Forgotten Past

I woke up, and remembered nothing. Remembered nothing, and yet was charged with the task of saving an entire race...

Yes, it's kinda like the forgotten and Only Hope mixed in together :) I liked both the stories, so for one of my possible stories for next year's Young Movellist, I decided to write this. Enjoy.

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3. Chapter 3

For a second, I could only stare at the grave, wondering why somebody would want a grave made of skulls. Wondering what sort of person they had been. Who would order for a grave to be built of skulls?

I inched closer, intruiged. There was a gravestone there, and I wanted- for some strange reason- to read it. Nearing the eroding gravestone, I looked closer at the writing etched in stone.

Aoloras, elven champion, it read. Stormbearer slayer of the human armies, tragically killed in battle. May his spirit rest in peace. A shiver ran down my spine as I finished reading. So, there were elves who wished only for violence, wanted a constant, eerie reminder to all who passed that they dominated the warfield, that they were the strongest warrior. That they had killed with glory.

My thoughts shifted to the foreign word, 'Stormbearer.' It sounded so familiar...

And suddenly, I was engulfed in another flashback. 

I remembered the yellowed pages of a book, showing the image of a magnificent giant wolf and a silver ring. This flashback lingered a little longer than the others, and, as I gazed with wonder upon the wolf and the ring, the words, "Sitaryn, you are the Stormbearer," ran through my head. 

Just as I was about to turn to the owner of the deep, grim voice, the world that I had been dragged from dissapeared from my mind, and I was wrenched back into reality. 

I sunk to my knees, unable to believe it. 

Sitaryn... It sounded so familiar, even more so than the word 'Stormbearer'. The owner of the voice seemed to have been talking to someone. Could it have been me? 

Sitaryn did seem to suit me, I had to admit. If it was my name, then whoever had chosen on it for me had made a good decision. But to have a name... After days of lost wandering, having a name seemed like such a luxury that it was almost unreal, like some joyful, made up fantasy that I could actually own something as precious as a name. 

As I turned back to the grave, my thoughts returned again to the word 'Stormbearer'. Who were they? Thinking about it, some voice had told me that I was the Stormbearer with such a grave, serious tone, and it was written on this mighty elf's grave, then it must be some sort of important responsibility, right?

I had a feeling that it was linked with the beautiful wolf on the old pages of the book, and the silver ring that was shown beside it. 

At least I knew my name, I thought, giving the grave one last glance as I walked away.

But from this grave, even more questions had arisen. And the latest, one I knew, for some strange reason, that would be more important than most of the others: Who was the Stormbearer?

 

I reached the end of the marshland before the humans, judging by the absence of recent tracks on the end of the safe path through the marsh. So, while waiting, I decided to go and eat the rabbit I'd shot earlier, and, if I could find a clean spring, wash the blood and marsh-water from me. Glancing back towards the marsh, I saw a faint red glow. Obviously, the humans had lit a fire there, and stopped for the night. Judging from the distance the fire was from me, it looked as though the humans would be traveling for the most of tomorrow morning to reach the safety of the forest again. Taking the rabbit, I set off for a suitable place to eat.

 

When the humans arrived back into the safety of the forest again, I was waiting up in the branches of a tree, my eyes darting about to look for them. Though, due to their slow and bulky mounts, I heard them before I saw them. And when I did finally see them, my heart went cold.

Blood-rhinos. Huge, terrifying creatures with razor-sharp horns and incredible power, and a hide of blood red skin. Each of them bore a rider, adorned with heavy armor and weapons, unlike the lightweight elven armor I myself wore. Though they had slightly better protection, their armor made them slow. And that, luckily for the elves, made them easier to kill. 

As they came closer, I found that my hand had gone instantly to a throwing knife, ready to protect myself should the humans spot me. If they did, I thought with a shudder, my only chance would be to run. Though I may be charged with he grand title 'Stormbearer', I certainly wasn't about to fight this many humans astride blood-rhinos.

As I looked through the ranks of humans with fear in my eyes, I saw one of the blood-rhinos was dragging a tiny cage behind it, attatched to it's saddle with metal chains. Studying the cage closer, I could make out a small figure inside of it. They seemed like nothing more than a boy, I thought with horror! 

Why would the humans capture a mere boy? He looked close to death, from the way he was slumped in the cage, blood matted into his hair and staining his clothes. How could anyone be that cruel? 

Gritting my teeth, I saw that his armor was like mine- lightweight to allow swifter movement. Did that mean that he was an ally of the elves? 

I held my breath. If he was on the side of elves, rather than men, then would he know who I was? I mean, sure, my name was Sitaryn, but I knew nothing else about myself. If he'd been captured by the people who left me in that forest to die, then could he have been my ally? Maybe we were separated, and then they'd left me to die, but captured him... I coked my head, trying to remember. 

Nothing. 

I could remember nothing, like my mind was playing a cruel, horrible game that it wanted me to lose. Who was I? Slinking through the trees after the humans, I watched the boy, just hoping, desperately hoping, that he'd know who I was. Because if he didn't, then who would?

 

After they'd set up camp in a massive forest glade to get some rest for the remainder of the day, I could hear one of them complaining about the rapidly decreasing food supply. Shortly after, their leader consulted a map, and told them that there was a village near-bye. They could raid that, the commander said. Shock passed through me. Did humans turn on humans, bullying the weak liek the cowards they were? And... Did the elves do it too?

"You'll go at dawn," their commander had told them. "Steal all the food we need, and make sure that you bring back lots me. I'll be returning in three days. Oh, and leave some guards here to protect the camp. I've got business elsewhere."

And with that, their leader had rode off, scowling, further into the forest. I considered following him, but decided against it. Even though they were humans, the villagers didn't deserve to be attacked and robbed. I didn't care that I'd be betraying my own race by helping the innocents; I knew that I had to stop the raid. If I didn't, the village would starve over winter. And, judging by my will to help, it wasn't in my nature to just sit by and watch. 

And so, slipping down from my tree, I set off towards the village that the humans intended to raid tomorrow. They'd find a nasty surprise waiting for them when they did. 

And that is how I met Alvyss.

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