Exactly the same year in the realm of Arramaya
Lying on the damp riverbank, a man opened his eyes.
"HAAGH!" His gasp tore through the silence, the sudden light burning his vision. For a moment, he could see nothing but orange and white, his head throbbing with dull, pulsing pain. As his vision adjusted, he realized the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm but dimming glow over the landscape. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all.
“Where... where am I?” he muttered. Panic flickered in his chest. He looked down at his trembling hands, his bare skin, and a wave of confusion hit him. He was naked, lying on wet earth by a river, yet he had no memory of how he’d come to be there. Nothing. No details about his life, his name, his past. Just... emptiness.
The panic tightened its grip on his throat as he stumbled to his feet. His legs shook beneath him, like a newborn fawn trying to stand. “Who... am I?” His voice cracked as the fear sank in. He glanced down at his body—slender, pale, with no visible scars or markings that could give him any clues. Am I being reincarnated?
He turned, looking around, searching for anything familiar in the landscape. But the world around him was silent and unfamiliar—no answers waiting in the air, no recognition stirring in his chest. His pulse raced. He started to run along the side of the river, driven by the hope that movement might jar something loose in his mind, might shake free a memory.
"Is this a dream?" His voice was barely a whisper as he pinched his arm hard, desperate to wake up. “Ouch,” he hissed. The pain was sharp and real. This wasn’t a dream. It was worse—it was reality.
His chest heaved as he stopped running, collapsing onto a rock by the riverbank. He buried his face in his hands, the coldness of his skin a reminder of how exposed and lost he was. I don’t even know my own face...
Suddenly, he looked at the river, an idea forming in his mind. He leaned over the water’s edge, and his reflection stared back at him—a stranger’s face. Black hair, disheveled and wet. Black eyes that seemed to hold nothing but questions. A face around 19 or 20 years old, with no features that felt familiar.
Is that really me? The face offered him no answers, only confusion. The longer he stared, the more foreign it felt, as though the reflection belonged to someone else entirely. It left him feeling hollow.
After resting for a few minutes, he forced himself to continue walking. The landscape around him began to shift, becoming more picturesque, as if the world itself was trying to soothe his racing mind. The setting sun bathed the sky in shades of orange and pink, casting long shadows over the tall grass that swayed in the gentle breeze. The river’s melody was soft, calming, but it did little to ease the tension that gripped his chest.
After walking for what felt like an eternity, he saw a small town nestled between rolling hills and dense forests in the distance. A weathered wooden sign swayed in the wind. Vermint Town. His heart lifted for the first time. Perhaps someone here would know him, or at the very least, help him understand what was happening.
With renewed determination, he changed direction and headed toward the town. The closer he got, the more his senses came alive. The buildings were quaint, blending with the natural landscape. The air was thick with the smell of fresh-baked bread and flowers, an oddly peaceful contrast to his inner turmoil. People smiled at him as he passed, though they looked puzzled—understandable, given that he was nearly naked, his body covered only by the leaves he had hastily gathered.
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Children’s laughter rang through the cobblestone streets, echoing off the old buildings. Everything seemed so normal here, so peaceful, but it only deepened the sense of unease in his gut. Why don’t I feel like I belong here?
He continued walking, hoping someone might recognize him, but each face he passed was filled with mild curiosity, not recognition. After a short time, he saw a man struggling with a heavy sack of rice. The man, noticing him, dropped the sack and approached with a concerned expression.
“Are you lost? Do you need help?” the man asked, his voice warm, though his brow furrowed in confusion.
The stranger—Kyren—hesitated. “Yes...” he finally said, the name barely a whisper on his lips. “I woke up by the river... no memory of who I am or where I came from. The only thing that came to mind was the name Kyren. Maybe it’s mine... maybe it’s not. I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration showing.
The man smiled softly, nodding. “I see. Well, Kyren, you’re lucky you found Vermint Town. It’s small, but it’s home. I’m Hiro.” He clapped Kyren on the shoulder and handed him a spare set of clothes from his backpack. "Here. Put these on. You look like you’ve had a rough day.”
Kyren took the clothes gratefully, slipping into the shirt and pants Hiro had given him. The fabric felt unfamiliar but comforting. “Thanks... for everything. You’re surprisingly chill about this.”
Hiro chuckled. “Strange things happen around here. I’ve learned not to ask too many questions.” He tilted his head toward the town. “Let’s get you settled. Tomorrow, we’ll introduce you to folks. If you’re from around here, someone might know you.”
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Hiro led Kyren to a small, cozy house nestled among the trees. It was simple, with a garden out front, and the sound of crickets filled the air as they stepped inside.
“TA-DAA! Home sweet home,” Hiro said with a grin. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Kyren smiled faintly. “I appreciate your kindness, Hiro. You’ve been... really welcoming.”
Hiro waved it off. “You’d do the same for me, right? Let’s eat. We’ll talk more over dinner.”
Later, when it was time to rest, Hiro insisted Kyren take the bed while he settled on the couch. Kyren protested at first but eventually gave in, grateful for Hiro’s hospitality. As Kyren lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind wandered back to the river, to the empty reflection in the water.
Who am I? The question was heavy, and sleep took its time coming.
----------------------------------------
Suddenly, Kyren found himself running. The sky above was dark, the ground cracked and lifeless. His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted, fear gripping him. Something was chasing him—he could feel it.
He skidded to a halt. The landscape around him shifted, the river from earlier now gone, replaced by barren earth. His breath came in ragged gasps, and when he turned around, there it was—a red devil-like creature, eyes glowing with malice.
“Who... who are you?” he shouted, his voice trembling.
The creature grinned, its teeth sharp and predatory. It didn’t answer. Instead, it vanished in the blink of an eye, and in that same heartbeat, Kyren felt a searing pain in his chest. A clawed hand had appeared, stabbing him through the heart from behind. He gasped, choking on air that felt too thick, as the world turned red around him.
Kyren awoke with a start, gasping for breath. Sweat drenched his body, and his heart pounded as if it hadn’t left the nightmare. Just a dream... just a nightmare... he told himself, trying to calm down.
But something was wrong. Hiro wasn’t in the house. Panic surged through him again. He rushed outside, and his worst fears became reality.
The town was in chaos.
Buildings burned, and the sky had turned a sickening red. People screamed as red devil-like creatures ravaged the streets, their claws tearing through anything in their path. The air was thick with the scent of blood and smoke, and Kyren felt frozen in place, unsure of what to do.
And then he saw Hiro—barely breathing, his body slumped against the ground. One of the creatures had driven its claw through his stomach.
“HIROOOOOOOOO!” Kyren screamed, his heart breaking as he sprinted toward him, desperation fueling his every step.
The world felt like it was collapsing around him, but in that moment, all that mattered was reaching Hiro—saving the only person who had shown him kindness in this strange, cruel world.