Hero opened his eyes to an organic ceiling. He found himself to be a bit light-headed. His head and hazy memories swam.

He found himself on a bed inside a cool ward. Mossy stone walls surrounded him, and French windows of stained glass created openings to dusky Ruinton. Jars of glowing insects provided a pleasant atmosphere to the room. A bag of blood hung by his bed, dripping blood he needed into his veins.

Hero tried to sit up, but found his body be afflicted with many aches. Stitches and wounds were minutely disturbed by his movements. He groaned and winced from the pain he felt.

There were two other beds in the room: one empty, and the other occupied; a heavily battered brown rodent lay in it. It was covered from head to toe in bandages. Splotches of rusty red stained her bandages, and casts kept her limbs immobile. Vermilion horns protruded from her head, and a fan of peacock blue decorated her tail. Her tiger yellow eyes pored over the green book that lay before her in a bookstand while a brightly glowing mantis in large jar on her bedside table casted light unto her reading.

The rodent turned her eyes to Hero. Her hands twitched as she tried to wave at the newly awoken Hero. Hero waved, and said "Greetings. My name is Hero's Prophecy." The rodent only gave him contemptuous glare.

The door cracked open, and a handsome canine ambled in. He kept his injured right paw above the ground. Bandages covered his torso, and a metal arm attached to a metal box on his back held a bowl of tomato soup. The rodent stared at the dog with shining eyes.

Hero raised his ears at the sight; he instantly recognized the canine before him. The shiny freshly combed carmine fur and green eyes was unmistakably Buddy's. Buddy turned his sight to Hero.

"Hero! You're okay," Buddy sounded his concern. He jumped to the side of Hero, almost spilling the soup of from its bowl.

"Buddy, you're here. How did you get here?" Hero asked.

Buddy nervously smiled and answered, "That's a long story, I'll tell you later." He then turned to the rodent, the recipient of the soup. "Anyway, Smoke should be bringing you food at this very moment."

The rodent glared at the bear; her eyes emitted invisible lasers boring--

Shush. That's enough, N.

*Sigh.* Buddy put aside the bookstand, and put the bowl in its place. He then began to gingerly spoon the soup into the rodent's mouth. The damaged actuators of his metal arm struggled to keep the spoon completely still.

!!!

Oh my god, B. This soup is absolutely delicious! The salt and spices are just the right blend. There's meaty and vegtable chunks that are just the righ size and softness. It feels like molten goodness in the mouth.

Shush now, N. I made this for you, just how you like it.

Yum! The rodent's eyes glowed in the deliciousness of the soup she is sipping. A few drops of the orange-red liquid stained her bandages.

"Hero, this is Nar," Buddy began. "Nar, this is Hero."

"Hi there," Hero said with a smile on his face. Nar only awkwardly stared at him.

The awkward staring continued for a minute or two. Nar refused to change her disapproving gaze which infected Hero's mood. Buddy sighed and continued to spoon-feed Nar.

The awkward atmosphere broke when Smoke entered through the door with a bowl of vegetable soup. Smoke approached Hero slowly, and handed the bowl to Hero.

Hero inspected the soup. He smelled and looked at it. Chunks of tomato, potato, peas, onions, and chicken floated in the watery soup. Hero leisurely consumed his soup with a stainless steel spoon.

Hmm. Hey, B. Can you put my book in front of me again?

No, N. Eat your soup first. Why do you need it open right now? We're at a cooldown period anyway. Filler chapters all around. Nothing interesting is going on.

I just want to know what Hero's soup tastes like.

... No.

Aww.

~***~

Hero finished his bowl of soup. He wiped the last remnants of soup from his lips. Smoke retrieved the bowl and retreated to the corridors.

The soup Buddy fed Nar had now disappeared, and the bowl that contained it had been escorted to the kitchen. The book was put back in place in front of Nar.

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Tree entered into the room. They stood just as straight as ever, but this time, with some semblance of clothing. The shiny copper colored vest and the attached glass buttons glittered in the soft lighting of the chamber. Hero noted the sword that hung from their hip. It was a malachite saber with a serrated blade to tear the flesh of its prey. Its pommel sported green cat's head with rubies for eyes. Although its form was unfamiliar, the saber called to Hero. It voiced its concern for his health in some psychic wavelength.

"It is relieving to find you in better health, sir Prophecy," Tree spoke. "We've been in dire straits, sir, but we've pulled through."

That thought brought a little smile to Hero. To pull through difficulty was an accomplishment. He tried to recall the hardships they've been through from the fog of his memory... only for nothing to come to mind.

A frown formed as he realized a hole in his memory. He could not recall them going through some hardship. He dived into the lake of his most recent memories only to find them to be seared.

He inspected them, attempted to clear them, but his attempts produced naught. He looked closely and found them not to be seared by the fire of his element. The memories were seared by glare as if struck by a laser; a laser that pierced his mind and anchored strings onto his faculties.

He looked around the fiery cavern of his mind and found many craters where bright strings rooted themselves into his awareness. It blocked and altered his memories.

Hero grimaced. He treasured his memories, especially those that linger. His long-term memories had always been spotty. He knew he had travelled across the Imaginarium, mostly between townships that litter Hillland. He often travelled alone for months, and his unruly element would grind away the precious memories of the folks he had helped, the promises he made, and the people he had wronged. When he arrived at Townston months ago, his memories of the previous town he had visited had already been seared to unidentifiable ash.

"I see that you have found memories filled with shining haze," Tree noted. They placed their hand onto Hero's head. "Your mind has been struck by the enchanting light of Gudmúndr. Your mind had been infiltrated and perverted. That's why you'll find some holes in your memory."

"Oh." A memory of a golden angelic star came to the forefront of Hero's mind. It totally enchanted him and spirited his volition. He could scarcely remember battles against birds, beasts, and scum before, but he didn't think he would fight a monster that attacks the mind.

"Shush now. Her majesty had enthralled you. Her light had made you fight us, those that would have been your allies." Tree then turned his attention to the bedridden Nar. "You beat this woman senseless under her command, but better not fret. It wasn't you; it was her will that made you do it."

Even though the thought that it wasn't his own full volition that he had beaten the heavily injured rodent, it still put a heavy weight in his mind. He could have slashed her, sliced her to bits, diced and minced... Wait, he didn't have his sword.

He turned a questioning gaze at Tree's starry eyes. Tree had it. The question popped into his head; "Where is my sword?"

Tree grinned (Really? I don't think I can see their face flexing from this angle.) and removed the malachite saber from their hip. They presented the sword in front of him. The unfamiliar blade latched psychic hooks into his psyche. Hero winced at the sensation, fearful of mind control.

"Here is your sword, sir Prophecy." The blade shone in the light like a semi-precious gem. Tree held on the dark green hilt while Hero intently looked at it. It felt intimately familiar yet Hero could swear that he had never seen such blade before; through the hooks that latched into his psyche, he could feel the sword begging him to recognize it.

"You don't recognize it? Perhaps a touch would rouse your suspicion."

Roused by their words, Hero hazarded a touch. The moment his hand came in contact with the sword, a dam of sensation had broken. He felt his elemental energy that built up in his core flow into the sword. Tree loosened their grip and let Hero get a solid grip on the blade.

The saber began to morph in his hand. The jade sword discolored until it had turned into a solid bronze. The curved and serrated blade straightened to a straight edge. The cat-head pommel deformed until it turned into a dragon's head. The sword continued to transform until it took a more familiar form: a broadsword.

"I... How?" Hero sputtered. He let the sword set in his hand. The unfamiliar saber had turned into a familiar one in his hands. In bursts of flame, he transformed the broadsword into another familiar form: a dagger.

"It is a heroic blade, sir Prophecy. It is meant to be in the hands of heroes whose interests lie with the Imaginarium," Tree began. "It has deemed you a worthy wielder."

This is my sword. A though rose in his mind with conviction. He knew this blade. It was the blade he had used to cleave monsters that roamed the land. It was the trusty blade that had accompanied him in his travels. This was his claymore.

But an unfamiliar weight had clung onto it. Hero focused on the new weight and found it to be some foreign element. The foreign element stood stalwart against the passionate flames of his own. The element was stationary, preferring to define itself than to occupy the most space. It was the element of the stout stone and living wood. It was the element that defined itself as solid, unchanging, and uncompromising, and it pressed the other elements to adhere to its values. It was the element of EARTH, of things made of solid substance. It was an element that came from not himself, but another: Tree Truth's Blaze, where in their hands, the sword morphed to their elemental affinity.

Hero examined the energies, suddenly fascinated by elements. The EARTHEN element within the sword was a forested mountain in the middle of raging wildfires. They pressed his element, the vehement flames, to adhere to a defined form. The element of FIRE sought everything to become like it. It loathed all that isn't like itself. Nebulous flames reached into the solid fortress of EARTH, wearing the substance bit by bit.

Hero tried to rein in the passionate flames, but FIRE was an element that abhorred control, unconforming to established order. The earthen element pressed the blaze into turning substantial and inert and failing; there was too much FIRE than there was EARTH.

Hero tried to preserve the little bit of EARTH he had for respect to Tree rather than prudence. The FIERY element continued to batter against the EARTHEN element until its edges had began to dissolve into more FIRE. He tried saving the little EARTH left by extracting and returning it to Tree, but all things that enter the sword was to remain forever sealed within the steel.

His ears drooped as he found himself failing horribly in preserving the earthen element within the blade. In his hand, the FIERY element continued to be stoked and blazing. The never-ending flood of flames wore the defined wood and stone until it was no more.