Chapter 0: Prologue

“Wake up, little sun,” whispered a non-existent breeze.

I groggily opened my eyes, not really processing what I was seeing, my vision swimming from the sensory overload.

The bright, cheery summer sky and the gentle breeze wafting through the scattered benian trees, which constantly shed their old, drying leaves, created an achingly nostalgic scene. It was so familiar, and yet, subconsciously, I knew it was wrong.

‘Where am I? No, who am I?’

I climbed out of the shallow pit I was in, displacing the clay and gravel that had kept me partially entombed. A cursory glance at my body revealed healthy, pasty white skin clothed in soft silks. My head had been resting on ragged leather armour. At the corner of the pit was a small stone marker with a very intricate symbol depicting a serpent eating its own tail, which had faded over the years. My heart ached when I recognized that symbol.

‘I shouldn’t be here’

I could make out I was at the border of civilization and wilderness. The fields of ripe, golden grain ready for harvest stretched as far as the eye could see towards the south, helping me recall old, carefree times of traveling these paths with… with who?

‘There was a girl, wasn’t there?’

Trying to recall anything along this tangent caused a very unpleasant clenching of my chest, so I decided to pursue this later. I had more pressing concerns at the moment. Somehow, I knew that individuals like me were not safe in the wilderness. How I knew that fact with my jumbled memories was a miracle in itself.

On the other hand, I knew I shouldn’t be here. But whether ‘here’ specifically meant this village, province, or something else entirely, I couldn’t say. I awoke in what looked like a makeshift ditch. Did someone try to do me in and fail, or was I misreading the situation entirely? I couldn’t say with any certainty. The only thing I instinctively knew was that I should avoid drawing attention to myself.

So, I had a simple choice to make right now. If I travelled north, I should be able to find a narrow path cutting through the dense jungle. After traveling a week on foot, I should reach a mighty river that was nigh impassable. That would be the best option if I wanted to avoid civilization at all costs.

Or, if I travelled south on the dirt road, I should be able to journey to a large town or, if feeling very charitable, a small city in a day’s time. Both had their pros and cons. In the wilderness, I’d be in mortal danger almost constantly, never getting a moment’s rest, having to constantly look over my shoulder and forage for supplies. I didn’t fancy my chances alone. In the city, I’d need to constantly disguise myself and avoid standing out.

Luckily for me, the settlement was just the right size. Large enough that, unlike villages and small towns, it wouldn’t consist of a small, tight-knit community where everyone knew everyone else, which should greatly aid in me blending in. On the other hand, small enough that, unlike major cities, it wouldn’t be teeming with professional politia and guard forces keeping the peace.

I had a small problem, though. The more I racked my brain, the more I was sure subterfuge wasn’t a part of my core skillset. But I guess I would have to learn it on the fly.

As I made my way on the dirt road, more and more signs of civilization started popping up on the landscape. A hut here, a mill down yonder, even what appeared to be a grand temple with gleaming marble statues dedicated to a deity whose name I had forgotten.

My ruminations came to a screeching halt. That term I subconsciously knew held some great significance to me. It stirred within me a highly complex and conflicting set of emotions.

I clutched my head, trying to prevent an oncoming headache. Opening my eyes, I tried to focus on anything but the temple. My attention was drawn towards the villagers toiling in the fields, occasionally being aided by young children.

Curiously, at least three out of five individuals were of the fairer sex. Although a limited sample size, this fact seemed to hold true for the occasional travellers on the road as well. Unsure about what to make of this observation, I pushed it to the back of my mind.

As I continued my journey, my head continued to throb. Instinctively, I tried to avoid the shade of the occasional benian trees to the best of my ability. The warm summer sun felt deeply soothing, like the embrace of an old companion.

I decided to take a breather and lean against the husk of a dead tree by the side of the road. My mind was preoccupied by the bubbling up of old memories.

“Solen, that… that was my name.”

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My voice was scratchy and hoarse from not being used for a while. It sounded almost alien to me.

“My goodness, young sir. Are you alright?”

With my focus turned inward, I had been unable to notice the approach of a mature woman who I had seen tilling the fields nearby.

My mind came to a screeching halt. I knew I was no Sir of any kind, and I should be older than her, so the young part didn’t apply either. Why then did she make such an obvious faux pas?

Racking my brains, I remembered I was always said to have very effeminate features that didn’t change much over time. It caused me no amount of grief growing up. I suppose I could be mistaken for a noble, as only they could afford to groom themselves regularly, and I was naturally blessed in that department.

I didn’t have any body hair, and it took very little effort for me to appear tidy and fresh. I suppose the way I was dressed didn’t help in alleviating the misconception either. Why I was dressed like some dandy was beyond me. I could swear I wore nothing but sturdy cotton fibres my whole life.

As the silence stretched, I became acutely aware that the villager was sizing me up. I was probably an interesting curiosity for her in her humdrum day.

How to respond? I could try to correct her misconception, but that would severely limit my ability to barter for information from her. I wasn’t a deceptive person by nature, and I didn’t have much I could offer her for her time. ‘A little white lie of omission won’t harm anyone,’ I told myself to assuage my guilt.

“Well met, serf. I thank you for your concern. I was just feeling a bit under the weather,” I spoke in a soft but slightly aloof voice, which I remembered nobles sometimes using.

How I knew how nobles talked was another mystery I would get to the bottom of later.

“I am sorry to hear that, sir. Is there anything I can do to help you?” she asked demurely.

Although it looked like I was looking at her, I was using my peripheral vision to discreetly observe the temple.

“Good serf, my headache shall pass soon enough. In the meantime, will you answer this pilgrim’s questions to keep him distracted from it?”

Getting a hesitant nod from her, I tried to discreetly interrogate her. “That is a very grand temple for such a humble village. The local lord must be very generous.”

Both of us knew what I meant when I called this village humble, but she good-naturedly took it in stride.

She tittered politely and replied, “Oh no, sir, he could not have afforded something so majestic. The imperial family funded it themselves to commemorate a great victory in battle near here.”

That piqued my interest a bit. ‘Since when did the Faith of the Storms and the imperial family become so chummy?’

It took me a moment to realize exactly where my thoughts had wandered. I managed to cover my surprise by turning to face the temple. It would seem my mind needed a bit of a jolt to recall my memories.

My attention was drawn back to her. She seemed to have completely gotten over the fact that I was ‘nobility,’ treating me like her favourite gossip buddy.

“It must have been a momentous triumph indeed. Mayhap you have heard a few ballads about it at the local tavern?” My naked curiosity was blatantly apparent.

“I have heard a few tales indeed, but it is all flimflam,” she replied cheerily. However, she immediately looked mortified as a sudden flush crept across her cheeks. Quickly, she added, “Begging your pardon, sir. Sometimes I speak without thinking.”

“It is quite okay, good serf,” I said in as soothing a voice as I could without breaking character. “You can speak freely with this weary wanderer.”

Seeing her waffling from indecision, I walked up to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You have nothing to fear from me. Anything you tell me in confidence, I will take to my grave,” I said while imitating a knight’s oath by keeping my right hand over my heart.

Her hesitant nod was accompanied by a light blush forming on her cheeks.

After a brief pause, she continued explaining with the same level of enthusiasm, "There was never any battle around these parts. It’s all been made up."

“Why do you think the higher-ups claim there was one?” I inquired, feeling my interest gradually waning. If this was someone’s convoluted, cooked-up way to serve some obscure political agenda, then I was just wasting my time here.

"I don't know the reason," she admitted, a bit sheepishly. "Maybe the regulars at the tavern would know more. They tend to meet travellers from afar often enough. They must have heard something."

“Do you not visit the local tavern very often?” I questioned, more to continue the discussion than out of any genuine desire to learn why the imperial family was tricking their own populace.

She gently shook her head, giving a theatrical, long-suffering huff. “I very rarely go there, mostly just to stop my husband from drinking and whoring.”

Her candour and refreshing honesty made me gently smile, although I found it curious how little import she placed on her husband’s philandering ways.

‘Am I missing something here?’

“Ahh,” she clicked her fingers, recalling something. “Are you on a pilgrimage to the temple also, sir?”

I was curious to gauge the serf’s reverence for the temple itself, despite her scepticism regarding the motive behind its construction. It seemed she held the divine in far higher esteem than the imperial dynasty, who had commissioned the temple dedicated to one of their number.

Oh, hang on, she did remember my half-forgotten lie.

“I am not a worshipper of the Storms, good serf. I am a follower of the Faith of the Sun.” That truth reverberated with the core of my being, even though it was coloured with darker overtones.

“Oh, you must be on your own journey of enlightenment then,” she said, not letting me get in a word edgewise.

I let her build her own fabricated story in her head about my circumstances. It served my purpose right now. I made a mental note to reward her for her kindness if, no, when I get the opportunity to.

“That is correct, good serf,” I nodded my head. Strictly speaking, I was trying to find out the truth about what had happened to me, so it wasn’t technically a lie.

The gossip queen relished the novelty of chatting with ‘nobility’ and appeared in no hurry to return to work.

“It’s a shame you aren’t visiting the grand temple though, sir. You would have been one of the lucky ones to beat the long queues of knights and devotees who journey from the capital to the temple around this time of the year.”

Ok, that exchange helped explain a lot of little things. No wonder the area around the structure was empty. It was probably the place where the temporary accommodations for the pilgrims would be constructed. And that certainly explained why my ‘informant’ was so bold to approach a complete stranger of ‘higher social standing.’

The entire village’s local economy must depend heavily on the largesse of the devotees visiting the grand temple here. All the villagers must hawk their goods and services to the travellers to earn a pretty packet on the side.

‘So why did their homes look like hovels?’

I had a feeling my inquisitiveness in this area wouldn’t endear me to her, so I kept my curiosity under wraps.

After talking with the villager some more and learning about the logistical nightmare this coming fiesta would be, I decided to bid my adieu to the villager. The serf woman wasn’t in any hurry, though. She was going into excruciating detail about the numbers of merchant caravans she expected would be coming to service this coming sea of humanity, and what she had been saving up to buy for her beloved twins.

When she started delving into her excitement for her brother’s family’s impending visit, coupled with the arrival of numerous other visitors eager to witness the majestic parade of knights, my patience was getting seriously taxed.

“Good serf, I thank you for entertaining the curiosity of this weary traveller, but I must bid you adieu. I must continue my journey forth,” I said a bit firmly and pompously, a light warning tone in my voice. It again gave me a very nostalgic feeling, like I had heard this tone many times before.

As I continued on my journey, having said my farewells, a memory of my younger self waving goodbye to an old man bubbled up to the surface. “Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t forget, and I will not abandon our creed even if it gets hard.”

I quickly wiped my eyes as they had become slightly misty.

‘What an idiot.’