The boy's earliest memory of this world was of pain. That of his young soles directly walking along the ground.
The soles of his feet which should have been soft and pristine at his age were torn and shredded, the skin peeled back in raw, jagged strips. Blood welled from countless shallow cuts, trickling in crimson threads downs the arches, staining toes and pooling beneath his cracked nails; every shift of weight sent a jolt of fire lanching up through his tendons causing his bones to bones creak, to moan in protest.
Yet he continued, as if he felt nothing.
His second earliest memory of this world was that of pain. That of the burning feeling inside his throat and lungs.
The air around him was thick with soot and acrid smoke, a heavy fog that clung to the lungs, a suffocating substance; the boy felt as though he was bound by invisible coils, each breath more shallow than the last and each step more laborious and intense.
Yet he continued, as if he felt nothing.
His third earliest memory of this world was that of pain. But this was..... of a kind he could not describe.
It started slow, like an ache deep inside, a heavy knot between the ribs or an invible hand gripping his heart; it was slowly spreading, tightening with every memory, every reminder.
Yet he continued, as if he felt.... as if he felt.... a sigh escaped from his cracked lips. He was forced to stop and look around him.
His earliest memory was of the dark fog surrounding him. There was an eerie, almost oppressive stillness to it. There was no wind to stir the mist, no rustle of leaves knor chirps of distant creatures. This was a place that he knew well, a place that he used to fear, but the latter was a feeling heavily surpressed by the pain he did not know the origin of, a pain that could not be contained once he had stopped to remember.
"Mom said I can't enter this place. I can't stay here...." - But as he tried to resume his stride, the boy found himself with not a single ounce of force left. - "Mom...." - all but a wail escaped his lips.
It was then that a growl was heard from his surroundings. It began low and collected but it slowly developed into a laugh. The latter throbbed with primal wrongness as if the creature hadn't quite remembered how to mimic amusement, it crawled beneath one's skin, lingering too long on each syllable, akin to a predator toying with prey just for the pleasure of watching it squirm.
If the boy had been conscious, if he had been able to see in the dark fog, he would have been able to see that this creature resembled the form of a wolf, but that's where all the similarities ended. The creature's body was a grotesque amalgamation of sinew and malice. Limbs unnaturaly long and gangly with bones protruging at awkward angles. Clawed paws coloured a sickly crimson. Teeth, sharp and stained, jutted outward at odd angles, creating a grotesque smile that promised agony. Emanating from the creature's body was the foulest of stenches, a sickly odor of decay that hinted at carrion, of flesh long dead and left to rot, as if the creature had feasted upon the remnants of forgotten souls.... and this same creature was now eyeing the defenseless boy.
But just as the creature was about to feast, a light surged forth from the depths of the forest like a force of nature, an otherwordly glow that seemed to breathe and pulse with an ancient rhythm. It stood between the creature and the boy, shielding the latter from harm.
- Vorthelian dra'kash, elun'thar ezra'vi. - The light warned the creature in a language that is not known to man.
The creature felt perplexed at this sudden intrusion and then after understading the situation, it stirred with muscles tensed. A growl rumbled deep in its throat, a warning for the mysterious creature that had sought to steal its prey.
As the tension between the two parties thickened, the wolf-like creature's body became a coiled spring, ready to unleash its pent up fury ant any moment. Its sharp, glistening fangs were bared, the light coming from the intuder reflecting off from them and baring the existence of the remnants of centuries-old blood.
Another low growl escaped from the wolf-like creature's mouth and as it readied to pounce.... it suddenly slacked, the growl it had held in its throat developing into a laugh; this one more hearty than the one he had appeared with.
- Interesting..... Interesting.... - it seemed to say as it retreated back into the dephts of the dark fog - This old monster wil.....respect.... your choice.
After the wolf-like creature dissapeared, the light turned around and then hovered around the boy.
"Qyrax bel'tura" - It caressed his cheeks gently and with tenderness, as if it was touching its most precious treasure, before fusing into the boy's body - "Qyrax bel'tura"
With the creature of light's dissapearance, the forest returned to its previous stillness, its previous darkness.
The confrontation between the two creatures had happened in a matter of seconds so when the boy awoke he felt nothing unusual had happened. Yet, he was surprised to learn that his throat was not parched up anymore, his feet were healed and his fatigue had dissapeared. The hand that seemed to squeeze at his heart had also vanished along with all the other pain. Still, he felt that he was missing something but it wasn't long after he dismissed the thought.
- Where am I? - He scratched his head in confusion
His earliest memory was being surrounded by the black fog; obscure, quiet yet strangely soothing. It was warm and soft, sliding over his skin like silk, cradling him gently in a familiar ancient rhythm that whispered - "you are safe here, my child". The latter was not just a part of his imagination for after the encounter, something had started speaking to him.
"Here…..Atlas...here" - it was how the voices hidden within the fog called him while guiding him towards the unknown.
The boy, Atlas, did not understand why but knew instinctively that following them would bring him home. Still, no matter how much he followed them, home never came.
How long have I been here? How long have I been walking for? These were questions that had never crossed Atlas's mind. Not until his second earliest and most impacting memory came face to face with him. Yes, it wasn't until that woman, with a strange mask, changed his destiny forever.
****
It was at this moment that the goddess of fate began to spin her wheel to weave tales for this forgotten world one more time.