I woke up. At least my awareness did, while my eyes were still closed. I'm afraid but excited. What would it be? The strange creatures I had read about in the forbidden texts? Different people or place? Where? Would I survive? Which power? I hope it was a great one. I liked flames. They were so beautiful but destructive. I wanted it.
I opened my eyes. My breath was shallow, expectant. "Now," I murmured. The reveal. But as my eyes adjusted, there it was. The same cracked ceiling, yellowed with time, the same damp stain in the corner that had once resembled a face but now looked merely like rot. The same room, the same smell of wine and excrement. Is this a joke?
I turned my head. The mirror. I sigh. I was still me. Of course I was still me. But in the same place. Didn't it work? The stone was gone now. I couldn't find it. I hope at least nobody heard me or saw me yesterday. Perhaps I'm truly destined to be the same joke I was.
I put on my uniform. Leather, light armor. The brown color. I found it strange. Why brown? Why not the green colors of this city's flag? And the answer? To shade costed more than the lord wanted to spend. Could you believe it? Not even that we were offered.
I ate my bread. Hard, but hey, at least it made my stomach full. I was still denying it, wasn't I? Reality, as it is, ate me more than I tasted my food. Forget it. At least I tried. Now, I needed to hurry and arrive earlier than that bastard. He beat me yesterday, but I couldn't give him any chance to exploit.
Stepping outside felt different. The hazy fog in the morning gave a strange feeling of peace for me. At least I wasn't like the folks talking about the mysterious dangerous things inside the fog. I mean, shit happened outside in the wild. You couldn't blame it on a natural phenomenon.
Down the hill, I spotted the farmers readying themselves for work. I turned my head. I… my parents were still there, you know? At least, back then, for me. Sometimes I spotted them in the city. It was funny watching them hide their face like I was some sort of monster. From their blood I came, no?
The city. Modest in size, with the cracks and plants growing alongside the walls. Not once experienced war or danger in the last hundred years. A blessed place, if not for the bad administration and lack of incentive for merchants. It kept us poor and made us live like old-timers when the rest of the world developed their technology. At least, that's what the travelers used to say.
I didn't expect anyone to greet me, but looking at their avoiding me still burns my eyes with anger. I'm a soldier, bastards. At least respect me for keeping an eye out for thieves or wild animals. And the more I looked around, the more the anger consumed me. Until I noticed something strange happening.
It was too silent. Like, usually there were greetings, murmurings, and even the ladies humming some old melodies. But the more I watched, the more I realized it. They were not talking, and their faces were looking down to the ground.
I moved around. The clicking sound of my boot and sword made me nervous. What was happening here? Perhaps I was still dreaming. I spotted Mr. Potato, a merchant that everyone liked. He always treated me well. I approached him, asking with a joking tone, "Hey, Mr. Potato, everyone is silent, no?"
He didn't reply. Still looking at the ground. What was happening here? Perhaps… Perhaps someone spotted me doing that. Everyone acting strange was because of me? I started sweating as if I was bathing in the river. The leather weighed more than iron, and the countless times I spun around seeking a sound or someone looking up made me dizzy.
Would I die? The lord would bring the priests and that bastard chief along? Who heard me? Who saw me? That Riddler? It was false? Why? I ran from men to women to kids. I tried to speak, anyone. They didn't react. Even when I grabbed a woman's shoulder, something that would have made a dozen people kick me, nothing happened.
I checked every corner, every street, and every house. No one. Then I saw it. Moving quietly like a leaf falling from a tree. In a dark alley. Something white, at least moving. I chased it. I ran half the city because I saw myself in the main square. Hell, even the priests were not moving. But then again. I was there because of the thing I saw, no? I searched. Corner at corner, from the gaps between people and houses, until I spotted.
In the mirror of a bakery shop. I saw myself, but without my shadow. Was it possible? For someone to live without their shadow? I started to panic. In all my years living, it never happened before. I heard it, low, almost like scraping metals, slithering into my ears, "You, dumbass bastard, are nothing. You're dead."
I turned as fast as possible and almost broke my knee. But nothing. No one was near me, yet the voice sounded as if it was behind my neck. Once again, the same scraping-like sound, "Ah, a man who couldn't recall his own name, dumbass, idiot."
Name? What? I — my name was… I couldn't recall it. How? I knew I had one. But why? It couldn't be. I was a soldier in my thirties. Was it possible to serve the city without a name? I doubted it. Yet, who was I? That voice echoed again, "Do you feel it? You're nothing, no name, no identity. Why even bother to be alive?"
I was losing my mind. I tried to slash my arm with my sword. But besides the line of blood and the sharp pain, I was still there. Looking around, I saw in the alleys that the shadows were stretching more than they should. Something was happening there.
Approaching it. I felt cold. In a place like that? Where's the sun punished with more will than the chief reducing my salary with taxes? Sword in hand, I walked with measured paces. I learned it well. A soldier must be cold-headed.
Darkness near the intersection between two houses. It shifted even though the light does not change. Even in daylight, I saw a shape. Emerging, not fully formed but shifting. It doesn't move directly, but I had to turn my head just right to keep it in sight. It was always just outside my vision, it turned, it vanished, it got closer.
I ran. Something was strange. Then I realized it. Was this the awakening? Really? I read from the forbidden text that it was customary that when awakening, you would need to face a challenge. But in my hometown? I needed answers, and I knew where to find them in my house.
But when I turned to open my house's door, I saw him — sitting at the table — the chief. That bastard. He was toying with my notebook. How did he find it? I kept it deep down where the excrement was. How? And why was he there?
He turned to face me, speaking, "Ah, bastard. I see it. You use it. Today you will die. Nobody will bother to give you a decent funeral. Don't believe me? See, why am I here? The leader sent me. His orders were…" He paused, and I froze. Why?
The chief slammed the table, speaking like a maniac. "His orders are to kill you, of course. Be fast, and drop you in the forest for the wild animals to eat. Hey, good, no? At least nobody will see your ugly face. I mean, nobody will miss you, that I'm sure."
Something inside me burned. I started to tremble. No, it couldn't be real. No, I wouldn't die here. Not today, not now. I took my sword, trembling, and raised it to my head's height. If I went to die, at least I would bring this bastard with me.
The chief stood, speaking, "You think you deserve it? Uh, to use that. Is it freedom you seek? Bastard. Look at you. Trembling with a bad stance. Truly a poor idiot. Can someone like you be free? Someone who can't even remember his own name… You must thank me for spending my precious time here to kill you. I'm doing a favor, you know?"
I closed my eyes and slashed him. It was like time stopped. Perhaps I should have tried to escape. That would've been better than murder, right? But that anger inside me spread my thoughts like a flame. But I didn't hear it. Not iron against iron, nor against flesh or wood. Nothing. I hit nothing. When I opened my eyes, he was gone.