Before anything began—before even the wind dared to pass through the overgrown field—a voice echoed across the void.
"Ellian... wake up."
It was not a whisper. It was not a scream. It was something in between, something that didn't belong to this world. The name was spoken softly, yet it thundered in his skull. Then there was light. Then there was breath. Then there was pain.
Ellian opened his eyes.
The sky above was vast and cloudless, a pale canvas stretching endlessly. He blinked a few times, trying to recall where he was, why his body ached, why his chest felt so hollow. His fingers moved first, brushing against rough earth and tangled grass. He was lying in a field, surrounded by tall weeds and soft petals of blue and white.
The wind brushed past, gentle but indifferent.
He tried to rise but winced. His body was sore. His clothes—if they could still be called that—were torn and stained with dirt and dried blood. A long scarf was wrapped around his neck, frayed at the ends, darkened with grime. It clung to him like it remembered something he didn't.
He sat up, slowly. His head throbbed. His vision blurred for a moment, and in the distance—far beyond the field's reach—he saw a silhouette.
A figure.
Too far to make out, too still to be human.
But when he blinked again, it was gone.
From the edge of the field, voices broke through the quiet.
"...I swear I saw someone move."
"Where? There? No way."
"Look! Over there, by the hill. Someone's sitting up."
Four figures approached, cautious but curious. Teenagers—about his age, maybe younger. Two boys, two girls. They moved with hesitation, their steps deliberate, not wanting to startle him or each other.
One of the boys stepped forward. He had short, ruffled hair and a lean build, his eyes sharp and scanning.
"Hey," he called out, voice firm but not unkind. "Are you... are you okay? What happened to you? Who are you?"
Ellian looked up at them. The words made sense. The language felt familiar. But there was a hollowness where his memory should have been.
He opened his mouth. The answer came on its own.
"I don't know," he said. "I don't remember anything... except..."
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Except what?"
Ellian hesitated. "My name. It's... Ellian."
The boy turned slightly toward the others. They exchanged quick glances, something silent passing between them. Then the same boy looked back at Ellian.
"If you don't remember anything," he asked slowly, "then how do you know the language? How do you know how to speak at all?"
Ellian frowned. He hadn't thought of that. "I... I don't know. It's just... there. Like breathing. I don't think about it."
"That's not how amnesia works," muttered the second boy.
He looked more agitated, eyes narrowed with suspicion. His voice was sharper, more impatient.
"You just happen to forget everything except your name? You can talk, walk, understand us, but you don't remember where you're from or how you got here? That's ridiculous."
"Tamir," one of the girls interrupted him, her tone calm but firm. "He said he doesn't remember. Maybe he hit his head or something. You're not helping."
The second boy—Tamir—grumbled something under his breath.
"I'm just saying it's suspicious."
The girl ignored him and turned to Ellian. She had gentle eyes and chestnut hair tied into a simple braid. Her expression was softer than the others.
"We should help him. At least try."
She knelt beside him, just out of arm's reach, and offered a small smile.
"My name's Astelle. That's Linnea," she added, nodding toward the second girl, who stood quietly nearby with arms crossed. Her silver hair shimmered slightly under the sun.
"And that guy glaring at you is Tamir," Astelle said, giving him a pointed look, "and the other one's Keon. We're all sixteen."
Keon gave a quick nod.
"So..." Astelle continued, tilting her head, "you really don't remember anything else? Where you came from? Family? What you were doing here?"
Ellian looked at each of them, his gaze heavy with confusion and something else—something like guilt. He shook his head slowly.
"No. I... I don't know why I'm here. I don't even know where here is."
For a few seconds, silence lingered. Even the wind seemed to hush.
Tamir crossed his arms. "This doesn't make sense. If he's got memory loss, it should affect everything. Muscle memory, speech, awareness—it all should be gone. But he's clearly functioning fine. Just missing the facts. It's not logical."
"Not everything has to be logical," Astelle replied. "We'll figure it out later. For now, we should take him to the Elder. He'll know what to do."
"You really want to drag a complete stranger into the village?"
"He's not a stray animal, Tamir. He's a person. And he clearly needs help."
As they spoke, Ellian sat quietly, listening. His hands were buried in the grass. The warmth of the sun did nothing to chase away the chill in his bones.
Eventually, Keon spoke. "I agree with Astelle. The Elder will know what to do. It's not like we're taking him to the capital."
Tamir scoffed but didn't argue further.
Astelle turned back to Ellian. "We're going to take you to someone who might be able to help. He's called the Elder. It's a bit of a walk, but it's better than leaving you out here. You okay with that?"
Ellian nodded, though his body trembled slightly as he tried to stand. His legs felt weak beneath him, but Astelle reached out instinctively to support him. He accepted the help.
As they began walking toward the edge of the field, something inside Ellian turned cold.
Not fear. Not confusion.
But something deep. Dormant. Watching.
And far, far away...
A voice whispered again.
"You woke up too early... Ellian."
But no one else heard it.
The group moved in silence at first. The tall grass rustled softly around their legs, brushing against Ellian's tattered clothes as they walked single file along a barely visible trail. The sky above stretched wide and clear, painted with the late afternoon sun, casting a golden hue over the plains. No one spoke for a while. Only the sound of footsteps and the distant calls of birds filled the silence.
Keon, walking just ahead of Ellian, kept glancing back at him, as if trying to find the right moment.
"So…" Keon finally broke the silence. "We were on our way back from Riverfold—another village a bit north of here. Just finished a delivery job for Old Marven."
Ellian looked at him. The name meant nothing, but he nodded slightly.
"That's when we saw you," Keon continued, "just lying there in the middle of the field like a broken scarecrow. Thought you were dead at first."
Tamir snorted from the back. "He looked dead."
"Tamir," Astelle said without looking back, "not helpful."
Keon grinned. "Anyway, we ran over. You were breathing, barely. I poked you with a stick." He gestured dramatically. "Nothing. Astelle told me to stop, of course."
"You poked me with a stick?" Ellian asked, more curious than upset.
Keon gave him a sheepish shrug. "Well, you were mysterious and possibly dangerous. Still are, actually."
"That's why we didn't question you too much," Astelle added, turning her head slightly to speak over her shoulder. "You didn't even know your own name at first. You looked… lost."
"I was lost," Ellian said quietly.
"And yet you understand every word we say," Tamir muttered, arms crossed as he walked. "Still makes no sense."
"Tamir," Linnea said flatly. It was the first word she'd spoken in over an hour.
"I know, I know," Tamir sighed. "Just… saying."
The conversation lulled again, only for Astelle to fill the silence. Her voice had a warmth to it, like she was trying to ease the awkwardness.
"Well," she began, "I guess it's only fair we introduce ourselves properly."
She slowed down so she walked side by side with Ellian. "I already told you my name is Astelle. I like stories. Real ones, made-up ones, doesn't matter. Linnea over there," she pointed to the girl with short dark hair and steady eyes, "is quiet, but she's the one who keeps us alive. Good with herbs, and even better with bandages."
Linnea nodded without expression.
"And Keon's our loudmouth, if you haven't figured that out already," Astelle added with a smile.
Keon puffed out his chest. "Proud of it."
Astelle rolled her eyes. "And Tamir, well—he acts grumpy, but he's smarter than he looks."
"I look smart," Tamir said, deadpan.
Ellian listened without interrupting, watching their faces as they spoke. There was something comforting in their voices, in the normalcy of their bickering.
"I don't remember anything," Ellian said again, more to himself than to them. "But… it feels okay being with you all. Like I'm not completely lost."
Keon glanced at him, his expression softening. "Hey, that's progress, isn't it?"
The sun dipped lower, and the sky shifted into warm orange and purple hues. Astelle looked up.
"We should stop soon," she said. "It'll be dark before we reach the river."
They found a small clearing surrounded by scattered trees and stones. A narrow brook ran nearby, trickling softly over smooth rocks. Keon and Tamir dropped their packs and began gathering firewood. Linnea cleared away dry leaves, while Astelle helped Ellian sit down near a flat stone.
Keon struck flint and steel, sparks catching on the dried grass and kindling. The fire took quickly, crackling to life and casting flickering shadows around them.
From their packs, they pulled out small metal skewers and wrapped bundles of dried meat, flatbread, and root vegetables. Tamir handled the food with surprising care, threading the pieces onto skewers and holding them over the fire. The scent of roasted meat and warm bread filled the air.
Astelle sat next to Ellian, her legs crossed, hands outstretched toward the fire.
"I love this part of the day," she murmured. "Quiet, warm, and just a bit smoky."
Keon flopped down on Ellian's other side, holding his skewer proudly. "Best part of the day is eating. End of story."
The group laughed lightly, the first genuine laughter Ellian had heard since waking. He found himself smiling.
Tamir handed out food, grumbling about portion sizes while Linnea made sure everyone got enough.
They ate slowly, the fire crackling between them. The stars began to peek out overhead, dotting the deepening sky. Ellian chewed silently, watching the flames, until Astelle nudged him.
"Long day, huh?"
He blinked, realizing she was right. He was tired—bone-deep tired, though he hadn't done much. Maybe it was the strain of thinking, of trying to remember things that refused to surface.
"Yeah," he said. "Feels like I've been running in a dream."
Astelle gave a small hum. "Tomorrow, you'll meet the Elder. He'll know what to do. Or at least… he'll pretend to."
Ellian didn't reply. His eyes drifted from the fire to the dark woods around them, then up toward the star-filled sky. A strange image flickered in his mind—just a silhouette, far away, standing against a backdrop of glowing light.
But it vanished before he could make sense of it.
"You okay?" Keon asked beside him.
Ellian turned his head. "Yeah. Just… tired."
"Well, you should sleep," Astelle said, standing and brushing crumbs from her lap. "We move at dawn."
Linnea and Tamir had already laid out their blankets near the fire. Keon tossed one to Ellian.
"Get comfy. You're one of us now, mystery boy."
Ellian unfolded the blanket and lay down between Keon and Astelle. The fire cracked beside him, warm and soothing.
The group slowly settled in. Murmured goodnights floated in the air, and the night grew quiet again.
Ellian stared at the stars for a long time. The wind whispered through the grass. He listened. Waited. Hoped something would come to him—anything.
But sleep found him first.
---
Dawn.
Keon's voice was the first thing Ellian heard.
"Up, up. We've got a long walk ahead."
Ellian groaned softly and pushed himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The fire had burned low to embers. Linnea and Tamir were already packing their things.
"Come on," Keon said, tossing him a waterskin. "Wash up. River's right there."
Ellian followed him to the brook, where the water was cold and clear. He splashed his face and hands, wincing at the chill. It helped chase away the last fog of sleep.
By the time they returned to camp, Astelle had rolled up Ellian's blanket and added it to her pack.
"Let's go," she said brightly. "Village isn't far now."
They began to walk again—five figures against the rising sun, moving steadily through the vast and empty plains.
And though Ellian's memories remained lost, there was something about this path, these people, and this quiet journey that felt… almost right.
Almost.