The city sped towards him, the dark buildings and great clouds of smoke blurring and stretching as he was pulled inside. As soon as the uncomfortable experience began, it ended. The world returned to it's normal proportions, and he found himself stading on a think, stone bride, suspended between to of the monolithic towers. Shining Obsidian stone glinted whatever little right there was to be had, reflecting a dull shadow of the world in which it dwelled. He could smell flames as he lay flat on his back, dazed with blood obscuring the vision in his right eye. Above him stood an imposing figure, dressed in black armor, vertically holding a cruel, jagged blade inches away from his chest. The black armor was slick with blood, and the figures breathes were deep and ragged, misting infront of his dark, shrouded face.

He felt wounds of his own, deep cuts and gashes marring his body, thankfully he was too weak to see them.

 

"Goodbye... Eifah." The sword slid down into his chest, piercing his heart and he felt agony like which he had never experienced. Someone not in his field of vision screamed..

 

   He cried out as he awoke again, breathing quickly from the remnants of panic that his illusory death had induced. Reflexively he felt his chest, and there were no fatal stab wounds to be found. He sighed and fell back down onto his pillow. The light from the diamon shaped window was dim, but he estimated it was sometime before down that he had just awoke. The pain in his body had lessened, and he managed to push himself up and see outside for the first time since he had woken up in this mysterious place; and what he saw awed him. Wherever he was must have been situated on a large hill, for he had a view over a great forest. Thick boughs of green leaves and massive thick trunks in every direction. When he looked up, he could see that the stars were still shining brightly despite the ever lightening twilight. As in his dream, he saw the moon far in the distance, sitting overtop of what he thought was an ocean; the only reason he could barely see it now was the considerable elevation of wherever it was he occupied. He never  really appreciated how incredible it truly was until the sun began climbing past the horizon. At first the rays of sunlight only touched the tips of the trees, but over a small time the light of dawn illuminated everything. The very leaves on the boughs seemed lumiscent, glowing in response to the sunlight. It was like nothing he had ever seen... not that he could recall anything to compare it to, except for the marvelous and horrific cities he had seen in his dreams.

 

   He was torn away from his reverie and fixation on the new world he had just been introduced to as he heard footsteps creeking on the wooden stairs behind his cot. With effort he managed to sit up, but only caused himself to grunt in pain when he tried to twist around.

 

"Don't exert yourself. You look much better than yesterday but you still hurt yourself pretty badly." said Aldwyn as he came into view, hlding another tray and setting it down on the bed.

 

The proceedings were much like the day before, only this time, thankfully, he fed himself inbetween questions which were designed to guage the abation of his temporary memory loss. He ate his bowl of soup and an apple, giving an endless string of no's and I don't knows to the questions put to him. By the end he put the tray onto a box near the bed.

 

Aldwyn wiped his mouth from the food he had been eating meanwhile.

 

"How are you feeling today?" he asked, gathering up both trays and getting up from the small wooden chair that still sat beside the cot.

 

"I'm feeling better, at least now I can move somewhat and can feed myself, and my body no longer hurts everywhere as if I rolled off a cliff" he replied, recalling the unpleasant memoru of the day before when he had been spoon-fed by an old man he had only just met, with no memory.

 

"Well thats good, " said Aldwyn, smiling, "I'll you'll be back to your duties and chores within the week then I hope. I'm getting old and carrying you up all those flights of stairs was trying! I'll be back upstairs in a while to help jog your memory after I've returned these to the kitchen.." and with that he turned around and slowly made his way to the stair case.

 

"Wait! Is my name Eifah?" he asked quickly, since Aldwyn had neglected to ask that question.

 

As soon as the name left his lips he saw the old man stiffen and stop moving, and he ramained there for a minute or so.

 

"Yes.. it is. Your memory is coming back to you?" he said slowly, turning and looking him straight in the eyes.

 

"No... someone called me it in a dream... and thats all I remember..."

 

Aldwyn nodded, the steely gaze dropping and his body visibly relaxing, then he gave what looked like a relieved smile and continued back down the staircase.

Once again this is just quick writing, I'm gonna come back later and revise/lengthen it.

 

Nate dreamt of many things. The day before... though he didn't know whether that was actually the day before or not. Fatal stab wounds didn't fully heal overnight. He saw a replay of the knife slipping into him, though the PCP in his system had prevented him from crying out, but as well it must have been laced with something else. He had felt weak, though not nearly as weak as when he had awoken. He remembered the man checking his pockets, taking the cash out of his wallet and placing it back, then wiping the handle of the knife with a handkerchief as it protruded from the youths chest. It was the same person who had sold him the drugs. The rest of that night was hazy and didn't resurface in the dream.

 

   The rest of his life seemed even hazier. When he tried, Nate couldn't recall his childhood. Rather than familiar reminisces,  he dreamt of the forest in which he had awoken. He saw a figure walking through the unpathed woods, Nate saw through his eyes as whoever it was looked out over fields of tall grass, over an ocean..  
He dreamt of the tower, of shelves lined with books, some with gleaming, hard leather covers, others falling apart and eaten by mould. It was filled with a many strange things... clay blocks and sculptures, an easel surrounded by different paints and ingredients for mixing, paintings, a large map, a forge, a kiln, and hundreds of miscellaneous tools. The vision from the dream was too quick to quite take in all of it's aspects, but it was overwhelming to see the instruments of almost every art imaginable crammed into one place.

 

   The scene changed, and he now stared at a tombstone. It was exquisitely carved, unmarked nor worn by age; it was perfectly smooth stone. The writing on it was unfamiliar, carved in deeply and accentuated by the shadows cast by the sun approaching it's zenith. The grave itself was located on a grassy hill, the individual blades dully reflecting the sunlight and appearing luminescent. The mound infront of the tombstone was now covered in the same thick grass which surrounded it. It wasn't until he looked out over the light blue ocean that he realized it was the same scene he had viewed earlier in his dream, only without the presence of the grave..
The light salty breeze from the ocean changed direction, picking up force and whistling in Nate's ears, carrying a chill combination of notes that almost echoed throught the air as words...

 

 

   His eyes opened, and thankfully this time it wasn't followed by intense pain. Mobility was still severely limited however, as Nate discovered when he tried sitting up. The most he could accomplish was lifting his head. The aching in his body had dulled a little at least. He let his head fall back down onto the pillow. He had hoped he would wake up to find it had all been a strange dream. However this wasn't his bed, and he was sure this was not his room. The walls were made of thick, carved stone bricks, and paintings covered all the walls, except for where there were diamond shaped windows. The bed itself which Nate lay in was a small, narrow cot, his feet nearly going over the end. It was comfy however, so it mattered little to him.

 

   Confusion still clouded his thoughts, everything from... whenever he lay in the park, to when he had ended up in this strange place made absolutely no sense. Nate couldn't draw any logical answers, the answers he sought would probably have to be obtained from the old man. A small tray had been laid out beside the cot, ontop of a wooden crate. An apple and what smelled like broth sat on it, but Nate could still barely lift his arms. Being helpless truly was aggrivating beyond reason, but his ears pricked when he heard footsteps coming ascending a wooden staircase across the large, circular room.

 

"Good morning," said the old man as he topped the stairs, turning at the end of the rail and continuing towards Nate, "what is my name?"

 

Nate stared blankly at the old man.

 

"You haven't told me your name yet..?" He replied. The old man shook his head, muttering he pulled up a wooden chair beside Nate's cot.

 

"What is your name?" Asked the old man, sitting down on the chair, beside the tray of food and the cot.

 

"My name is Nate, where..-"

 

"No, it's not. That was the name given to whoever you were after your previous birth. You'll shed him soon enough and you'll remember your name," Said the old man, cutting off Nate before he could finish his sentence, " in time you will remember my name as well, in the meantime however you can call me Tatianus."

 

   He's senile... thought Nate despairingly. The old man continued muttering while he picked up a spoon and the bowl from the tray. He began feeding Nate, asking a question every now and again, each quizzing him on simple topics about his life. After a half hour the bowl was empty, and the old man asked one final question as he got up from the wooden chair.

"Where did you live when you were five years old?"

 

At first Nate was dumbstruck, but after several minutes of trying his hardest to remember, he gave up and shook his head.

 

"I don't know.." To Nate's astonishment the old man smiled for the first time, as if he took memory loss as a positive sign.

 

"You'll come to in time, and when that happens I'll explain everything; but for now rest, and regain your strength. We'll speak again tomorrow."

 

Before Nate could protest Tatianus turned around and walked back to the staircase, his ascent sending achoes of booted feet thumping against wooden planks throughout the tower.

 

Nate let his head fall back down against the pillow. Being spoon fed was himiliating enough, but being helpless while some senile old man tried to substitute Nate'd reality with his ravings was too much. Smoldering underneath the blankets on the cot, he soon felt himself dosing off again. Yawning, he put the bitter thoughts aside. He was still alive, but he still wanted to know where he was an how he would get home.

 

 

He fell asleep.

Sorry if this seems short or unedited, I'm just running out the story in a blog so I can come back later and revise it.

He felt weak. Nate coulddn't move, much less open his eye lids. Was he still in the park? Struggling, he opened his eyes. Pain. The sunlight seared his vision and he quickly shut them again. How long had he been asleep?

   Nate's body ached, and it felt as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. As time went by he became more and more conscious, at first determining that he lay on a soft bed of grass, then realizing he was naked. Starting had only earned him another round of pain, if less intense than the first dose of sunlight. He heard the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and very faintly the distant sounds of water. He tried to call for help, but only a weak croak escaped his throat.

Am I alive? He thought. I'm not in a hospital... yet I'm alive... I'm somewhere outside, yet theres no knife...

Perhaps it was a dream?

   Nate lost track of time as he lay there, thinking and pondering, when he thought he heard footsteps approaching. They were slow moving and soft, but Nate became sure they were the sound of booted feet as they drew closer. Surely whoever it was would get help once s/he found him!

Nate even held his weak, labored breaths in anticipation of rescue. However the footsteps continued towards him without pause. Maybe the killer had returned to finish him off? This thought caused fear the rise up in Nate, his heart painfully beating faster. It wasn't until a booted foot struck Nate in the side of the head and drew forth a pitiful moan that the footsteps halted. He heard a gasp and the rustle of grass and leaves as the stranger must've been kneeling down beside him. A finger checked his pulse..

"What are you doing all the way out here?! You're not supposed to be here," said the old voice angrily, and Nate felt himself get picked up out of the grass. He hadn't been carried since he was 5, and it was an unsettling feeling. The endless string of questions from the man who found him went unanswered and soon ended, probably having deducted that the boy wasn't able to speak, much less open his eyes or move. The level of the ground changed often, and wherever Nate was being taken must've been at a higher elevation than the surrounding area.

Eventually he managed to open his eyes without them being hurt by the sunlight. Opening them a crack, he saw a blue sky dotted with clouds, occassionally obscured by the boughs of oak trees. Not like the ones in the park.. these ones were beautiful. Unwithered, undying, they must have been around fifty feet tall... he couldn't quite place his finger on it, just something seemed strange about them. Even the leaves seemed to glow unnaturally in the sunlight.

Redirecting his gaze he examined the person who had found him. He wore a thick, gray woolen robe.. whoever it was must have been old, due to the thick white beard obscuring their face from that angle, and which prevented Nate from gleening of their other details. Letting his head loll to the side, Nate looked at the path ahead. It was definitely a forest, but it was strange as well. The arrangement of the trees and how they grew seemed unnatural, it was too... perfect. There was nothing unpleasant about it. Through the trees he saw the sun rising.

As time passed he and the old man climbed a steep hill, emerging from the forst onto a wide hilltop. The weariness from the journey finally overtook Nate in his already pitiful state, but before he lapsed into unconsciousness, Nate glimpsed what he thought was a tall, stone tower dominating the hilltop. Wherever he had been taken, he wasn't in the grand national park.