Zarayne 1

This is a retelling of a text RPG that I do with Mariah Jane. It's rusty and needs lots of polish. Critiques are most welcome.

I wish it was simple case of amnesia.  It’s not often you run across a man who can’t remember his own name.  But, it’s not just me who forgot my name.  It seems even the people I knew before I could remember anything don’t know it.  They seem to know who I am, but it’s only a faint recollection, a mere sense of déjà vu.  It’s as if my name was actually stolen, and with it everything that was me: my past, my abilities, my relationships.  All of it, gone.  I wish I knew what it was that I was missing.

It is for that reason that I’ve travelled the world these last seven years.  Being alone in the world, it seemed the best thing to do.  Travel the world, see all that there is to see, and maybe find the answers to all the questions I wish I knew I remembered.  But somehow I know there are questions, and they probably don’t have very pretty answers.  My body remembered some things.  It was trained to swing a sword.  It was trained well enough to let me hire myself out as a mercenary where needed.

Many of my early jobs brought me to ancient ruins of civilizations past.  I grew a quick love for such ancient history and elected to brave the dangers these ruins presented in return for education.  Not many people could be called both a scholar and a mercenary, so it’s earned me a small bit of fame in some circles.  My services are usually highly coveted among academics, and they are usually willing to pay a fair amount of coin as well as keep me supplied.  It’s a beneficial relationship, really.  They get to further their research without getting their hands dirty, I get to work with ancient technologies and gain some knowledge of my own usually without having to go hungry.  It’s win-win for us all.

Lately, though, there has been a lull in work prospects.  My usual contacts are completely filled up with work and can’t take on anything more I could possibly gather.  “Black,” as they call me, has done too well of a job for them.  With a need to find more employers, I took my leave of my usual contacts and traveled to parts of the world I had not set foot on very often.  Surely there were other scholars in the world looking for artifacts, writings, and relics of civilizations past to sate their curiosities.

And that’s what brings us to now.  I was near the port city of Stonewright, where I had set foot once around six years ago.  Not much that I remembered about the place, but I knew there was a forest nearby that begged exploration.  Perhaps I could find someone willing to pay for my services.  The place looked big enough, in any case.  I had been on the road for nearly a month travelling to the west coast.  Aside from the occasional bandit, the travel has been fairly peaceful. The kingdom has really been on the ball with keeping the peace.  It’d be nice if this could last, but my studies in history tell me another story.  I just hope not in my lifetime.  Nobody wants to live through any kind of troubling times.

The road passed by a cliff overlooking the ocean.  It’s been months since I had seen the ocean.  It’s been years since I had seen this particular ocean.  I walked off of the worn, well-traveled path to take a look at the breath-taking scene.  A path from the road to the cliff side suggested that I was among many who held the same idea, and it was not without good reason.  The view captured everything from the city to the north to the deep blue horizon west and south.  There were a few islands a short ways out to sea where a couple of well-off nobles kept homes.  Shrubs and trees could be seen for miles out in land.  Stonewright’s lighthouse stood majestically over the city, seeming to ward off intruders from both land and water.

Almost by instinct, I drew in a deep breath of the salty air and savored its aroma.  In that moment, I felt so alive, so free.  I welcomed the next chance to travel by ship.  In fact, I really hope that my next job does take me overseas.  I’ve missed it so.

Just then, a bright glint of light from the shore below caught my eye.  I took out a spyglass from my pack to get a closer look.  It was probably a coin someone carelessly dropped, but who knew?  I could be a piece of an ancient ship, or buried treasure that the ocean was finally able to uncover.  Although those prospects were unlikely, stranger things have happened, and I would be remiss to pass up any opportunity to study something new.

The spyglass revealed not a coin, or an old piece of metal.  It appeared to be some kind of strange treasure.  That has got to be the biggest wad of golden thread I have ever seen.  The thread gleamed a bright, yellowish color with streaks of reds and browns.  I guess it was gold, but perhaps it was different types of precious metals?  Who would be foolish enough to leave all that lying around?  That has got to be worth thousands!  I suppose it’s my lucky day.

For a tangled up mess of metallic thread, it sure does flow pretty well in the water.  I should probably collect it before it drifts back into the sea with the tide.  I began to put away my spyglass when something else about the mass caught my eye.  I looked through the spyglass again and tried to get a closer look at the thread as it wavered around in the water.  I wasn’t sure I saw that right, but is that…skin?  I squinted my eyes a bit to focus a little more.  Sure enough, just under the thread appeared to be really pale skin.  Then I began to make out what appears to be a woman’s body.

Huh.  I find the craziest stuff.

I marveled at the sight for a few moments before it finally dawned on me: that wasn’t metallic thread.  That was hair.  With a woman attached to that hair.  And she’s lying motionless in the water. I cursed myself for a fool, and then I rushed towards a path down the cliff to the shore below.  Having navigated ruins at breakneck speeds to avoid some deadly traps, it was second nature for me to run down the cliff at a near sprint. Life was on the line here.

As I reached the shore, I threw off all my loose clothes and my pack and ran into the water to pull the woman out.  As I made the first step into the water, the ocean suddenly swelled and actually pushed the woman towards me, as if it approved of my actions and wanted to lend me a hand.

The woman floated into my arms, and I carried her to the dry sand.  She was incredibly light.  I felt like I could break her frail body using only my fingers, but there also seemed to be a bit of resolve within her that would make that task a bit difficult.  Her hair was longer than anything I had ever seen.  It covered me like a thick, shining coat.  I gasped as I laid her down on the sand.  I got my first glimpse of her face; she was clearly the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.  With as many as I’ve seen, that’s saying something.  Her skin was pale as moonlight, the curves on her face flowed smoothly like water, and even her hair seemed to carry a hint of fire.  There was definitely something very special about her.

I shook my head as I realized I had been doing a lot of gawking and not a lot of life saving.  I immediately checked her for vital signs.  Her pulse was faint, but it seemed to be gaining some strength.  Amazingly enough, she drew shallow breaths.  For someone who was lying face-down in the water for who knows how long, this was fairly amazing.  She was alive.  It didn’t appear that I needed to resuscitate her.  I checked her for other injuries.  The dress she wore was smooth as silk and shimmered like the ocean itself.  There were no signs of blood, no signs of injury.  Not even a little bruise.  How did such a beautiful woman end up drowning outside of town like this?

I couldn’t leave her like this.  She needed to be in a warm bed and examined by a doctor.  I began to gather her into my arms again.  At that point, I was greeted by a pair of deep sapphire eyes.  She had awakened.  Again, I was entranced as I drank in those blue eyes as she tried to comprehend just what the hell was going on.  She freed herself from me and backed away, looking around and breathing like a panicked animal.

“Who are you?  Where am I?” she demanded.  Her voice rushed over me with the energy and serenity of a spring breeze.  To be honest, this was getting to be a little ridiculous. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.  Damn, it hurt.  Must not be.

Damn it!  That hurt! I guess I don’t know my own strength.

She looked at me with confusion.  Surely I must have looked like an idiot just now.  “Who are you?  Where are we? Tell me!” she demanded further.  The panic in her was visibly rising.  She was checking herself, probably for injuries. She seemed awfully concerned about her left hand.  I had best say something to calm her down so I can figure out just what the hell was going on myself.

“Uh, hi.  We’re…outside Stonewright.  It’s the city you can see a few miles off. Behind you, that is.  This is the Tranquil Seas,” I wave my hand at the ocean, “and this beach is where I found you.” I motion at the tracks in the sand and where I laid her on the ground.  “You were drowning.  Or, I thought you were drowning.  You, well, you were face down.  In the water.  But you didn’t drown.  Yeah.” I scratched the back of my head. Gods, could I possibly be any more awkward?

She stared at me for a moment before bursting out in a sweet, melodic laughter.  She skipped to the water, looking at it as if she were about to depart with the dearest of friends.  “Drown? In the ocean? Why would I drown?”  She looked at me intensely. “The ocean wouldn’t hurt me.” Her voice drifted with the sea breeze. Her hair billowed slightly with its gentle push.

She took another loving gaze at the ocean. “I’m sorry.  Who are you?”

“I’m just a travelling swordsman,” I replied. “Look, you were in the water for a while, and it looked like you were looking at your hand like it was hurt or something.  I would be happy to escort you to the city so you can see a doctor or at least find a warm bed to sleep in.” While I sneakily got a doctor, of course.

She laughed and playfully splashed some water at me.  “I’m not injured! Not that I can tell, anyway.  Also, did not ask what you did, I asked for your name.  You do have one, don’t you?  Most humans have one.”

She walked towards me and away from the water.  That dress of hers that looked like water?  Well, as she left the water and back on dry sand, it fell off in a torrent of water.  The dress didn’t look like water, it was water.  The most beautiful woman ever to exist stood naked before me.  It didn’t appear that she realized this or even really cared.

I set my face squarely into my palm.  Good things can’t come from this.

 

Author's Note

This is the first part of a larger work. This is not meant to be a standalone story.

Reviews

[Mariah Jane]

HAHAHAHAhAHAHAHA! I love this... I really do. You must keep going. Shall I write from her perspective now? That could be fantastic :) You have done a very good Job.... i want to read the rest of our creativity. You must hurry and not leave my character standing around naked for all to see! :) How embarrassed she would feel if she knew you did that to her... lol