The stringent gait of the chilly night moved on through time, uncaring of the cries that filled the air. Surrounded by trees a flight of children shuffled around me, frightened and alone even in the company of each other.

Who were we? Nobody knew. Not really.

I could see tension in their eyes, and feel it gripping my own. Our names and pasts had been scrubbed from existence. Our histories had been destroyed so thoroughly that none of us could remember who we'd been. With each tick of our internal clocks our survival was becoming more of a priority. Groups formed naturally, frightened looks and panic forcing alliances with strangers.

Someone pushed me from behind, their arms flailing as they began to panic, and I grunted as I fell onto the floor. A puddle had formed from the evening showers, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the waters, the first glimpse since I’d lost my memories. I was short in stature, and my mangled locks of brown hair spread about wildly over my shoulders, giving me a fierce and unruly look, so not many tried to approach me.

As I rose, many people looked into my golden almond eyes and instinctively turned away. I'd always had a naturally sharp expression that frightened children, and made others think I hated them. At least, I thought I had. I wasn’t sure anymore.

There was one exception to the withdrawing children. A hand grasped my side, five small fingers curling around the dirty tunic I called my clothing. Two dark green eyes gazed at me, pleading for help. They belonged to a girl no older than fifteen. My age. Her hair was similar in color to mine, but muddied with dirt, and she was more ragged than I was, her ribs poking through the fabric. I tried to shake the girl off, but she wouldn't let go.

I stopped struggling, and a soft sigh escaped my lips. Something felt right about being near her. Even if I couldn't know why.

Who had she been to me? I didn't know. She didn't know either.

All we knew was that our hearts were telling us we were safe around each other. My heartbeat slowed a tick, the cool night breeze blowing through my hair and flowing over the gathered crowds.

There were so many children that it was impossible to count us all. But I knew how many of us there were.

Fifty thousand.

I didn't know how I knew that, but that was the number. Only a rare few had known happy homes, or had people who would mourn them. We were the dispossessed. Orphans of war and survivors of monster attacks who had volunteered for this. For most of us, this was a better life than the one we'd escaped.

Even if this choice would kill us, we'd die with full bellies. That would be a first for many of us.

“How do I know this?” I whispered.

I stood deep in thought, unable to answer my own question, and the girl tensed beside me, but I didn't reply to her querying gaze.

Maybe I was going crazy.

"Alchemists."

The beat of my heart quickened as I heard the word spoken. It was the first voice I'd heard in my life other than my own, and the most important. Even with all other memories wiped clean from my mind, I knew that.

I was an alchemist. I would become an alchemist.

It was my life’s goal.

“Ow,” I muttered.

A flurry of memories flickered into my mind. Yes. I could still vividly remember the first time I’d heard the word, it was in a forest identical to this. And spoken with a voice that sounded exactly the same, uncaring and cold. It felt as though I was experiencing Deju Vu. Except that was impossible because right now I was hearing it spoken for the first time.

Why then, were these memories of the word being spoken once before flooding into my mind?

A faint crease crossed over my temple. If these strange memories were right, then next the voice would say, ‘we have gathered you for a purpose. Survival’.

"We have gathered you for a purpose. Survival."

I jolted. There was a delicate rasp to the voice. It was ancient, and commanding. I couldn't tell if the speaker was male or female. Nobody could. The voice crept along my spine and tugged at my gaze, forcing me to look up into the depths of the night sky. All around me, fifty thousand children did the same.

Even the girl clinging to me had shifted, her trembling pausing as surprise took over fear's place.

The owner of the voice was walking across the sky, each step inspiring awe. A dark brown and green robe fluttered in the breeze, and the faint scent of herbs tickled against my nose, familiar and comforting. Their face was covered in a hood, and with the crescent moon against their back, it was impossible to see their face.

"You do not know why you're here. Or how. That is okay. Your old lives don't matter anymore. Nothing about your past does. Only your future is important to me and to this continent. That is why your memories have been taken from you."

I could feel the power resonating within the voice. The speaker's words weren't loud, or sharp, but each one wormed its way into my mind. Dug in by magic.

Frightened murmurs rose. A thousand voices cried out at once.

"Silence."

The figure raised their hand, and an object appeared within their palm. It was a small pill, no larger than a grain of rice. The murmurs stilled as all eyes were drawn toward the item. Some were curious, and others were apprehensive. Most had no idea what it was.

A single crunch resounded through the forest as the figure crushed the pill into dust, and the sound was quickly lost in the cries of frightened children. But as the pill's remains floated over the crowd the voices fell silent.

A tremor ran through my arm, and the girl clinging to me shuffled uncomfortably, her mouth opening but no sound coming out. I could feel something playfully moving through the air as the pill's dust swept over me. The being watched us with interest, and caressed our souls.

Instinctively, I knew that it was magic.

"Yes, this is the power of an alchemist. One coveted by the world. Listen carefully, in a moment I will be dead."

The figure's voice wobbled delicately, each word showing signs of a breaking spirit. This wasn't an act. It was their final message.

"But my legacy will live on through you, my child. I have gathered fifty thousand others here so that I can hide your existence from our enemies. To give you a chance at life."

Defeaning silence met their words, confusion clearly marked on the faces around us. All except for a select few.

“As for the rest of you, I suppose you are owed some explanation,” the figure seemed to notice us for the first time. “I am the Alchemist. And from this day forth you will be my children. We are in the continent of Destra, the eastern continent of this world, and each of you have been given up, or given yourselves up, in service to my will. When you leave this place, each of you will bear my mark. It will aid you walk the path of alchemy, it will help you grow, and it will grant you a better life than you would have had. But these gifts are nothing compared to the true value of my mark. One of you is my heir, and their memories have been erased just like the others. The chance that you could be them will open up unimaginable opportunities, and bring down the wrath of enemies you have never known. Use it wisely.”

His words struck us with callous indifference, and not everyone understood them immediately. But I knew their meaning because the flood of strange memories in my mind was matching up perfectly with what I was hearing. All of us had been gathered here to protect a single child, and our memories had been erased for the same purpose.

The Alchemist was hiding his progeny among us.

I'd been crying the first time I'd heard these words. My tears had blocked my vision. Because of that, I hadn't seen the differences in the expressions of the children around me. Now, I was level headed enough to check them. Most of the children were tearful, and terror etched their features. But there were exceptions.

Stolen story; please report.

Most of the children were impossible to see, so I quickly shuffled onto a hill and strained my neck to find the few in the crowd who weren't crying in terror.

One tall child had straightened his posture, his gaze confused but resolute. Two children, each identical in physique and looks, gazed sadly at the figure above, though they weren't sure why. And far into the forest, I caught a glimpse of a young girl with silver hair leaning against a tree, her body encased in a ray of moonlight filtering through the branches. She examined the crowds, searching for something. Or someone.

The girl beside me was frightened, but her eyes never blinked, and they never left the speaker in the sky.

Only one person smiled.

He had hair as black as obsidian, but with a faint shine to it, cut short, and stormy irises that soaked in the world around them with calm poise. And unlike the others, his clothing was woven of fine red and black silk.

“Is it you?” I whispered.

Though he was too far away to hear my words, the boy’s head tilted, and his gaze fell to meet mine. Surprise crossed his features, and then his smile deepened.

"As for what will happen to you now, well, some of you will survive the upcoming trials. Maybe you will even make a name for yourselves. I will be content if even one of you touches the coattails of my reputation. As for the ones who don't...It doesn't matter. You'll be dead. And my child will survive because of your sacrifice."

The words were spoken with such absolution that nobody responded, even in our silenced state. What the figure was saying wasn't a threat or hypothetical. It was a fact.

A flash of light in the distance punctured the figure's words, and the Alchemist shifted for the first time, staring at it.

"Our time draws to a close. My enemies have found me. Found you. But that will not be a problem anymore."

Purple light spilled into the air as a crystal appeared behind the Alchemist. My eyes were drawn to its innards, where purple mist gave way to a black abyss that swirled temptingly within.

The crystal hadn't fallen from the sky, or risen from the ground. Instead, it had appeared from thin air. Purple mist spilled out of its surface, covering the forest and cutting off our sight. Deafening silence continued, eerie and unnatural as frightened children screamed without sound across my vision. In seconds the only person I could feel was the girl clinging tightly to me.

I wrapped my arm in hers, taking comfort in knowing that someone was there.

"This is the mark of the alchemist. Branded for the rest of your lives, you will bear it with pride."

Something rippled over my shoulders, baring its fangs at me and hissing. A swift touch of its kiss clasped against my back, directly on my right shoulder blade, and an explosion of pain accompanied it.

I was being marked.

The pain rippled through my being and I gritted my teeth as the girl beside me cried out, clasping her left arm. Our pained voices were joined by fifty thousand others, and as our silence was broken a single voice loomed over the shouting.

"In a moment, you will be transported to your caretakers. They are volunteers both greedy and honorable. Some of you will be given a better life. Others will be vilified."

The Alchemist’s voice floated through the purple mists, breaking into my mind as pain wracked my body.

"Know this. From now on, all who hunt my child will hunt you too. For they do not know who belongs to my lineage and who is innocent. Nor do they care. They will hunt any who bear the mark. If you wish to survive, grow strong. Until then, hide your branding. For it is a death sentence I have happily given you. But do not mistake it for true heritage. Only my child bears the real legacy. Only they will rise to power. You are the wheat that hides the gold underneath. Don't forget it. Now go. Go forth into the world. Go to your new homes. And remember the kindness I have shown you, for you would be dead without me. Even if you do not remember it."

His words were accompanied by a bright flash of light, and I blinked in surprise as a blue box appeared in front of my vision.

[Your skill, I Want To Go Back (legendary), has unlocked.]

“What?” I cried out through my pain.

The blue box blinked as I acknowledged it, and then disappeared, only to be replaced by another.

I Want To Go Back (legendary): Memories of a past life flood through you. Some from a distant time, most from the nearest years of your life. You have lived a life, and yet it is locked away, chained, for fear of the madness it would instill in you. Some memories may still slip through, for they are a part of you, but most will remain locked until you rank up this skill.

Tiers:

Tier 0: Unlocked. The next five years of your life have been lived once before. These former memories will become clear to you in the coming months. If you activate the skill, specific memories will reveal themselves to you.

Tier 1: Rank up requirements have not been met. Trials completed: 0/2.

I read through the words with disbelief, wondering if I’d gone mad. But that was impossible, since I had no memories before today that could drive me insane.

So, I followed my instincts, and spoke a single word. “Activate.”

[Your skill, I Want To Go Back (legendary), has activated.]

The girl beside me perked her head up, gazing at me with her almond-gold eyes, but I ignored her as a flood of images and sounds accompanied the Alchemist’s purple mist, each faint and shadowy, like I was watching a dream from afar. One by one the images flooded into me, and the purple around me slowly crescendoed until it covered me entirely.

They were memories. Knowledge of a life I’d lived, and of one that I would live again. Each image was as thin as a fog clinging to my mind, but with each sweep of the purple lights they became clearer. The mist that hung over them was loosening, and a sense of familiarity and impending doom lingered over me.

Each memory was taken from the next five years of my life. And yet, I couldn’t take in the entirety of the life I lived during that time. That was impossible. These were glimpses and flashes of what was to come. In these new memories, I hadn't enjoyed life. The next five years would be a living hell.

And the cause of it all was one man.

“It worked. It truly worked.”

A gruff voice jolted me out of my stupor.

“The Alchemist’s Children have arrived.”

Standing before us was a thin and gangly old man, his wrinkled skin hanging loosely over what had once been proud muscles. A white beard with flecks of black flowed from his chin, and he wore a resplendent silver robe tied together with a thick belt. Runes and symbols swirled on its fabric, each of their edges shimmering faintly with silver light. Clasped onto the side of his robe was a bronze mask, a series of wave-like markings etched onto it, and his hand caressed its surface as it hung from his belt.

Four servants flanked him on either side, their confusion barely restrained. Any signs of a forest were gone, and the sky had disappeared, replaced by a thick wooden ceiling and the sight of a long and empty hall.

“Huh?” One of the children nearby held a hand against their temple and groaned. “What happened?”

Teleportation.

The answer came to me immediately, but I kept my mouth shut. The man in the lead quivered with excitement at the sight of me. At the sight of us. By my right side was the girl who had clung so tightly to me, her sapphire eyes wide with fear. To her right were four others, each wearing rags similar to our own. They looked no less confused than us, and I felt a spark of recognition upon seeing each of them.

There were six of us in total, but the other children only had eyes for the man in front of us, and I didn’t blame them. He towered over our group, his posture regal even in old age. Most of us were still growing, so compared to the children before him, he was a giant, though he wasn’t more than six and a half feet tall. Only one child stood as his equal, a boy in the middle of our group whose muscles. A name flickered within my mind, Brandon.

“You. Tell me your name,” the man ordered.

His words were directed at the opposite end of the lineup, toward a girl whose rags were cleaner than ours, and more reminiscent of proper clothing. She had silver hair, and a flicker of recognition crossed my mind. She was the girl I’d seen in the clearing, one of the only children who’d had a calm expression during the Alchemist’s speech, and she’d been searching the crowd like I had.

Kiela.

That was the name that flickered through my mind. But it was one she hadn’t been given yet. The man’s eyes lingered on Kiela’s neck, and several of the servants gasped as they laid eyes on her skin. Thick orange lines were carved over her collar and throat, scratched into the skin and across like flames.

She was branded. Just as we all were. And my rapidly recovering memories were screaming at me that this mark was the source of all our problems.

It was the mark of the Alchemist.

“I—I don’t know my name,” the girl replied. Her voice came out as a quiver, the melodic and rosy tone marred by terror.

The man raised his hand and she flinched, but when it came down it was to pat her shoulder. “Good. Good. Don’t worry, I will assign you a name.” He hummed and hawed, tugging at his beard pensively as we waited in anticipation. Finally, he nodded to himself. “From now on, you are Kiela.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kiela replied, bowing slightly.

“Do not call me sir, my name is Mou, and my title is Patriarch. You shall refer to me by my title, Patriarch, or by the title Patriarch Mou,” the man’s voice boomed across the hall. “I will not tolerate any other name, not from the Alchemist’s Children.”

Each of us straightened as we heard the seriousness of his tone. Patriarch Mou’s voice was the strongest part of his image, and fear crept along my spine as I heard it.

“Now then, Kiela, you are not the only one who should give thanks,” the man chuckled. “The rest of you will also be granted names. Personal ones, given by my own hand.”

One by one he went through the five other Alchemist’s Children. There were three boys, and three girls. An even distribution. Patriarch Mou asked each of them for their names. In return, they each said that they couldn't remember. So, he paused and thought for several minutes, and slowly he came up with a name for each of the children. It was clear that he was picking them at random, but right before he spoke a flash of knowledge struck my mind.

Kiela. Jaden. Brandon. Jein. Rain.

“Kiela.” “Jaden.” “Brandon.” “Jein.” “Rain.”

The man’s names matched my memories perfectly, and each of the children preened and smiled as they were granted them. Most of them thanked the Patriarch, and the only exception was the girl beside me. She simply stared at him, and then nodded as she was given the name, Rain.

My memories were still muddled, but I knew that I'd reacted in the same way as the celebrators during my past life. It was the greatest mistake I’d ever made.

“And you?” Patriarch Mou’s expression was almost jovial now. Like he had found a chest full of treasure, and was thinking of ways to spend it. “What is your name?”

I couldn’t remember my true name that I’d had before my memories had been taken by the Alchemist. But I did remember another name, one that had been given to me in my past life, but had yet to be given to me in this lifetime.

“My name is Aldwyn,” I said. “But that is all I remember.”

The Patriarch's eyes turned cold.

“Yet, you do remember something.” An angry growl billowed out from the man’s throat. “Which means you are useless to me.”