Fiction » A Life's Last Gift	1. Darkness
Elly Greene • PG • Published: 6th January 2008 • Updated: 6th January 2008
Darkness enshrouded all that it touched. It entered the man's mind, and held, furiously battling potential memories. Not one spark of light managed to break through the darkness. Not one image of his past. His name was just out of his grasp. He would clutch at it, but before he could remember, it would slip away, as if it was never there. He was unknown. Silence added to the deathly darkness. So silent that all he could hear was his own laboured breathing. But if something shattered the silence, maybe some of the darkness would go away. The man could only wish. The man was here. Where here was, he didn't know. If he knew the name of the place, it wouldn't help him, as he couldn't remember the names of anywhere. This place was just... here. Where he had been before, that would be known as there. The man had more of a desire to know where there was, than to know where here is. Nothing. That's all he could remember. Nothing. He was like a slate, newly wiped clean, all traces of what used to be was wiped away, so nobody could ever read what once was. How long had he been here? He had only woken up recently, in the darkness and silence. Maybe here was there. Maybe this is where he had been his entire life. Away from society, hiding in the shades. Was he a monster? He didn't even know that. Then, the silence shattered. He heard footsteps. As he clearly was still sprawled on the ground, he knew that they weren't his. They were getting louder, approaching him. A tiny spark of light ignited his mind. Hope. Hope that this being who was slowly walking towards him could light up his eyes, and his mind. Pain wracked through his body as the man tried to call out. Not a sound passed his lips. Again, the man tried, and again, the pain echoed throughout his body. But this time, he managed to groan. The owner of the footsteps obviously heard, as their pace quickened, and soon the man thought the owner was standing over him. “Kael?” The owner of the footsteps was male. The man froze. Once again the little glint of light entered his mind. Dare he believe that his name was Kael? “Wh-who... is... K-Kael?” “I see... you have lost you're mind. You are Kael. I am glad that all my fighting was not in vain. You are alive at least, cherish that. We are now even. If you had not helped me all those years ago, you would be dead by now. Now that you're alive, I can go. I'll leave some supplies for you.” Kael... yes, that seemed to fit the man. That was the name that he was trying to grasp... Kael. Kael had so many questions for his savior that he didn't know where to begin. So, he sat there, in silence, as his savior sounded like he was creating a fire. Suddenly, light erupted in Kael's eyes. Finally he could see. Sitting on the opposite side of the fire was a slightly skinny, but muscle-bound young man. His hair was short but wild, as if waiting to be tamed. It was hard to tell the colour of it in the light, but it seemed to be brown. He was donned in black leather armour, trimmed with red. His eyes, oh, his eyes were deadly. One glance looked as if it could kill. Kael didn't know if it was just the light that was doing it, but it seemed as if his eyes were on fire. This was a dangerous man. A warrior too, by the looks of it. He had a quiver full of arrows strapped to his back, and his beautifully crafted wooden bow was in a side pocket of his quiver. There was a dagger strapped to his left forearm, and he had a magnificent sword strapped to his hip. The man noticed that Kael was staring at his blade. “She's a beauty, isn't she?” “What, your sword?” asked Kael, perplexed. “Of course. Her name is Carm. She was forged from the deepest pits of hell, by the dwarfs of legend, before they escaped from the demons. They brought her with them, and she slowly passed down generations, before coming into my hands two years ago. Of course, while Carm is one of the finest blades in the lands, there is one that equals it. Arcon, which the Scholar's say was the first of the enchanted blades. They say it is only ten years old as well. Seems like not all incredible blades have to be ancient. Well, you'd know about Arcon better than anyone.” “Why's that?” The man stopped poking at the fire and stared at Kael. He was trying to figure out if Kael was just pretending to have lost his mind, or if he really had. Finally, he decided just to play along, regardless of if it was the truth of not. “Arcon is the blade that is strapped to your back right now. You are the master of the blade, and have been since its birth, or so they say anyway. The Scholar's do tend to get a lot of facts wrong.” “You mean, I'm a warrior?” Kael asked, the sound of hope ringing in his voice. “Ha! Warrior? You do more than fight in wars, Kael! You are considered a hero among many, but others hate you. Thus is the way of this world that we live in. You are either pure evil, or just somewhat evil.” “You have a very cynical outlook of the world. Did something happen which made you give up your faith in humanity?” “You, yourself told me once that human nature is evil. There is no good and evil, only different shades of evil. There are, however random spurts of goodness in the world, like rips in fabric.” the man was clearly uneasy about this topic, and thus snapped at Kael. Kael decided to change the topic. “You haven't told me your name.” “You haven't asked.” the man replied in a grunt, returning to poking the fire with a stick. “Well, fine sir, what is your name?” “Lok.” Kael managed, with great pain, to sit up. A most appetising smell enticed him. The smell of cooking meat. Kael glanced and saw that Lok was cooking meat on skewers. Kael had no idea where he had produced the meat from, but decided Lok must have put it on the fire whilst Kael was struggling to sit up. Lok noticed the look of great desire in Kael. He was obviously starving. “It'll be ready in about ten minutes. I can see that you're starving, but it'll taste much better once it is actually cooked. In the meantime, why don't you tell me what you actually do remember.” Kael sighed. “I remember waking up in this cave, scared as hell, not knowing what I've done before. I remember it being pitch black, and hearing nothing, except my own breathing. Then I remember hearing footsteps as you approached me, then the light from the fire, and this whole conversation. So I probably remember around half an hour of things.” Lok was silent in awe for a minute, before he spoke. “You don't remember any of your past?” Kael shook his head. “Do you know much about me?” “No, sorry. I didn't know you. All I knew of you was your name, and the fact that you once saved my life. But I did hear a rumour that your father was once a Scholar. That's all I know. I'm sorry I can't help you more.” “You've done more than enough for me already. You saved my life, you gave me a name, and now you're feeding me. I cannot thank you enough.” “As I said before, we are now even.” Kael grabbed a stick and started poking the fire. After a couple of minutes he spoke up. “Do you think the meat is done yet?” “Should be.” Lok grabbed both of the skewers out the fire and gave one to Kael. Both men were silent as they consumed their meat. To Kael, it was heavenly. Hot succulent meat, mixing with juices from his mouth. So tender it almost melted in his mouth. To Lok, it was just another meal. After Lok had finished, he stood up and put his satchel around his shoulder. “I'd best leave. I wouldn't suggest leaving this cave for a while, Kael. Whoever wanted you dead are probably still after you. Stay around this area for a while, until the heat is off. There is a lake in this cave somewhere, and it does have fish in it, so you should be alright for food. Also, I think there are a couple of trees with fruit on them, just outside of here. Don't linger outside too long though. You're in no condition to fight. Good luck, Kael. I might return, but I may not. Don't wait up.” With a wink, Lok walked away. “Have a safe journey, my friend.” Kael replied.
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