I tried to place the style, but came up with nothing familiar.

Something about that made me glance down at my own hands, twitching them up in afterthought. Smooth dark skin looked back at me. It didn’t look familiar either. That seemed wrong.

The orange man’s arms were much lighter, except for where they were bleeding. Only now did I notice how much of it there was, and how the way he crumpled over looked painful – seriously so – and how odd it was I didn’t have context for any of this, which felt like a fairly critical omission.

“How –" I began, and broke off immediately. My voice wasn’t familiar, either. That seemed wrong. What seemed worse was the fact I wasn’t sure how it was supposed to sound. I was a woman, though. Probably. Possibly a high-voiced man. I felt like this was something I should have already known.

No, I was definitely a woman. Probably.

The man in orange saved me from having to continue. “Lady Black,” he spoke. Blood pooled in the crevices between his gums, a drop or two escaping with the motion. “Welcome back.”

I hesitated a moment before glancing over my shoulder to be certain. Only overgrown cliffs there. He was speaking to me.

Well, at least I had a name.

“I won’t have time to answer all your questions, I’m afraid,” he groaned. His voice was strained. More blood joined the dots on his lips, trickled into his neatly-trimmed beard. “So we’ll skip to the essentials. You’re an Ancient, like me.”

The words barely registered. He needed a doctor. Fast. I thought so, anyway. My head seemed to contain some small measure of medical knowledge, even if I wasn’t sure where it came from. I was fairly sure the bubbling was a bad sign, and the blood was seeping from more places than his mouth. A red tear pathed its way down one cheek, and another from the same ear. I couldn’t see any open wounds to dress, even if I had the supplies.

Did I have the supplies? No. My hands were free, and all I seemed to have with me was my clothes.

I made my way, somewhat helplessly, over to him and knelt by his side. “What do I need to do to fix you?” I managed to get the whole sentence out this time, the voice still alien in my ears. Rich and low.

The man’s eyes lifted towards me. “Nothing. There’s no helping me. All you can do is listen. Which you must do, because your life depends on it.”

I started, at that, feeling my neck twist on reflex as I spun to check the surroundings. All that met me was the peaceful rush of water.

The man chuckled. It turned into a brief cough, and he stopped again. “I bought you some time. It was close. They almost had you. But I won. I won.”

“Someone tried to kill me?”

“Kill you, no. Train and convert you, yes. Indoctrinate and enslave. You would have become a puppet in another’s schemes. Not pleasant ones. I promised I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We never do.” He coughed again, harsher than before. The hands holding himself up clenched against the wet grass, only to find weak purchase. “You’re an Ancient,” he said again. “Ageless, immortal. Reborn on death, the slate wiped clean. Doomed to repeat the endless cycle of loss and rebirth, and for what? No one knows.” He paused, seeming to realise his words weren’t making much of an impact. “There are ten of us,” he explained more simply. “Your name is Black. I am Orange. There are… others. They’ll come for you. Some will hurt you. Some will cajole you with pretty words. But your only real hope is to hide. Let no one discover who you are, and lie low until you’re strong enough to hold your own. It will happen, provided you’re careful.”

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“Orange,” I tried, noting the name felt right on my lips. It was an odd name, surely chosen to match his outfit or vice-versa. “I’m confused.”

“I know. This is how it begins. You’ll never get those memories back, though others will remember your old selves. But don’t go looking. Not until you’re strong enough. Promise me.” Before I could react, one hand shot up from the grass and grasped my arm with a strength I wouldn’t have picked from his weakened movements.

I jumped back, but the arm was stronger.

“Promise me!”

“I promise!” I stammered out, shocked into compliance. A moment later a larger shock wracked my body and doubled me over, as something invisible left my body and invasively re-entered it, spreading throughout each nerve like a metal clamp waiting to be tightened. I could feel it hovering somewhere beyond, just out of sight, with a sense I didn’t understand.

“Your first lesson,” Orange said. His hand had fallen back to the ground, the elbow attached to it buckled and leaning. The motion had taken it out of him. “And a hard one. But better learning from me than another. No promises, no matter how innocuous they seem. We’re powerful, but vulnerable. A promise will bind you until resolution or death. Remember that. Those who hunt you are clever and may come to you in disguise. In fact, they probably will. So bow to no one, even when you feel safe. Do that, and you might remain free.”

I recalled his earlier words. “You said you promised not to let me become a puppet.”

“You made me do it.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to think of that. Of any of it. None of it felt like it had anything to do with me, and if I couldn’t feel the vise hanging over my head even now, I wasn’t sure I’d have believed it. “I didn’t mean to?”

“Oh, yes you did. You were a bastard in that life, too. Two cycles ago, now. I kept you free, but it didn’t stop you from getting yourself killed.”

I opened my mouth to ask how I’d been killed, and found the words wouldn’t come. The vise above my head drew closer, catching them in my throat.

Orange saw it and made an inscrutable noise. “See. You can’t break it. Or outwit it. Try, and reality will bend to make it happen. But I can guess what you wanted to ask.” The buckled arm finally gave way, and he hit the grass with a muffled thud and accompanying whimper.

I didn’t know how to help.

“The first time, my assistance came under duress. The second – this time – I offered it willingly. Your last cycle was an improvement on its predecessor. I have high hopes for this one. In any case, my time is coming to a rapid end, and we die more or less together. I only ask that you find me in the next cycle and return the favour.”

Watching a stranger die in front of me, there on his back on the soft grass – a man who’d apparently given his life to help mine – I very nearly said yes. Until I remembered the lesson.

I didn’t know what to say, and held my tongue.

“Good,” murmured Orange. “You’ve learnt something. You may have a chance.” He closed his eyes.

I tried to find words to fill the silence. “If I wanted to find you,” I began carefully, “how would I do that?”

The voice that returned to me sounded distant and tired. “With difficulty.” Blood bubbled up from his lips, and he turned his head to one side, letting it drip out. “The point of entry is random. Or seems to be. I’ll vanish from here. I won’t look the same. I won’t remember, and chances are one or more of the others will divine my location. They’re probably already waiting. If we’re lucky, they’ll kill each other fighting over my claim.”

I suddenly remembered he’d fought against someone here for much the same reason. “Did you kill someone here?”

“Green. One less monster terrorising the world. Not that it makes a difference in the long run. Maybe the next terror will be me. Maybe it will be you.” He opened his eyes with what seemed like great effort. “Try not to let it be you.”

“I don’t plan on becoming a monster,” I agreed, after almost making another accidental promise.

He nodded, as if expecting nothing less. “It means the new Green will be out there too. So many of us dying at once, and there might be more by the time we’re done. This is unusual.” I watched as his eyes fluttered closed again, his voice almost a whisper. “But it changes nothing. Lie low, stay… unnoticed. You have time.”

I waited, but he stayed silent for so long I might have taken him for dead if not for the shallow breaths making bellows of his chest.

“And what then?” I wasn’t sure what I was asking, except perhaps hoping the act of talking might help keep him alive.

It took a while for him to respond. When he did, I had to bend in to hear it.

“Try to leave the world a better place than when you entered it,” Orange whispered. “You told me that once. It occurs to me –”

He didn’t finish the sentence, instead choking so violently his blood sprayed on my face. Orange’s back arched, bending like it would snap, and he screamed –

And was gone.