Private Tales Forgotten but Not Broken

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Thren

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The Wilds - Unknown

He could feel the blood flowing from his wound.

There wasn't any pain, no, that had faded hours ago before the barn door had even fallen closed. His mind was all over the place, warped and refusing to grasp onto even a hint of reality. Everything seemed to shifting, moving, fleeting beyond anything he could put into words.

His whole body was numb.

What was he doing here? What had been done? He knew darkness had crept into his mind, self doubt, hatred. Every raw emotion that fell on the darker side of the spectrum lingered within him. Yet as he peered through the darkness of his own vision he could hardly place why.

That alone made him furious.

How could he forget? How could he lose something so important. It was like a piece of himself had washed away, a part that he could not remember.

Who was he even?

What was his name?

A frown touched his face as he tried to move, his fingers denting the sand below in desperation. What was going on? Why was he here? And why did he feel nothing but utter rage?

The questions drifted through his mind as he lost consciousness.
 
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The scent of blood was heavy in the air, though not so thick as to indicate a fresh kill. An excited chitter cut through the quiet cove as one of the two raptors lifted his nose to the air, catching the scent in the gentle breeze.

Both beasts were of considerable size, at their full height their shoulders were nearly a foot taller than the redheaded woman that stood between them.

Her thick locks were partially pulled back in a series of braided twists with feathers and bone interwoven into the plaits. Golden brown eyes glanced up from the adjustment she was making to the leather harness that was around the dinosaur's head and muzzle.

"Oh shush, Sjorn." She said, playfully scolding the creature as she pulled herself back up into the saddle.

Sjorn, the larger of the two raptors, was a beautiful iridescent blue, the color of his scales shifting in the sunlight that filtered through the trees. Dark feathers adorned his head and the end of his tail. His brother Aldak, on the other hand, was a rich emerald green with a crimson crest of feathers atop his head.

Once she was situated in the saddle, Vesper glanced along the shore line and then clicked her tongue. There didn't seem to be any large predators that had picked up on the scent yet, but no doubt something would soon.


It took longer than she would have liked to track down the source of the scent, and she was briefly disappointed by what they found -- a human male bleeding out in the sand.

Aldak started to lunge forward, but Vesper stopped him short with a sharp whistle. "No! We are not going to eat him, you silly bird." She called out in her thick accent, sliding out of the saddle.

Giggling, she scratched the under side of the raptor's jaw, as she was too short to pay the top of his head. "You already had your breakfast."

She crouched down by Thren's head, tilting her own curiously to the side. It wasn't often that she saw outsiders wandering this far in the Wilds. The last person she'd seen had been nearly two years ago -- and he'd attacked her. Sjorn had torn the man's throat out shortly after that.

Carefully, she nudged the unconscious man with a stick. "Hullo? Are you not alive?" Her common was not as good as the elder's had been, but it was certainly better than most of her kind.

When he didn't immediately respond, she bent over him and flipped him onto his back. The deep wound in his chest and side became readily apparent. "Hmm... Well, you will not be for long, if you are alive that is." She mused.

Leaning over him, she nearly pressed the side of her face to his lips as she watched his chest for signs of movement and to feel his breath against her cheek.

"Oh! Not corpse then!" She exclaimed excitedly and sat up.

Aldak and Sjorn gave barking chirps at her reaction, eyeing the unconscious man with golden eyes.

"We do not eat not corpses!" She shooed them off with an amused scowl, while she gathered the man's arm over her shoulders. He was heavy, but Vesper was remarkably strong and lifted his body off the sandy shore.

"Aldak, come here! We going to camp!" She said in exasperation.

The green raptor reluctantly stepped forward and lowered himself just enough so that Vesper could lay the barbarian across his back.

She lightly pat Thren's cheek and smiled, as if he could see her. "Do not worry, not corpse. I am decent healer."
 
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Was he seeing things?

It was hard to tell. Hard to say anything at all. His vision was stills swimming and it felt as though his body was floating. He'd lost enough blood to be near to death, and the sensation was so clawing he would have said he was there already.

Why bother saving a man that had failed so much?

The thought boiled over his mind, though he did not quite understand why. Lips thinned, and he looked at the woman who pressed a hand against his cheek. Did he know her?

No.

She was someone new. Someone whom he'd never met. His head shook slightly, his face going even more white as he coughed.

Blood spilled down his lips and into his black beard, head lulling slightly as bright blue eyes shifted towards the creatures that surrounded them. They were odd...but...his mind wandered, he couldn't think. He heard only the last words she said.

"I'm not a corpse." He said, the first words to pass his lips for hours.

He was not a corpse.

Not yet.

Not until he saved her.
 
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"That is what I said, silly man." The redhead replied with another bright smile.

Before he could say anything else, she vanished from sight and jumped up into her own saddle. While she seemed friendly and unconcerned, his wounds were quite serious. She would need to act quickly if she wanted to keep him alive.

"Let us keep you that way." She called out as she turned the blue raptor towards the trees, urging him forward with a few clicks of her tongue.

The trip to her small campsite was surprisingly short, especially when carried through the thick jungle by a raptor the size of a horse.

Swinging out of the saddle, she rushed over to Thren and helped him down, nearly having to carry him. His wounds had not been caused by beasts of the Wilds, his clothes weren't tattered or shorn enough for claws.

She led him into a small but, pushing aside a tanned skin that hung in the entryway. Inside could only be described as cozy. Furs covered the dirt floor and the bedroll on the far side of the room. Opposite the bed, there was a table covered with various reagents and a mortar and pestle.

First, she helped Thren to the bed and laid him down, quickly removing his armor and shirt with little concern for modesty.
 
There was no objection from the Barbarian had being stripped of his armor.

He had not the strength to fight anyone. A little girl could have killed him at this point, his last ounce of energy having gone into hardening his heart as the knife sunk between his ribs.

The trick had saved his life, but it had also pushed him to the very edge of life. Hallucinations began to flash in front of his eyes. Images of his life, travels, everything that had happened over the last few weeks. Inexplicably he could feel cold water rush over his skin.

Goosebumps rolled over his flesh, his features tightened.

"Won't die." Thren blubbered to himself more than anything.

HIs eyes briefly fluttered open as the red headed woman moved above him, his gaze focusing on her briefly as his lips thinned.

"Tyri?" He asked. "What are you doing here?"

Confusion flashed over his features as sweat beaded on his brow.
 
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"There's no Tyri here, metal man." Vesper said with a surprising gentleness.

Once she could see his wounds, she was shocked that the man was still alive. Such injuries would have killed a lesser man.

Turning away from him, she hurried over to the table covered with herbs and vials; and quickly set about mixing together a remedy that would finally stem the bleeding and encourage healing. Once the pale green mixture was made, she carefully spread it over the open wounds on his chest and side. It would sting uncomfortably, bubbling slightly as it started to pull out contaminants and any infection that had started to set in.

She made a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat, then returned to the table. Several leaves native to the jungle were crushed into a paste and smeared across a bandage.

None of it was actual magic, but she was unwittingly conducting a bit of alchemy, taught to her by the village wise woman many years ago. To her, it was just how one went about healing a wound.

She pressed the salve covered bandage over the wounds, applying pressure while she looked down at him.

"Is Tyri your mate?" She asked quietly, prodding him with a question to keep him conscious.
 
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He chuckled. "No...no no."

Who was this woman if she wasn't Tyri?

They looked to same. The red hair, the small lithe form. His eyes narrowed for a moment, focusing more on the face. There he saw the difference, though it was slight. His memory was still foggy, more so than before actually.

"She..." What was she. "My sister."

Was that right?

He thought it might have been, but perhaps they were not of the same family. His lips thinned for a moment and he could feel pain arching through him, though he was not entirely sure from where. "Who are you?"

Not Tyri, but someone who'd saved him.
 
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"My name? I am Vesper. Sister to none, I am afraid." She responded with an apologetic smile.

"Here, take this." She said, offering a folded leaf for him to chew. "It will help with the pain."

"What is your name, metal man?" She asked, moving wash her hands out in a basin filled with water.
 
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He reached out and took the leaf, frowning for a second before he slipped it between his lips and began to chew.

Pain wracked the entirety of his body, but at this point he figured that there was very little left to lose. Whether the leaf was medicine or poison didn't exactly matter if he was going to die anyway. His head spun still, and he furrowed his brow as she asked a question.

"I..." Who was he?

The question was one met with an abyss.

He couldn't remember himself. Couldn't remember what he did or what he was. All he could remember was blood. "I don't know."
 
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The leaf took effect with impressive speed, numbing his mind to the pain and leaving him with a euphoric high in its place. By the time Vesper was drying her hands, Thren would only be faintly aware of a full throb in his torso.

She turned back to him, putting her hands on her hips with a slight frown. "You do not know yourself?"

"How odd." The redhead declared with an amused chuckle.

"What to call you then... Mystery metal man." She paced across the room with a bowl of water and a rag in hand.

Sitting down on the side of the cot, Vesper dabbed away the blood, sweat, and dirt from Thren's face.

"I think... Obsidian will suit you well. Until you come to know yourself." She said matter-of-factly.
 
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Obsidian.

Black Stone, sharp when cut right. He slowly turned his hands, glancing down at his fingers as he watched them curl once or twice. Then he slowly nodded in confirmation to her. It was a name that would work well enough for now.

"Where am I?" He asked.

The herbs that she had given him had dulled some of the pain, and he could slowly feel some of his strength returning.

It was doubtful that he would be able to walk any time soon, even more doubtful that he could fight, but he no longer stood at deaths door. That was something at least.
 
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"Mmm... You are in my bed, in my home. Which is in my camp, that is near the River." She said idly with a faint smile. If there was a name used by outsiders to describe the River, she didn't know of it.

"Most important though, you are in a safe place." She added with another smile and a nod of her head.

"And I saw no sign of whoever did this to you."
 
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None of that answered any questions for him. She gave vague answers. Camp. River. Nothing that would actually tell him where he had been taken. A frown touched his face, and then he realized he likely would not get more.

Somehow he got the impression this woman did not even know what a map was. ”I see.”

He said quietly as he glanced down towards his chest. The men that had done this to him...who were they? Why had they tried to kill him?

So much blood had been lost, he felt so tired. He had no memory of even sustaining his wound, just saving himself. Lips thinned for a moment and he looked up at his savior. Had she done this to him? No.

That didn’t make any sense.

”I don’t remember them.” He said quietly. ”I don’t remember anything.”[/color
 
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Vesper tilted her head slightly at his muted confession and then she smiled brightly at him. "That is okay! You can just make new memories now, Obi."

Already she'd shortened the name that she gave him just moments prior.

She stood up from the bed and stretched her arms over her head, groaning softly. Her eyes then drifted to Thren's bloodied armor and a frown darkened her pretty features.

"Mmm... Though we will need to clean your armor. Blood attracts predators. Wouldn't want something too big to find us."
 
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Predators? Why would that be a problem.

His lips thinned for a moment and his head shook, deciding that he didn't really want to think too much about that right now. Most of his mind was still in pieces, fragmented, and he wasn't entirely sure what was going on even now.

"Thank you." He said finally, deciding that it was the least he could offer her before things went any further.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would have died had Vesper not found him in that barn. He did not know what he had been doing there or who'd tried to kill him, but he was glad he was alive.

His hand flickered over his skin, running over a small mark on his flesh with a frown.
 
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Her head canted curiously to the side as he ran his fingers over the small mark; but she smiled at him after his words. She shook her head, the bits of bone woven into her braids clinking softly together from the movement. "You only needed a little push, I did not do much."

She idly gestured towards him, chuckling quietly. "You are strong. Medicine will only do so much. You saved yourself, Obi."

The woman then moved over to his blood-soaked armor and knelt down, using a few rags to start cleaning away the mess. "What is that mark on your chest?"
 
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His hand traced against the mark for a moment.

There was a strange familiarity to it, yet something told him the tattoo was fairly new. Compared to the others which adorned his body anyway. Lips thinned as he tried hard to remember, though only splotches of black appeared. "I don't know."

The barbarian admitted.

"I don't know what any of them mean." Several more tattoos appeared all over his body, but none of them offered even a flicker of memory. "It's all...dim."

He looked up at her almost hopeful. "An effect of the medicine?"
 
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Vesper glanced up from her work, pausing in consideration. After a few moments, she shook her head and went back to cleaning the armor. She was seated in the middle of the floor, well within view of the barbarian. "It's not impossible. But I've never heard of such a reaction."

She tapped an index finger against her bottom lip and then pointed at Thren. "Maybe focus on what you do remember? Like your sister." The woman suggested with a bright smile.

Cleaning the blood off the metal armor was tedious, but she enjoyed the simple task. She noticed the distinct signs of battle etched into the surface -- whoever the metal man was, he had been a fighter. A warrior.

The fact that he survived such grievous wounds spoke to his tenacity. She imagined that he would be a formidable foe to any who crossed him, given his build and demeanor. Which begged the question of who bested him? And how?
 
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A hand slowly touched his head as he tried to force the memories forth, his lips thinning and head shaking. "Not really my sister...not by blood."

That was all he could remember though, that and her face.

"She was..." Lips thinned, and he made a pained expression as the pieces of memory slipped away from him. His hand sunk into his skin, pressing for a brief moment as though he were trying to force out the thoughts.

After a moment he simply shook his head.

"No." His voice cracked. "No I can't remember."

Slowly The Barbarian pushed himself up, the wound in his chest aching as he tried to sit.
 
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In a flurry of movement, Vesper was on her feet and hurried over to Thren. A hand pressed to his shoulder and she shook her head. "No, no. Do not force it. You must rest."

There was a patient look in her eyes and she offered him a reassuring smile.

"The mind is like the wind, yes? It goes where it wishes on its own time and cannot be caught, no matter how much we try." Her hand lifted from his shoulder and she gave one last nod of her head.

"You remember how to speak. How to breathe. The rest will come when its ready. Like the wind."
 
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A grunt escaped him as he found himself pushed back down onto the bed. Thren had no idea why, but he felt a sense of urgency. It was like there was something he was supposed to be doing, something that he had forgotten.

The feeling was driving him mad. "I can't sit here."

He told Vesper with a frustrated huff.

For some reason as soon as he said the words he got the impression that his mother would have called him a child. The memory made him wince slightly, a wooden spoon cracked across the back of his knuckles surging through his mind.

"I..." Shit. "How long? Until I can stand, move?"

His hand grasped the underside of the cot, fingers tightening as he unconsciously drew upon the strength within the wood.
 
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Once she was satisfied that he wasn't going to get up and foolishly make a run for it, Vesper returned to the armor to finish cleaning it. She huffed as she sank back down onto the dirt floor and ruffled the hair at the back of her neck in thought.

"A few days, at least. The wound needs to heal. If you're up and moving, it's more likely to tear open." She said matter-of-factly, but not unkindly.

Humming softly, she worked diligently on the equipment, caring for it as if it was her own.

"If you need something to do in the meantime, I can give you arrows to fletch?" She offered, suspecting that he need something to keep his mind busy.
 
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He blinked. "I don't know how to do that."

Vaguely he remembered thinking of the idea of arrows as cowardly. He could not have said why, but that opinion struck him almost as hard as anything else he'd felt since waking up.

His hand reached up, touching his forehead and rubbing his brow.

A frown touched his face as he felt something odd on his head, his eyes immediately flickering to his hand. There he saw his fingers, three of which had become the color of the wood holding the cot together. Theyre curled when he tried, but slower, less animate.

"What..." Thren said as his eyes bulged open. "The fuck..."
 
Vesper did not seem as appalled by the display of magic as Thren did. In fact, she seemed more curious than ever. She stepped closer to him and reached out, lightly tapping a finger against his wooden digits. "Oh, how fascinating! You have magic!"

She grinned brightly at him and then straightened. "That would be why you lived I imagine... must have been something you did in the fight."

Though she didn't let his protest of not knowing how to fletch arrows deter her. She scoffed and pranced over to her work table, grabbing a bundle of carved sticks and a bowl full of brilliant black and blue feathers. Sitting down next to him of the bed, she grinned once more.

"And don't be silly. I'll teach you then."
 
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His fingers tightened, Vesper's words clearly somewhat lost on him as she prattled on about teaching him how to make arrows.

Instead his focus was entirely on his hand.

The odd wood that covered his fingers, the feeling and texture. His other hand quickly came up, pressing against the changed flesh and finding an odd muted sensation. "What the hell."

Thren said the words as Vesper plopped herself down next to the bed, his head half turning to see her.

"This doesn't concern you?" He asked desperately. "My skin is made out of wood!"
 
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