A gentle breeze. The buzz of cicadas. The sounds that usually occupied the night could no longer be heard. At this moment, the sky split with a single meteor's fiery descent with a peculiar roar that could be heard for miles . It carved its way towards the earth, trailing vivid streaks of green and purple. The eerie light spilled across the snowbound land underneath, painting it in shifting, unnatural hues. Below, folk gathered in trembling clusters, their voices hushed as they pointed skyward with trembling fingers. Murmurs spread and more came out of their shelters to awe at what was above. The unbroken snow lay in solemn stillness, for the earth itself was holding its breath.
Far removed from all gazes stood a man, a solitary figure who was completely calm in the chaos of the moment. He was distant, his silhouette sharp against the dim horizon. Not a single speck of snow could be seen around him, for he was on a different land entirely. The fiery rock was but a small dot in his vision, a faint flicker in the infinite black.
The wind clawed at him, tugging at his short white hair. His hand rose to adjust the mask that hid his face. It was adorned with three triangles stacked in a vertical formation, all centered around a single, watchful painted eye. The mask obscured his expression, but the tone of his voice could be heard just fine.
"Do you see that, Christa? The harbinger of misfortune has finally arrived."
He stood tall atop a towering structure, his posture as unyielding as his confidence. The height, the power, it suited him. He welcomed the meteor's arrival with a tone that hinted at both anticipation and amusement.
"Welcome back. I wish you the best of luck in your survival... and your mission."
"I look forward to seeing your accomplishments in this land of Titans."
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The boy's eyes fluttered open to a world of smoke and fire. An acrid stench bit at his throat with every shallow breath. His chest heaved painfully. Each gasp was a desperate effort against the weight of the foul air. Meanwhile, cold seeped into his back, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat that radiated from all around. His vision was a watery blur, distorted by tears born of the thick surrounding fumes. He tried to push himself up, but his arms rebelled. His mind was no better—an empty cavern echoing with a single, desperate thought:
Where am I?
Eventually, the smoke parted, reluctantly unveiling an unpleasant scene. Around him, snow had turned to blackened sludge, its purity defiled by soot. The crater in which he lay stretched wide, its edges still smoldering.
And then he saw them. Two figures emerged from the haze like phantoms, their silhouettes sharp against the ashen light. The boy blinked against the sting of his tears, struggling to focus on them. The first was a boy, tall and broad-shouldered, his parted hair a pale blue, his expression cold and severe. He seemed hewn from ice, his face wore an unsettling expression. Beside him stood a girl, slighter of frame. Her gaze was bright, contrasting her companion's dour demeanor. Long bangs framed her face, fluttering like moths.
The boy's gaze flickered between them, his heart pounding. Their white uniforms had been tainted by the environment, smudged with soot and grime. Yet even disheveled, they carried an air of chilling authority.
The deadpan boy was the first to act. He raised a hand, and from the frigid air itself, a blade of pure ice formed. It hung suspended, gleaming as it leveled at the boy's throat, hovering inches away. It was a threat so effortless that it felt almost practiced.
"Who are you?" the boy demanded coldly.
The boy opened his mouth to answer, but no words came. His mind was a void, empty of memories, empty of meaning. He searched the darkness within himself desperately, and found only a single name.
"My name is Sorn," he rasped. His first words barely cracked out of his raw throat.
The girl leaned forward, a finger on her chin. Her expression felt on the edge of playfulness, but there was a hint of caution in her voice. "So, he speaks our language," she said. She stepped closer, as though she were testing the waters of a frozen lake. "I'm Crystal, and that's Keilan. Say hi, Keilan."
Keilan's icy glare didn't waver, and neither did his sword. "Where are you from?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"Where do your allegiances lie?"
"I don't know."
Keilan's frown deepened, his grip tightening on the hilt of his conjured blade. "Explain the meteor you fell out of."
"Meteor?" Sorn repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion. He glanced around at the smoldering crater, the ruined snow, but the word held no meaning for him.
Keilan studied him with unrelenting scrutiny. "Do you remember anything?"
Sorn tried to rise, but again his trembling arms pressed weakly into the slush, his efforts unfruitful. "No," he said at last.
The blade of ice wavered, then dissolved into nothingness. Keilan straightened, and his expression had not become kinder. "Fine. Get up. You're coming with us."
He turned to leave, his movements as purposeful as his words. But Crystal stepped into his path..
"You can't be serious," Keilan said, his jaw tightening. "What would you have me do? Leave him here? This isn't a decision for us. The Council will decide his fate."
Crystal's smile grew. "I'll take him to the hut, I have a few questions of my own."
Keilan's eyes narrowed, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. "The Council won't take kindly to this," he said. "And Toren's group is already investigating."
"They won't find us," Crystal replied with a breezy confidence that bordered on arrogance.
Keilan stared at her for a moment longer before turning away. "Do what you want," he said curtly. He walked away, not bothering to say anything further to Sorn.
Crystal knelt beside the amnesiac boy, her smile softening. "What do you think, um, was it Sorn? What should we have done with you?"
Sorn met her gaze, as he attempted to get again. This time, he was successful as he managed to sit upright. "I don't want to die," he said simply, his voice.
Crystal's eyes peered deep into his. Her gaze was so focused, it was almost uncomfortable. "Were you really in that meteor?" she asked.
"I don't remember," Sorn said again.
Crystal laughed softly. Without warning, she leaned forward and tapped his forehead with her finger. His body crumpled, too weak to resist, his vision swimming. The last thing he saw was a blurry vision of the girl standing over him, her hand over her mouth in a dramatized fashion.
"Oops." Her playful voice betrayed that she hadn't made a mistake.
Then, his world faded to black.