The old man stands, wiping blood from his mouth. Still catching his breath. Dean, bruised and bloodied cautiously approaches. The old man gave me a long, searching look, sending cold chills down my spine.
Gruff but serious, the old man glanced at me.
"You look lost boy. Where are you from?"
I paused, my heart pounding hard against my ribs, eyes flashing with a tinge of confusion.
"I... I don't know." I muttered with clenched fists, the longing to recollect with my past clawing at me with each fading breath.
The old man frowned, watching me carefully, skepticism flickering within his eyes.
"You don't know?" he chuckles, "Don't play mind games on me boy. No one forgets where they came from."
True. But not in my case.
I forced a smile.
Soon, depression crept in.
And worse, exasperation tugged at the walls of my mind.
...I was damn tired of all this.
Just when will it end.
I questioned no one but myself and the endless void within me.
Soon I spoke up:
"I'm not lying. I... I can't remember."
There and then, the old man seemed to recollect something, his expression softening, his tone less harsh.
"Memory lose, then? Hmm. Uncommon, but not impossible in a place like this."
I clenched my fists, desperation slipping into my voice:
"I- It's like there's a fog. I can't see anything... I don't even know how I got here."
The old man nods, looking down thoughtfully:
"Seen worse afflictions in this cursed land. You're lucky you've held on to as much as you have." He looks back up, locking eyes with me.
And for a second there...I thought I could see a trace of...sympathy.
"Do you remember anything?"
His gaze now intensified, he added:
"Anything at all?"
My heart raced, as I contemplated telling the old man about the unending time loop. Yet, something warned me against it. I had t-his odd feeling that I was going to regret it.
I bit my lower lips, my voice barely above a whisper, tears welling in my blue eyes:
"...I remember."
Tears came freely now, memories hidden within the deepest parts of my mind resurfacing once again.
"I remember the pain. And death. I've been through both many times."
The old man sighed.
'Seems the forbidden land has affected him much more than I previously thought.'
Lightly shaking his head.
"Death clings to this place like mist in the morning. Anyone would be scared and terrified upon finding themselves in such a wretched land. And you're no exception." He steps closer, and I shuddered in fear, my heart pounding hard and fast.
The old man soon placed his hand on my shoulder, and then, I felt a surge of warmth coursing through me.
It was indescribable beyond what words could expansiate on.
I f-elt relieved.
I- I felt safe at last.
The old man's tone was unexpectedly gentle, as he gave me a soft look:
"Losing your past... It's crueler than dying. But you're still here. That means something."
But then, my voice tightened, a hint of desperation slipping into my voice:
"Does it? Does it really means anything? I feel like I'm fading, like I'm just waiting for the end."
The old man studies me for a second there, his expression softening ever so slightly.
"Don't talk like that. This world may be cursed. But you're still breathing. And that's all that matters." Pausing for a quick second, his hand clamped harder on my shoulder.
"As long as you still draw breath, there's a chance to claw your way out."
The old man paused again, eyes darting around. The endless darkness seemed to be getting darker, with shadows lingering across the walls. The surrounding was becoming quiet.
Way too quiet.
He frowned slightly, eyes shifting towards me.
"You'll find no answer standing here. Come with me. There's a place nearby- a safe zone if you wanna call it. We can talk more once you have had a chance to rest."
I hesitated, my voice barely steady:
"Why? Why are you helping me? I mean... you don't even know me."
The old man chuckles softly, though his eyes remained sharp, dark even.
"No, I don't. But I've seen men fell apart in this hellhole of a place. You're still on your feet, boy. You have got more fight in you than most."
"Maybe. I guess I just don't know when to quit."
I muttered subconsciously.
Forcing a smirk to tug at the corner of my lips.
The old man glances at me and then laughs lightly, the sound dry and hollow:
"Could be. But I've found an interesting aspect of this cursed land." His voice seemed to trail off, eyes sparkling in reminiscence.
"I've found out that those who don't quit are usually the ones who last longer."
He concluded.
Soon, he sighed lightly.
Slightly shaking his head. The desolate silence encroaching upon our surroundings was increasing with the passage of time.
His eyes darted around, and then, he started walking.
Glancing back to make sure I followed:
"Come on, keep up will you. You'll find fewer chances like this to catch your breath around here."
I glanced at the endless darkness surrounding him, then at the old man. Back and forth again, and then, I soon came to a decision.
With clenched hands and hardened resolve, I followed behind the old man.
My voice, now carrying a touch of wariness sliced through the desolate silence:
"What do I call you?"
The old man, not looking back.
Chuckles.
"Names. They don't mean much in a place like this. But if you must, call me Garren."
I nodded.
Muttering the word:
"Garren."
Still walking, the cobblestones beneath me reflected into my pupils. My voice, quieter now.
"Thank you. I don't know why, but...thank you."
I bit on my lower lips, my hands tightly clenched as I followed behind the old man.
Glancing back, eyes glinting with something unreadable.
He spoke up:
"Don't thank me yet, boy. There's worse ahead than what you've seen. You're alive now though, and that's what matters."
His voice now barely audible, he added:
"Let's see if you can keep it that way."
I of course didn't hear this, I thought the old man was mumbling to himself.
"I understand." I spoke through balled-fists and hardened resolve.
"Good."
The old man nods his head as we both headed for the supposed safe zone.
Yet as we walked, I couldn't shake off t-his weird feeling that I was forgetting something extremely important.
'...But what could it be?'
I questioned no one but myself and the endless void within me.
Time passed by in the blink of an eye and before I knew it, I had already spent two weeks with Garren.
***
Within the span of two weeks, I could identify any chemical. I could bandage a wound, set a bone in place and identify tens of strange supernatural sicknesses from their symptoms. I knew the process for making three different aphrodisiacs, three concontions for contraceptions and nine for impotence.
I learned the alchemical formulae for a dozen poisons, and around fifty medicine and cure-alls. I doubled my herb lore in theory if not in practice. Once or twice a day, Garren would present me with a little mental exercise- he called it. He made me play chess without a board, keeping tracks of the stones in his head. Other times, he would stop in the middle of a conversation and make me repeat everything said in the last few minutes, word for word.
This was levels beyond any simple memorization. My mind was learning to work in different ways, becoming stronger at an astounding pace. It felt the same way one's body would feel after a day of splitting wood or swimming or sex. You feel exhausted, languorous, and almost god-like.
All in all, the past two weeks I have spent with Old man- Garren have been the best days of my life. There was no more torment- no endless agony, no horrifying pain. There was only joy, laughter and jokes even.
T-his...this is what I have always longed for.
...What I had always hoped for.
I felt a strange warmth coursing through me, a warm feeling coursing through every fiber of my being.
And today, Garren would be teaching me something new. A strange warmth coursed through me as I sat on the cold floor, eyes gleaming in anticipation as I stared at Garren.
Garren smirked, teasing me with the endless silence. And after what felt like an eternity to me, he finally spoke up.