Five prophecies. Chapter 1. Rudolph the Lucky (1)

The sea was merciless to the ship.

The storm came literally out of the blue, as if it was summoned from nowhere.

The captain and his crew tried to overcome the raging element all night long, but Aymira, the lady of the salty waters, had a much worse temper – having played with the ship for her enjoyment like a child would with their ball, she cast it away on a rocky shore, as if the child got bored with the plaything. She threw it away with yet another wave, shattering the ship on the rocks and scattering the crew and the passengers all along the shore. Alas, as I got to learn later, I was the only one to survive. Was it mere luck or was it by mercy of the the lady of the seas and storm, I will likely never know – as well as I do not really know how I managed to survive, or, to put it better, I do not really remember. I did not actually remember anything – and first I thought, I did not remember the unfortunate trip only.

All that was in my head when I came to was a name.

Rudolph.

Was it my name? Or was it someone’s else? Could that be the name of the ship? No, that was definitely a person’s name. All my life flashed before my eyes in that storm and left along with the capricious lady of the seas, and all I got left was this half-strange “Rudolph”.

But what did the sea take from me to leave me with my life? I tried to remember anything from my past – to no avail, except maybe some childhood memories, like the first fire-starting spell I managed to do right or the first missed strike with a training sword (there was a sting of pain in my side at that moment). But who I was or where I had been sailing from, or where I had been sailing to… Wait. What.

Where am I?

The shore I ended up on was foreign to me. At least, I could not remember it. Some bushes, some trees in the distance, the sand and the rocks… huh. I had to strain my memory some, but I managed to remember that this bush was called gorse, and that one was briar, the prickly and stingy one bearing some fine red berries in the autumn though, and all the trees had names as well – pine trees, oak trees, willow trees… I knew them all. Well, that was not so bad. The sea and the sky, the earth and the names of things stayed with me – but that was all.

My hand rang from the desperate and vain attempts to remember. The suffocating thirst and the pain in my side chimed in. It looked like I did break a rib, after all. It tasted bitter and salty in my mouth, and as dry as the sand for some reason – although I had clearly had more than my share of soaking in water.

I fell on my back again and tried to catch my breath. My temples pulsed as if it was no blood going through them but marching cavalry.

Although… I certainly did not just imagine the clatter of horse hooves. The cavalry was indeed incoming, nearing the shipwreck – but there were just four of the riders.

One of them got off his steed as soon as the horse stopped and ran up to the nearest body – which happened to be mine.

“Thank Ayulan! There are survivors!” he called in a ringing voice that made my head hurt the more. I reckon I pitied having survived in that moment.

The noisy horseman helped me sit up

“Water,” I croaked with a cough – and was surprised with my own voice that sounded like a voice of a stranger. The rider took a ceramic flask in a coiled leather loom from his belt and handed the flask to me. Water. Fresh water. It seemed to me the greatest creation of the gods back then – regardless of it having tried to kill me the day before…!

The other riders were looking for any more survivors in the shipwreck – in vain.

“What is your name?” my “saviour” asked. I took another gulp, not because of thirst anymore – I was already growing less thirsty – but because I wished to stall as long as possible in a hope to remember my name.

The name.

“Rudolph,” I spoke hoarsely, unable to remember anything else.

“I’d call you Lucky,” the rider smiled unhappily, taking the half-empty flask back from me. “You seem to be the only one. We’ve scouted all along the coast and haven’t found anyone else. Can you ride?”

I shrugged.

“I can try.”

He shook his head in doubt.

“Don’t worry, my stomach is empty after those ship motions yesterday,” I tried to crack a joke.

The rider laughed.

“Joking much? Good. That means you’re alive,” he helped me up and led me to the horse. “My name is Mengor, I am the captain of the guards in D’Lagrena.”

“But where am I?” I did ask, at last, the main question of that morning – apart of “what is my name”, of course, that matter seemed to be resolved more or less. “New Ethen,” Mengor said, getting in the saddle behind me. “The pearl of Marbod Mavcant and the successor of Elphise. Aren’t you from there?”

What was the scariest thing for me back then – I remembered nothing. I did not recognize a single placename, moreover, I had no idea of what places and lands he was talking about. For me those were… just abstract names, like in a book written in purple prose: pretend, imaginary, undescribed even by the writer themselves as of yet. Although, Elphise… that would stirred something vaguely in my soul, but I did not quite manage to get it. But.. another memory had set my mind alight, brightly and forcefully – bright and forceful enough to make my temples hurt again. I remembered the terrible days of year 665 of the Third Dawn. I remembered the news of “the invasion that had begun” being brought to the city I was in back then. Horrible. Two placenames surfaced – Cortuansk and Crimore, Countries, and large and that. But where were those Cortuansk and Crimore? I couldn’t have said to save my life. Having thought about it a bit, I decided not to ask for clarifications from those who found me.

“What’s that with Elphise?” I uttered.

“Well are you kidding me…” someone muttered behind my back. The riders had assembled and we were on out way. “Have you fallen out of the sky or what?”

“I swam out of the sea,” I thought but kept that to myself.

“The lad’s lost his memory, can’t you see?” the second rider interrupted, having caught up with us. “Elphise must’ve burnt, just like Crimore did. Nevemind Crimore, I guess there are no cities left at all. That’s war for you, mate. We reckon Ergesennallo has burnt everything he could to the ashes, because there has been neither travellers nor news from there for a long time. There are a few safe havens left, like the farthest Crimore provinces, but it’s a matter of time till that demon makes it to there as well.”

I pondered on what I’d just heard. Ergesennallo… The name sounded familiar, but I did not ask – again. I did not want to seem clingy or weird. The saddle swayed at that, and it rang in my head even more. I don’t know whether because of trying to remember that name as well – or due to my state in general.

As we were making our way, I was taking in the looks of the guards who found me. They were exactly like me – us, I reckoned belatedly; we spoke the same tongue and looked like kinsmen. All of us had rather elongated features, fair skin and light almond-like eyes, and we wore almost the same clothes – save the armor. On top of that, Mengor’s hair was like mine – black and straight. This must have been why they asked me whether I was their compatriot. I cheered up a bit – maybe I was going to somewhere I had considered close to home, if not home itself?

I asked myself that, and heard no answer.