Cold.

An enveloping cold that assaulted his senses like millions of needles. A cold so intense that it forced the breath from his lungs and shocked him into consciousness. The cold was his first memory like he had been birthed from an icy womb. Frigid water assaulted his eyes as he forced them open to reveal that he was surrounded by inky blackness.

He opened his mouth to scream in frustration, but the ice cold water rushed down his throat, choking him. Enraged, he thrashed for the surface, but his limbs felt heavy. They had been numbed by the cold. No, it wasn’t just the cold. Something was encumbering him. He flailed his arms about in an effort to fling whatever was clinging to him off, but it was to no avail. Whatever it was that was dragging him down was attached tightly to his limbs.

With great willpower, the man forced his murderous rage to subside, somehow aware that it would do him no good. He cleared his mind and attempted to think logically. First, he touched his hands to his body. His hands, like his body were encased in a hard shell. While he was exploring the carapace that encased his body, the current sent him crashing headfirst into something hard. His body went limp, and the man saw stars. Reaching for his head, he realized that it too was encased in the same hard substance. He felt himself sink as his body relaxed and attempted to thrash for the surface again when his feet brushed across something hard.

It was the floor of wherever he was. He cast the distractions out of his mind and focused his mind again. How could he use this? He relaxed, allowed himself to sink to the bottom and coiled his legs like springs. He was caught in a swift current and getting proper purchase was difficult, but he managed to propel himself upwards and gasped when his head broke the surface.

He gulped in the air and took stock of his surroundings. He was somewhere dark. A tunnel perhaps. He smashed into another rock and had the wind knocked out of him when the stream carried him around a corner, bringing a distant point of light into view. Then, he became aware of the sound of distant rumbling just before whatever it was that encumbered him dragged him back below the surface.

Knowing now what he had to do to stay alive, at least in the short term, the man gathered his strength as he allowed himself to sink back down. He then realized that the current was growing stronger. When he propelled himself to the surface again, he saw that the point of light was now nearer and that the sound of rumbling was growing louder. His eyes adjusted to the light, and he could now see that he was fast approaching the mouth of a cave.

He was dragged under again, but the water had grown shallower, and he could breach the surface just by bouncing off his toes. However, he couldn’t see what lay beyond the mouth of the cave. The swift current and the rumbling that had grown into the roar had triggered a sense of dread for reasons he did not understand.

He decided that this was the time to trust his instincts. He let the current drag him along for a moment before gathering his strength and leaping off the floor with all his might. To his surprise, he managed to propel almost half his body out of the water, and when his brain pieced together what his eyes were seeing beyond the mouth of the cave, he understood where his sense of dread was coming from.

He could see treetops in the distance, far below where he was. That, combined with the roaring sound meant that he was about to be carried over a waterfall. He knew he had to get out of this stream. Fortunately for him, it continued to narrow as it approached the mouth. However, that also meant that the current was growing stronger, propelling him forward at an ever increasing speed.

The man attempted to bounce his way off the bottom of the stream the side, but once there, found that he was moving too quickly to haul himself out until he managed to grab onto a rocky outcropping. He felt the muscles and tendons in his arms strain as he fought the current and came to a complete stop. He gasped from the exertion and took a moment to gather his strength.

With a gargantuan effort, he managed to haul himself onto the rocks and out of the water. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he searched his memory for a clue as to who he was and what he was doing here. However, no matter how hard he racked his brain, his earliest memory was the cold of the water.

When he had the strength, the man rolled himself onto his back and looked down at his arms. He saw that they were encased in steel and assumed that was the case for the rest of his body. What was its purpose? He attempted to sit upright but found that he lacked the strength. He would have to stay still for a little while to allow his body to recover. Then what?

First things first. He had to find a way out of this cave. Then, look for his own kind. What was his kind? Perhaps taking a look at himself would jog his memory. Curiosity gave him a surge of strength and he gingerly got to his feet. Like a newborn foal, he gingerly took his first steps on unsteady feet. However, it was too soon, and he staggered, almost falling back into the stream before he steadied himself with the aid of a nearby stalagmite.

Carefully, he inched towards the stream’s edge, being extra mindful of his footing. Once there, he craned his neck over the water and peered at his reflection. Initially, he was shocked to see a hulking figure that was silver in colour from head to toe staring back at him. Great horns sprouted from his head that bore a malevolent face that was contorted into a mask of rage.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Slowly, the man reached for one of his horns and felt a twinge of despair when he saw the figure in the water do the same, eliminating any doubt that it was his reflection. He touched the horn before tugging on it, causing it to tilt. Realizing he was wearing a helmet, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then, confusion. Why was he relieved? Perhaps subconsciously, he had an idea of what he should look like, though when he thought about it, nothing came to mind.

He attempted to pull his helmet off but found that it was secured by a chinstrap. His fingers were numb from the cold but eventually, he worked it loose. He pulled the helmet off his head and inspected it in the hopes of finding a clue as to his identity. Gazing upon the grotesque face chiselled into the mask filled him with an inexplicable sense of revulsion. Without thinking, he hurled the helmet with all his strength. It struck the opposite side of the cave with a clang before landing in the stream.

Despite how cold he was, the man felt a bead of perspiration roll down the side of his head, but he felt a sense of frustration that the helmet’s visage had stirred strong emotions in him, but no tangible memories.

The man shook his head and decided he had rested long enough. The next thing he would do was get his bearings. Slowly, the man made his way towards the mouth of the cave. Once there, he saw that the stream he had just been in fed into a small lake roughly a hundred feet below. A forest surrounded the lake and standing in a clearing further in land was a village consisting of several small buildings clustered around a large manor.

The man turned his gaze up and frowned. Across the entire breadth of his view was another cliff, and hundreds of feet above the forest was a stone ceiling that radiated a soft yellow light. They appeared to be inside a giant dome shaped cavern that was roughly eight miles across. Something about that was strange, but he couldn’t tell what. Frustrated at his lack of knowledge, he turned his attention down. As far as he could tell, the cave seemed to open up onto a cliff face that was completely sheer and smooth. Climbing down was out of the question, and something told him jumping would be a bad idea.

He turned around and peered back into the gloom of the cave. He’d have to go back in. Besides, he’d come from somewhere in there. He decided to backtrack and see where he came from before he plunged into the stream.

The cave was dark, and the footing slippery, obliging the man to place his hand on the rockface to steady himself as he walked upstream. After walking for several minutes, the ledge running along the stream ended abruptly. The only way upstream was to swim against the current. The man craned his neck and peered into the gloom. Water appeared to trickle in from above, but in the darkness, he could not make out its source, nor could he see this part of the chamber’s roof. A dead end.

Despair crept into his heart. Was jumping from the cave mouth into certain death his only choice? As he weighed his options, a strange scent caught his attention. It was sickly sweet and deeply unpleasant. He sniffed the air. The scent was coming from the other side of the stream. He gave the stream a look of disdain and looked around. Seeing no other option, he took a deep breath before plunging back into the icy cold water.

Using the bouncing technique from earlier, he made it to the opposite side of the stream well before he was swept out of the mouth of the cave and hauled himself out feeling very much like a drowned cat. As he picked himself up, he vowed to himself that he would never go swimming again.

The man raised his arm to steady himself against the cave’s wall and felt the steel around his forearm slip. He frowned and held his arm up to the light to examine it. It appeared that the steel enveloping it was held in place by a leather strap. For the first time, it occurred to him that the metal he was encased in could be removed like the helmet, and he cursed himself roundly. The helmet had been heavy, and so too, it stood to reason was the steel he was encased in. Taking it off would have made his swim much easier. He was wearing armour! Looking back, it seemed so obvious. There was no time to dwell on that, though, as he caught a glimpse of an opening in the cavern’s rock wall.

His instincts told him what lay beyond could be dangerous, and that there was safety to be had in being clad in steel. The opening led him into a passageway that appeared to be artificially made. Once he entered, the sickly sweet smell grew stronger and something in his mind told him that it was the stench of decay.

Something in the back of his mind told him he should move quietly, but it proved an impossible feat in his sodden armour that rattled and creaked as he moved. After he rounded a corner in the passageway, a flickering light came into view. Then, he heard them.

Voices. Low and guttural, at least three different speakers communicating in a language he couldn’t understand. As he approached, the voices ceased, and his pulse quickened. They had heard him coming.

One of the shouted something. Though he didn’t understand the words, it was clear that it was a challenge. The man didn’t reply, and moments later, a figure came hurtling towards him. It was a head shorted than he was but almost as broad at the shoulder. It had a tusked face and was covered in green skin. His eyes were then drawn to the scimitar that gleamed in its hand.

There was a savage glee on the creature’s face as it charged towards the man and held its weapon up high over its head, leaving no doubt in the man’s mind as to its intentions. As the creature brought its weapon down, the man felt strangely calm. His body seemed to move on its own as he sidestepped the creature’s clumsy blow and punched it square in the face with a gauntleted fist. The creature’s momentum dramatically increased the impact, and it let out a grunt as it flipped backwards before crashing to the ground.

The man looked up from the green skinned creature’s pulverized face and wondered what had just happened. His body had moved on his own. A shrill, high pitched shriek echoed down the passageway, breaking him out of his stupor and he looked up to see a pair of the creature’s companions looking at him, the fear was clear on their faces as they stared at him. Slowly, the man reached down and closed his hand around the hilt of the fallen creature’s weapon. Ge found great comfort in holding the weapon. It was as though he had been reunited with a part of him that he had just realized was missing.

Upon seeing him pick up the weapon, the two creatures retreated hastily. The man followed at a relaxed pace. Then the sound of drums started from somewhere further down the passageway followed by more shrieks. His heart began to thump pleasantly. Blood surged through his veins, and his muscles quivered in anticipation. Battle was about to be joined, and the corners of the man’s lips curled up into a smile. He had discovered something about himself. He was a warrior.