Chapter: Fragmented Flashbacks (Part 1)
The village hummed with the familiar sounds of life—the rhythmic clang of metal in the forge, the rustle of the wind through the dark oaks, and the distant bleating of goats wandering the rocky terrain. My father stood beside the anvil, wiping his brow with a soot-covered hand. He beckoned me over, a rare smile tugging at his lips.
“This,” he said, hefting the long spear, “isn’t just about strength, Zorath. It’s about control. “He handed me the spear, its shaft sturdy and cool against my palms. The iron tip gleamed in the fading light of the forge. I tried to mimic his grip, but he shook his head, stepping behind me. “No, like this.” His calloused hands guided mine, adjusting my stance. “Always hold firm, but never too tight. A spear is about precision, not brute force. You need to feel the weight in your hands, trust it. Now... thrust.” I jabbed forward, but my form was clumsy. He chuckled, correcting my grip again. “Keep practicing. You’ll get it. One day, this will feel as natural as breathing. “I nodded, determined. The weight of the spear felt reassuring, but it also carried something heavier—his expectations. I didn’t want to disappoint him. “You’re strong, son,” he said, his voice softer now. “But never forget, a real warrior protects. You’ll need that strength for more than yourself one day.”
The sound of hammers clangs as the scenery of anvils fades.
Inside our small home, the scent of leather and pine needles mingled in the air. My mother sat by the fire, stitching the final pieces of Armor together. She glanced up as my brother and I came in from the forge, her fingers deftly working the thread through the sturdy hide. “Come here, both of you,” she said, gesturing to the newly crafted Kubrow Leather Armor. “You’ll wear this when you go out. I don’t want either of you running off without it.” I smiled as she handed the pieces to us. My brother Zaryn struggled with his, the leather was a bit too large for his small frame, but still, he grinned up at her nonetheless. “Thanks, Ma!” Zaryn said, fastening the straps as best he could. “When I grow up, I’m going to be the leader of this village, and everyone’s going to listen to me. ”I couldn’t help but laugh. “You? The leader? You can’t even fasten your armour right!”He glared at me, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his facade. “You’ll see! I’ll be the best leader ever, better than the elders. I’ll make sure everyone is safe. “I ruffled his hair, smirking. “Well, if you’re the leader, then I guess I’ll have to be your bodyguard. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t trip over your own feet.” He punched my arm playfully, and we both laughed. My mother watched us with a soft smile, shaking her head as she returned to her work. “Just make sure to come back in one piece, both of you,” she said, though her voice had an edge of worry.
The faint sound of leather armor being fastened triggers as the memory is concealed within leather.
The air was cool under the shade of the dark oaks as we made our way toward the creek, the leather armour snug against my chest. Zaryn chattered endlessly beside me, poking at the underbrush with his small spear, as if expecting a monster to leap out at any moment. I smiled, adjusting the strap on my shoulder. “You know, if you talk any louder, you’ll scare off all the fish. “He shot me a look, feigning offense. “I’m practicing being the leader. Leaders talk a lot. ”Leaders also listen a lot, you know,” I said, grinning. “But don’t worry, you’ve got plenty of time to figure that out. “As we neared the creek, I noticed a cluster of wild berries near the edge of the forest. “Wait here,” I told Zaryn, motioning to the bushes. “I’ll grab us something to snack on before we start. “He nodded, kicking at a stone as I wandered over to the thick bush, the dark purple berries glistening in the shade. I knelt down, reaching to pluck a handful, when—The scream. It cut through the peaceful silence, sharp and panicked, freezing my blood. “Zorath! Help!” I dropped the berries and ran. The world narrowed to the sound of Zaryn’s voice, each step pounding in my ears as I tore through the trees.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
When I broke through the underbrush, I saw it—the thing that had haunted the stories around the village fires. A creature, twisted and malformed, stood over my brother. It was shaped like a bear, but its frame was all wrong—its bones protruded at odd angles, skin stretched tight over them. Its eyes glowed, burning with an unnatural gold fire, its maw full of jagged, mismatched teeth. My heart lurched. Zaryn was cowering, his back against a tree, eyes wide with terror. “Zaryn!” I shouted, raising my spear. The beast turned to me, its gaze locking onto mine as it let out a guttural growl. My hands tightened around the spear, but my father’s words echoed in my mind: A spear is about control. The creature lunged. I thrust forward, the tip of the spear aiming for its exposed chest. It moved faster than I expected, dodging to the side as I barely managed to redirect the blow. Its claws swiped at me, and I stumbled back, the weight of my armour slowing me. The battle became a blur of movement, each second feeling like an eternity. I struck again and again, keeping the beast at bay, but it was strong, relentless. My arms ached, but I had no choice.
My brother’s life depended on me. Each thrust felt more desperate than the last. I could feel it—something inside me stirring, clawing its way to the surface. But it wasn’t just instinct. It was a memory, distant yet familiar. Earth. A crash. My family’s screams. The cold, twisted wreckage. I had failed to protect them once before. Not again. The roar of the beast reverberates, shattering the memory. The beast retreated suddenly, its golden eyes narrowing as it backed into the shadows. I stood there, breathing heavily, spear still raised, waiting for it to lunge again. But it didn’t. Zaryn scrambled to his feet, clutching his spear, eyes wide with fear. He ran to my side, trembling but unharmed. “Let’s go,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the dark trees. “We have to get back to the village.” But as we turned to leave, a sound rolled across the horizon. A deep, thunderous rumble. It wasn’t the sound of rain or wind, but of something far worse. Something closing in. A beast tides.
**The sky above the village was dark by the time we reached the outskirts. Smoke rose in thick columns, and the sounds of battle echoed through the air. Hooded figures with skull masks moved through the chaos, directing the monstrous horde with precision. This wasn’t a raid. It was a massacre. My father’s voice rang out, commanding the remaining villagers to form a defense, but even his strength wasn’t enough. I saw him, in the parrying of the tide amid a devastating crater, as the beasts overwhelmed him. My heart froze. “Run!” someone shouted, but my legs felt heavy, rooted to the spot. “Zaryn!” My voice cracked, searching the chaos for him. But in the smoke and fire, I couldn’t see him anymore. And then I ran. A roar shakes me awake, leaving me gasping for air. The memory shatters, leaving me grasping at fragments, just out of reach. The village, the battle, the screams—they are gone now. But their echoes remain, haunting the edges of my mind and shivers penetrating my bones.