AN: I am always thankfull when someone points out mistakes in my grammar, but please note that i write in british english before you point out mistakes.
ANN: rewrote some parts and fixed some punctuation errors
Chapter 1 Prologue
It was a sunny morning and the people of the village Orsten were just about to begin their everyday work, when not far from the villages border in a lush forest a young boy began to awake. He is of an average build and looks as average as any boy from the not so far village. He has brown short hair and a face that doesn't look very memorable, even slightly plain, but he isn't ugly either. He slowly awoke from his slumber.
As he opened his eyes he steered in fright. Something had scared him. If someone had the ability to look in his mind he would notice his panic that arose from the sheer lack of anything in his memories. His mind was literally a blank slate. Slowly his thoughts gained structure. They formed words. The chaos calmed and with it his mind.
He recognised his surroundings as a forest. What was indescribable before now took form in words. He shifted away from the tree at which he had leaned while sleeping. He slowly arose to his feet at first he was unsteady, but quickly he became more steady. Unbeknownst to him he stumbled deeper into the forest, away from the safe village. He lacked direction and goal. He simply desired to move.
After two hours of walking and multiple encounters with his own tracks he sat down to sleep. But he couldn't get comfortable. Something seemed to constantly poke him in the back. As he turned around he couldn't find the perpetrator and so he tried to reach to his back. There he finds a small satchel. To his delight it was filled with food, a canteen of water, and a small transparent blue stone.
After he ate till his stomach couldn't take any more he rested his back against the tree and begun to play with the curious stone.
As he inspected the stone closer his gaze seemed to be sucked inside of it and his mind drifted away.
As he awoke again he was disoriented. He found himself in a greenish translucent tube filled with smoke. The really strange thing about this 'smoke' was the fact that it didn't hinder his sight at all and that it was coloured in every shade one could imagine. Theses colours intermixed and flowed freely in the tube although a general direction of flow was distinguishable. Suddenly his mind was filled with memories, which weren't not own, and things begun to get in motion. It was like watching a movie from the view of the protagonist.
This memories originate from a man called Oliver. As he awoke he too was utterly confused. As he wanted to see more of his surroundings he tried to shift his gaze. He learned a lot more than just some details about what surrounds him though. He noticed that he couldn't shift his gaze as he used to do and the cause of this change. It was the lack of a normal human body. It took him quit some time to regain his composure after this shocking revelation. He came up with a lot of possible reasons for his state, but they got absurder as he went on.
After he had calmed down he examined his new body. He saw or rather felt that he too is a coloured cloud of mist or smoke. And like the others he moved towards one end of the tube. That is if this tube has an end at all.
This sense of sight was unlike anything he ever felt before. He didn't have any organelles which provided this function, or at least he couldn't find them when he examined himself. Which he could thanks to the fact that his 'sight' was detached from his actual body. It truly is incomprehensible. His playing around with the 'sight' was rudely interrupted by a new feeling.
This feeling was comparable to pain, but it existed at a much more existential layer. He felt himself slowly dissolving as he was pressed against the other souls. They crushed down each other. Also the speed of the stream slowly increased the farther he flowed with it. He desperately tried to move his mist body against the stream to get into the calmer area again. Yet he noticed that he wasn't strong enough and his strength also began to fade as he got smaller and smaller. Desperately he tried to cling to the parts he already lost and as he did he absorbed them. He felt his strength replenish and as such reached for as much soul mist as he could. He slowly grew bigger and finally he came to a halt.
After he fed some more on the soul mist he was able to get back to the calmer areas. Now that he was out of danger he thought about what happened. He came to the conclusion that the clouds around him could be souls. The existential danger he felt before further had deepened this believe. He further thought in this direction and thus identified his surroundings as a sort of afterlife. Strangely he couldn't remember that he had died. The last thing Oliver remembered was that he was on his way home.
He tried to communicate with the other souls, but he never got any form of response from the souls he touched. He only robbed them of some of their soul mist. It seemed like the other souls weren't conscious. They just drifted into their inevitable doom. As such he quickly gave up this endeavour. He once again inspected himself to find whether anything about him was different. Indeed, there was one difference. Something he hadn't noticed before. Inside of him there exists something like a compass and it pointed against the stream. Since he deemed this direction save he followed the only clue he had found.
It took aeons to reach his destination. At least it felt like that to him. Now he was in front of a small opening in the wall of this seemingly endless tube. Strangely the other souls didn't interact with it at all. There was even a soul that travelled along the flow while clinging to the wall of the tube, which glided right about the hole as if it wasn't actually there. Slowly Oliver moved towards this never before seen curios entity. All he could see, when he looked into the hole was a pitch black corridor and at its end a light that seemed to call him. Without hesitation he followed this call. As he entered this new corridor, he felt like a fish on a hook. He was pulled through this space and quickly neared the blinding light, as he entered it his conscious faded.
In a forest in a faraway place, near the village Orsten, a young man awoke from his trance. The memories he had seen were strange. Even the parts of memories about Oliver's life were strange to him. There were thoughts about cars, electricity, and other things that did not seem like things from this world. For example the clothes the young man currently wore could only be described as medieval if he compared them to the ones Oliver knew.
The boy wondered if he could use the things he had learned of. He tried to imitate the feeling of the soul sense Oliver had witnessed. And he succeeded . A wonderful feeling filled his mind as he took in his surroundings in this new way. The forest felt so alive. He could feel the ants beneath him, the birds above him, and even the plants all around him. As he expanded his sense to feel even more in sync with nature the pleasurable feeling quickly subsided and fear took over. He had found something. Something that scared him. He only had touched it with his soul sense for a short time, but he had felt a lot of murderous intent from it. It had felt like a wild beast that had only been born to murder everything it encountered.
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In fear he fled away from it. After two hours of brisk walking he finally left the forest and found himself in a meadow that bordered to a field. In the distance he saw some people working the field. He continued his march and walked towards them.
As he walked through the meadow he enjoyed the warm sun light and the gentle breeze. It was a beautiful day and only a handful of clouds could be seen in the distance. The air was filled with the scent of flowers and the sound of busy insects. Half in trance he continued his way until he was awoken from it through the shouts of people that apparently noticed his approach.
“Hey! Where are you coming from? Who are you?” he heard the oldest looking person in the group shout. It was a woman with grey hair, a wrinkled face, and a hunched back, who had shouted. She too, like everyone at the field, wore old fashioned clothes. The colours of her simple cut dress was of a light brown and even the embroideries at the borders of the textile lacked bright or eye catching colours.
At this sudden questions the boy was rather dumbfounded. He understood the questions, but how should he answer them? “I come from there.” he said while pointing towards the forest.
“And I guess you don't have a name.” The old woman said in a kinder tone than before. “It has been ages since the last worldborn has appeared near our village.” “Worldborn?” the boy asked. “Yes. That's how we name those that appear randomly in this world. They have become increasingly rare. But they still exist even today. And like the word implies they seemingly are born from this very world. They just jump into existence in uncivilised regions. They always appear with a bit of equipment and without any memories except the ones needed to survive.” She explained while she and everyone else resume their work. With a nod towards a heap of tools she signaled the boy to partake in it. As he worked next to her and overturned the earth with a primitive hoe, she continued to speak. “As far as we know this world was first colonized by the worldborn. In fact everyone living here has ancestors that were worldborn. Sadly a lot of people, especially in the cities, have forgotten their roots and look with disdain upon the 'foreigners'” As we finished with our rows she said “If you want you can stay with us in Orsten for now. We certainly could need more young people! Most of ours flee to the cities as soon as they are allowed to decide for themselves. I am sure someone will take you in and show you the ropes.”
“I will gladly accept this. Oh before I forget it how are you called?” the boy said. “Oh! Forgetful old me! I am Ema” she said rather amused about her small blunder. “We should also consider a name for you.” As they continued to work he was introduced to the other villagers and together they discussed several names for him.
When the sun began to set they finished their work and came to a conclusion. Henceforth he will be called Marcel. After they gathered their tools they walked towards the village, which Marcel only saw as a group of buildings in the distance until now. It gave off a rustic vibe and its buildings were build from wood and clay and with roofs made of reed. The village is located in a valley next to a lake, which it encompasses to one third. The houses aren't huddled together like those Marcel saw in Oliver's memories, instead they are surrounded by gardens and some are rather far away from the next building.
As they entered the village they were greeted by playing kids, which accompany them in their playful half jumping motions, which only children are capable of. Most of them inquired about the stranger, which came back with the adults. But Ema just told them that they will learn about him at the dinner table from their parents.
The group walks towards the centre of the village. As they reached the plaza they were greeted by what seemed to be all adults of the village. Ema climbed atop the podium in the middle and begun to speak to the villagers. Marcel learned, that Ema is the spokeswoman of this village and that this meeting is a daily practice. Everyone is free to go on top of the podium and speak about the occurrences in the village. Today's topic is of course Marcel.
The fact that he would join the community was quickly accepted, but since he doesn't look older than 12 and most probably doesn't know any profession it took almost an hour until it was decided who would take him in.
His new foster father is a man named Tom. He is in his fifties and lost his wife and his first child 5 years ago. Neither of the two survived the birth. He is a tool smith, a profession one can only start to learn once one is a bit older, hence Marcel won't be too far behind the other children his age in his apprenticeship.
Tired he followed Tom to his new home. “The next days I will truly learn to know my new father and not only hear the hushed summaries from some random guy in the audience.” he thought. Tom didn't talk much while they walked, only when they were in front of his house did he talk. “Welcome to your new home Marcel.” He said, while standing with open arms in front of his house. This house was different from all the other houses Marcel had seen in the village. It was built from stone and had a shingle roof. Also it had a big chimney and a waterwheel on its backside.
Marcel followed Tom through the small garden to the front door and saw yet another difference. The door had a lock. Tom took out the key from within his pouch and opened it. They enter the house and Marcel looked around the small dim entry room. Meanwhile Tom had entered an adjacent room and when he returned he held a lit oil lamp. Together they prepared a room for Marcel and ate a meal. Only a few words were exchanged in this time, as both seemed to prefer the silence.
In the solitude of his room Marcel took out the crystal and began to study it and its contents. Slowly he sunk his mind into it, treading on a fine line between consciousness and unconsciousness. As he did, he noticed that there are gaps in the memories. A lot of details are missing or unclear, although the important informations seemed to still exist. They seemed to have redundant copies.
Carefully he examined the memories in the crystal. He witnessed how Oliver awoke in his old body, which was in a coma, how he struggled through the rehab and how he started a new life. Oliver had experienced a lot of different things and all his knowledge was saved in this crystal. Forging, tailoring, leather- and woodworking, he had worked in all these crafts. But he also had learned more refined things. Physics, mathematics, medicine, whenever something caught his interest he sought to thoroughly understand it. And his stronger soul helped him in all his endeavours, he had discovered how to manipulate his own body and even the world around him, although he was harshly limited in the amount of energy he could control.
But many parts seemed to be missing. At one point the records about his daily stopped and only the knowledge about techniques, science, and crafting remained. Mentally exhausted he stored away the crystal and went to bed.