He remembers the bright flash of headlights. He remembers a woman screaming for him as he looked up into the night sky. He remembers the stars were shining brighter because the streetlights had gone out an hour earlier. He remembers the creeping darkness before all he could see was black.
And then he forgot all of it. Anything before that point had never happened to him.
His first memory was of him in a wooden chair. He was in a stone building with just a few windows. The light from outside crawled along the floor. He had clothes on that he had never seen before. Or maybe they were the first clothes he had ever worn.
At his feet were some strange items. There was a silver chain with a light blue crystal dangling from it. It was wrapped around the handle of a short sword without a sheath and a few chips along the blade. Laying on the floor beneath it was a leather belt with four vials. Three held a red liquid that was almost the shade of blood, while the last held a dark blue substance that seemed almost solid.
"Welcome newcomer!" a great voice shouted to him. He jumped in his chair a bit, then looked around for the source of the voice. But he was alone in the room.
If he was alone though, then who was creating the words that started to appear in front of him. It was ornate gold handwriting that appeared before him, and a softer, more feminine voice read it out to him:
This is your new world now.
It has taken many shapes before,
But the people here have come to call it
Tera de Fantastique.
Here, adventurer, you may live however you like.
You may choose to be an explorer
Diving into the dark corners of this earth to find places unknown.
You can try your hand at either politics or merchant trades,
Finding the power that sword alone cannot give.
Or you can seek a darker path,
Marking your name in red
Paving a path of death.
The choice is yours.
So this was his fate now. To live a life in a world described as fantastic. A new life to replace the one he had forgotten before. With no other visible option, he nodded, as if in acceptance of his new destiny.
The text before him had disappeared. Now the invisible pen was drawing a large square in front of him. The square quickly began to fill with text and numbers. On the left side was a list marked as STATS. Listed were the categories of STR, DEX, MAG, DEF, RES, and LUK. Next to most of these was the number 7, with the exception of LUK which had only 1 next to it. Beside this list was another list titled TRAITS. Below the title was Merchant, Craftsmanship, and Cunning. All of these had a 1 next to them.
Between both these lists a plaque of sorts had been hastily drawn. Inscribed on it was a single word. A name.
Noah.
That's my name, he thought to himself. He needed to assurance. No outside confirmation by anyone else. His name was Noah. And Noah knew that for a fact.
There was one more piece of text below the tables. A quick little addendum that read "More information will be given upon first modification."
"Are you ready to embark on your adventure, Noah?" the original voice shouted from wherever its source was. Noah nodded. With the same suddenness that the text appeared and vanished before him, a tall mirror had been conjured opposite the sword and other items from him.
"Are you happy with how you look?" the lady voice asked. Noah realized it was the first time he had ever seen himself. Somehow he knew he looked around sixteen years old judging by height. His untidy gray hair went almost down to his shoulders, but he could still spot a pair of silvery eyes. He was in some very tattered brown pants and a brown shirt that wasn't in much better shape. But Noah had to reach up to his ears himself to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Of all the weirdness he had encountered in what he had known as a life so far, the fact he had very pointy ears was the most bizarre.
"Go forward, child," both voices said. There was a loud, almost violent bang as the room suddenly flooded with light. "Into the Lowlands! Where it always begins! Where it one day will end!"