The fallen, p.1
The Fallen, page 1
part #1 of Heroes of Gylinnar Series
The Fallen
The First Hero of Gylinnar
By J. W. Squires
Copyright © 2018 J. W. Squires
All rights reserved.
Special thanks to:
My editor, who worked for
free, and gave more life
to my characters than I did.
And
The many other authors who
gave me pointers and helped get
this series publishing ready.
The Bridge
Moving fast. He was moving very fast. His head felt foggy, and he didn’t know what was going on. He was with other people, they were talking and shouting. He was sitting down against something, but he could tell he was moving forward very fast. He couldn’t stop thinking about that, about how fast he was going.
“Hey! You look like you’re going to be sick.”
Who said that? Was he talking to me?
He did feel nauseous. He couldn’t remember what was going on, and he couldn’t think straight. He looked to see who had talked, or he tried. Instead, his head lolled to the side, resting on whatever it was he was sitting against.
Why do I feel so weak?
Now he knew why he could tell he was moving so fast. The wind. There was a ton of wind smacking against him as he moved forward, whistling in his ears and stinging his face. Looking to his side where his head had lolled, he could see the indistinct blur of objects rushing by. The wind wasn’t the only thing he heard. He was also aware of a loud humming.
“Hey! Don’t fall!”
It was the same voice. He still had no idea if it was talking to him. As he watched, the objects blurring past abruptly came to an end.
He was looking out across black emptiness. But the emptiness was full of stars. The stars above were stationary, but the ones below his sight line seemed to shift and distort. He had the sensation of going up now, as well as forward.
So fast.
“HEY!”
“I'VE GOT IT!”
A voice yelled back this time.
Is this the person who wasn’t supposed to fall?
“No you don’t have it! We’re going to fall!”
Fall where? Into the stars?
He groaned. Why did his head hurt so much. Why was everything so confusing and his thoughts so cloudy?
“LOOK OUT!”
There was a sudden blinding light. The stars above and below were drowned out by the light. His stomach lurched, and he had the sudden sensation of falling.
There were a hundred sounds at once. An inhuman screeching, people screaming, wind howling, and a deafeningly loud blaring noise he couldn’t identify. Then there was a loud sound like a smack, a crunch, and an explosion all at once. He was violently thrown forward, off of whatever he had been sitting against.
Then everything was dark. The light was gone. The stars were gone. He had the sensation of floating. Then he blacked out.
Chapter 1
Left With Nothing
What happened?
His head didn’t feel cloudy and confused anymore, but he did have a small headache and some lightheadedness.
He was lying down now, on a flat, soft surface. Darkness was all around him, and there was something equally soft on top of him, covering most of his body. He realized his eyes were shut, so he opened them.
When his eyes opened, he was looking straight up, and all he could see was a worn, soft-brown, wooden plank roof coming to end against a similar wall. Both were plain and unadorned.
He sat up. Instantly, his headache got much worse, causing him to give an involuntary groan.
“Did you hear that?”
A muffled voice, but this one was different from the others he’d heard before. It was female. Following the voice was the sound of footsteps approaching.
Before the footsteps arrived, he tried to get a good look at his surroundings.
He was in a small room, really only big enough for a few people at once. It was made of the same wood from floor to ceiling, including the door. The thing he was lying on was a plain brown patchwork bed. The only other furnishings in the room were a desk with a chair, an unlit, metal oil lamp by the door, some shelves here and there, and a wardrobe that all looked like they were made by hand.
The wall behind him had a window taking up most of the space above the desk, but he couldn’t see outside due to the simple, fuzzy grey curtains currently pulled over it, which dimmed the light in the room to a soft hue.
All of this came together to give the room a cozy feel.
Before he could make any closer examinations, the footsteps arrived at the door, and it swung open inward. Two women came through the door. One looked young, maybe just turned eighteen. She had long auburn brown hair and emerald green eyes. Her face was rounded in a way that made it look soft, but not enough to look pudgy.
He thought she looked kind of attractive.
Her lips were parted, and her brows raised slightly with both concern and excitement as she came in.
The other woman was likely her mother. She had similar brown hair and rounded face, but hers was more pock marked and wrinkled with age lines from years of both worry and joy. She had a warm smile, the kind that made everything feel like it would be alright. They both wore plain, rough worker’s clothes that hid the shape of their bodies.
The two women stopped simultaneously when they saw him sitting straight up.
The young woman’s brows raised even further, “You’re awake!” Her voice was light and smooth, like silk.
He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know how he had gotten here or who these people were. He tried to remember what had happened before… he wasn’t sure what.
His thoughts were interrupted by the older woman, “how are you feeling?” She spoke slowly, and her voice was full of tenderness, but it had an edge to it that spoke of suspicion.
The only thing he could think to reply was, “I don’t know. What happened to me?”
The woman pursed her lips, then said, “We were hoping you could tell us. We found you just lying on the ground a few yards from our front door. My husband thought maybe you were a drunkard who’d had one too many.”
He shook his head. He didn’t know.
The woman continued, “You didn’t have anything with you. Just your cloths. What’s the last thing you remember?”
He thought for a moment. “Moving really fast, two people, stars, a really loud noise, falling...” He shrugged. He didn’t know what any of it meant, and it was a bit concerning.
“Stars and falling?” The young woman said abruptly, whipping around to face her mother while her brows somehow raised even further.
The mother quickly shot a glare at the young woman that stopped her saying anything else.
The young girl looked back and forth between him and her mother. He wasn’t sure what to make of her expression as she did so.
The mother continued her questioning, “Do you remember anything before that?”
He thought for a moment, then he thought longer, and longer. His eyes darkened as they darted to and fro, searching desperately. He realized with horror that he couldn’t. He couldn’t remember anything before then. His life. His family. Nothing.
He replied shakily, panic on the edge of his voice, “No! I can’t remember anything! I can’t even remember my name!”
The young woman seemed to explode from tension as she blurted, “I know your name! It’s Alexian!”
The name didn’t trigger any memories, but it seemed to resonate strangely inside him. Like there was something on the tip of his tongue the name was close to, but not quite right.
The mother’s scowl was intense as she loudly scoffed. “Child! How could you say that!? You know very well he can't go about claiming to be Alexian. He’d be killed!”
Killed!?
The daughter looked down, upset, yet she wasn’t backing down. “But you know it’s true. You heard what he said about falling through stars! And how else could he have gotten here all by himself?”
The mother was quick to respond. “He said he remembered falling and stars. This isn’t a game, or one of Rewline’s stories, you’re going to put him and all of us in danger if you go around telling people his name is Alexian, and he fell through stars! You should know better!”
He interrupted, “In danger from what?”
The young women was about to answer, but the mother stepped in front of her, and looked her sternly in the eyes. “If you are not going to be quiet and drop this Alexian nonsense, you will wait outside until the matter is dealt with.”
The daughter looked ashamed, but then stared pleadingly into her mother’s eyes. “Can I at least tell him about the prophecy?”
The mother was still stern when she answered, “Absolutely not! That fanciful tale concocted by a bunch of hopeful rebels is the source of this whole problem, and the less he knows about it the better off he’ll be!”
Prophecy? Rebels?
This had peaked his interests. He wanted to know what this prophecy was that she was talking about, for all he knew it could bring back some memories, but he could tell he would have to wait until the mother wasn’t around to ask.
The mother turned her attention back to him. “So, you don’t remember your name?”
“No,” was his reply. A single word, and yet it carried so much pain with it as it passed through his being. It shook him to not know who he was, without so much as a name.
“Then what would you like us to call you until you remember?”
He tho ught about this. The name Alexian had carried some indistinct meaning deep inside him, what it was or the reason for it he didn’t know, perhaps he’d heard it before, but the way the mother spoke with such certainty when she said he would be killed for such a name frightened him. Yet he didn’t know any other names.
At last he came to a conclusion, “What about just, Alex?” It wasn’t the full name, but it still brushed something deep in his thoughts.
The daughter gave him a bright smile, and he found himself catching it, but the mother pursed her lips again.
“Very well,” she replied. “I suppose it’s far enough.”
The woman turned to walk off, but Alex called, “Wait. where are you going?”
“To get you something to eat. You’ve been asleep for almost three days.”
Three days!?
Then Alex realized something else. “What is the date today, and... where am I?”
The woman’s glare disappeared, and a tone of pity entered her voice when she replied, “Today is the twentieth of September. And you're just outside of Wiltshire, in the Empire of Hensag.”
She said the word ‘empire’ venomously, more things Alex would have to ask about, but now she was walking away, leaving the daughter alone with Alex.
He waited a few seconds for the mother to get far enough away, at least, he hoped. He couldn’t see what was beyond the door since it opened to the wall of a corridor.
“So,” he started. “Who are you?”
Before answering, the young woman peeked around the side of the door and down the corridor, probably making sure of the same thing Alex had been. She was apparently satisfied, because she immediately turned back to Alex before quietly blurting, “I’m Annaliese. Did you really fall through stars? Are you here to help the rebels? Can you—” She would have continued, but Alex’s headache flared up again, and she noticed.
Alex sat, grimacing, until it passed. Annaliese walked over, and sat on the edge of the bed, another look of guilt on her face.
“You really don’t have any memory?” she asked. She sounded so sorrowful when she said it, it made Alex’s heart ache along with his head.
Alex replied, “No.”
Again that one word. Again it carried so much pain. It was a horrible feeling, not knowing who he was.
Annaliese put on a smile, “That’s ok. You can make new memories.” She started to fiddle with the hem of her work shirt nervously.
Her optimism cheered Alex up a little, but not much.
“What were you talking about, about a prophecy?” he asked.
Annaliese beamed for real again hearing the question, making Alex feel better too. She started pouring out everything she knew about the topic with the same vigor that she had asked the questions with earlier. “A while ago a group of people came together to rebel against Fenric. The ruler of the empire,” she added quickly, seeing Alex’s confused look. She continued without missing a beat, “They fought him head on and started winning, but something went wrong and they were defeated just outside The Capitol— they made it all the way to The Capitol! The survivors went into hiding after that, but a while ago rumors started circling that a seer in the rebelling had told a prophecy. The prophecy goes,
‘All hope lost but will soon return.’
‘Born on the back of a hero sworn.’
‘He’ll fall from the stars, a gift from the heavens.’
‘To Helgun he’ll go, with the strongest of weapons,’
‘to topple the rule of the tyrant king,’
‘and to all the people, freedom bring.’
‘But what can build can also destroy.’
‘A weapon under the emperor’s employ.’
‘The only hope for all the worlds,’
‘may be beaten by what he most dearly holds.’
‘Watch for the sign of flying sparrow’
‘It heralds Alexian, the fallen hero.’”
From her smile it was obvious she had spent a long time memorizing the words, and was proud at being able to recite it. Now that she had finished, she was staring intently at Alex, waiting to see what he would make of it.
“Right after news of that prophecy reached him, the emperor made a law declaring anyone bearing the name Alexian was to be immediately killed, and all sparrows hunted down.” The mother had come in without either of them noticing, and they both jumped at the sound of her words. “Mentioning that prophecy, let alone memorizing it, is considered treason, and is punished by death or a life in the gold mines. That is why I forbid you from mentioning it to Alex!”
Annaliese stared down at her hands in shame. “I’m sorry,” she said, almost whispering. “But it really is him. It has to be him.”
“Don’t try to drag strangers into your foolish fantasies girl!” the mother reprimanded, pointing a finger furiously at her. “This poor man needs aid, not you clouding his head with rebel fairy tales. Go fetch some of the hibiscus in the garden, and put them in the pot in the fire.”
“Yes mother,” Annaliese quickly replied. Then she hurried out the door.
“Do I get any say in the matter?” Alex asked.
“No.” was the mother’s only reply.
Alex was really starting to dislike that word.
“There’s a creek behind the house. Drink this, then go wash yourself. You look filthy.” She passed him a vial, about as long as his finger, with a purple liquid in it. Then she turned, and left the room.
Alex pulled the blanket fully off, and looked down at himself.
I do look filthy.
He was wearing plain clothes, a white short sleeve shirt and blue work pants. They were caked in dirt and various plant materials. But then Alex came to another realization:
What do I look like!?
There were no mirrors or very reflective surfaces in the room, so he had no idea. He would have to find one later. He opened the vial, and drank the purple liquid. It tasted like milk and lemons mixed together, not a very good mixture. With a start, he realized he’d remembered what milk and lemons taste like.
I can remember that but not my own name?
Alex got up out of the bed, and slowly walked to the door. Peering around the corner, the passage the door opened into was not so much a corridor as it was a nook, made just for the placement of the door. Past the nook was a room that made up the living room, kitchen, and dining room. It was sparsely furnished, mostly with wooden furniture all built from the same kind of tree. There were more oil lamps, but they were unlit, and the only light was coming from the two windows beside the door on the far end of the room. Once again, he would have described the whole place as cozy.
Stepping out into the room, Alex could see the mother sitting at an iron cooking pot in a stone fireplace against the same wall as the nook. He could also see other doors branching away from the room to his right.
Looking up from stirring the cooking pot, the mother saw Alex, and gave a gentle sigh. “Well go on. I don’t want you leaving a trail of dirt everywhere you walk. There are some spare clothes and a towel I already put down by the creek for you.”
Following her instructions, Alex hurriedly walked across the room, and out the door. Out to a world he knew nothing about.
Chapter 2
Meeting The Father
It’s so bright.
The first thing that hit Alex when he walked outside was the sunlight. He had to squint and blink his eyes to adjust to it. Once he had, he took a look around. Surrounding the house was a forest of large trees with mostly barren trunks, but the volume of leaves increased as they continued up, blocking the horizon. About ten yards of level ground separated the tree line and the sides of the house. A path had been made through the trees directly ahead of the door. It was large enough to let a wagon go through with ease. He could tell because right at that moment a wagon was going through it, coming toward the house. The driver was a muscular man, guiding the two horses easily pulling the wagon.
The man looked straight at Alex before pulling up beside the house, hopping down, then heading toward him. The man was well built from years of hard labor. His face and close cut hair were covered with dust from the road. The edges of his mouth were turned down in a permanent grimace. “You’re that drunkard. What’s your name? And why are you still around here?” His voice was rough, probably from years of inhaling dirt.
