Suddenly the young man smiled, a reaction unfit of his profile as he looked the leader in the eyes studying his every move his assessment incomprehensible to the untrained eye.
As the oppressive tall figure stood before him what followed were drops of blue liquid falling to the ground and the dagger being unsheathed. As the man raised his finger dripping with blue blood the young man extended his left hand letting the liquid wet the bandage, indescribable ravings echoed from the giant’s mouth into the young man’s ears as the blue blood stopped dripping from the tall figure’s finger.
As he removed the bandage only an unobvious scar could be spotted and a deep voice quickly resounded:” It’s unwise to have an injury in such an environment”
“Thank you” the young man responded maintaining my smile
Slowly, the smile on the young man’s face disappeared once again as his gaze became distant. Fragmented memories appeared like passing scenes in front of him, a man with mismatched eyes teasing him about his choice of outfit, a mature elder giving him life advice telling him to value his life more, a woman with golden eyes throwing a tantrum over losing a card game yet being the most reliable when sought for help, a gentle yet fierce expert combatant that had an obvious range advantage in close range combat.
These memories...These are not my memories i raise my hands and look down at my body as I witness the discrepancies reveal themselves before me. This… This is not my body either, are these this body’s memories? But what am I then if not a body? Yet these memories that were revealed to me feel like the story of a stranger …foreign and distant, only serving as a reference to navigate my surroundings. Why are my other memories resonating with me more than these? Is consciousness more than a manifestation of the interaction between the body and the outside world guided by memories and experiences?
As the questions piled up and the young man turned from rationally analyzing his situation to being stuck in a philosophical dilemma, he was reminded by his earlier realization of his strange behavior, a cold and rational demeanor unfit of this strange and mystical situation.
That tall man is part of this body’s memories, I was able to make my assessment earlier by taking advantage of that. They should be familiar with this body, yet they didn’t question my existence here. Are they doing it on purpose? No, I need to be realistic there might be something more here. Are these memories really this body's? Or were they implanted in me to serve some party's goals? Either way, the conclusion is clear, these people have the advantage both in numbers and mysticism knowledge and power. I need to go along with their wims for now and escape when I find a safe opportunity.
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Meanwhile, among the crowd, the blonde woman in a gothic dress looked at the young man who was in deep thought. Her eyes, devoid of emotion, held within them the depths of an unfathomable abyss.