Silence.
Everything lies still to our ears...
until the stillness shattered.
Tap... ploc... ploc...ploc... The air is heavy. It smells of wet wood, rusted metal, and dust that clings to the roof of the mouth. Something drips steadily somewhere in the shadows. We can't hear a single human sound.
Just the slow beat.
ploc... ploc... ploc...
In the middle of the room behind a large worktable, a man, sitting on an old wooden chair, has peaceful expression on his face.
His eyes are closed, his breathing so faint that, if you hadn't paid attention, you might have missed it entirely. So still that any man might have taken him for a sculpture.
In front of the unmoving stood large windows stretching from one corner of the room to the other. Some had been broken long ago, the cause long forgotten. They let the slow morning light spill inside, the sunlight steadily creeping further and further until its rays came to caress its pale face.
A weightless light that still felt heavier than shadows.
And without warning, he opens his eyes.
A breath, then another.
The sound of his breathing slowly fills the room, adding life to this gothic picture that seemed to be missing something until now.
No panic. No pain shows on his face. Just a cold emptiness settles in his chest, a kind of bottomless hole. As if something had been torn out without leaving a single drop of blood.
The first thing he sees is an old room, high-ceilinged, too dark to make out its boundaries in those first few seconds. The walls are lined with half-empty shelves. The furniture was made of dark wood, blackened and cracked with age, or something else, hard to tell at first sight. His eyes drop to the broken window letting in a pale washed-out light.
It was an old workshop, long abandoned.
The first thing he feels is cold.
He feels cold. His trembling hands rise and start weakly rubbing his arms and legs. His body feels stiff and numb. It's something almost mechanical. His eyes are dull, still trying to wake up.
He can't see any wounds, nor bruises. Nothing.
And yet, the feeling of emptiness doesn't wash away.
He remembers nothing.
Nothing. It's empty.Really empty.Empty…
Is it supposed to feel like this?Why is it empty? Why is it empty! Empty!
The first thought shoots through his mind.Again. And again.The words won't stop spinning.His mind searches for an anchor, anything, to fill the blanks. The sudden emptiness in a space that was supposed to be full makes his mind spiral into panic.
No faces came to his racing mind. No voices. No story.
Except...
A name.
"Kael."
The name came naturally. It left his lips in a half-breath, like a reflex. He hadn't remembered it. It had simply come out of his mouth, as a desperate search for something from a bottomless pit that was his mind.
He went silent. His mind went silent.
The first sound of his voice had been strange, completely and utterly foreign.
He slowly raised a trembling hand to his face, his breath slightly uneven. His fingers brushed his face as a way to search for something. He didn't know what, but something.
His fingers slid on his cheeks, then felt something beneath his left eye. Two fine marks there, parallel. Scars, it seemed. It wasn't painful and didn't seem fresh at all but he felt something odd as he touched his skin. A shiver went through his body, it was as if his face wasn't entirely his own, it felt new. Which made sense?, he thought unsure, considering I remember nothing.
He stood up.
And staggered, his muscles felt weak, but it seems his reflexes remained intact he deduced as he was able to contract his muscles fast enough not to fall and use the table as support with his hands.
He could walk, well as much as a weak body could, he ponder as he tried taking some steps foward, legs feeling weak but fonctionnal. He didn't fall face first that's a start.
He looks up from his feet to the wall ahead and notices a poster haphazardly pasted against it. Its bright colours instantly catch his attention, standing out against the dark, grey surroundings. He approaches it slowly, muscles rigid, his ears warm and his breath deep and uneven.
He raises his eyes to the poster and sees letters whose sounds he somehow recognises. In his mind, they slowly come together to form words and sentences he can understand. A small relief for his still-processing mind.
"Circus of Toran. 15.BL.... Family offer, only 4 solmar...Get at the hotel Brooth until 33.LI..." Kael read slowly outloud testing the words, it came out rather fluently... beside the hoarce voice, he thought wryly.
So he could read too. He just didn't know... who he was. great.
He takes a few steps back and sees a crooked bookshelf leaning against the wall. His gaze turns to the floor, where a few old notebooks lie buried in dust near some kinds of spider webs full of grime. They look old and untouched.
Picking up one at random, he opens it and finds sketches of toys, lists of orders and notes on spring-loaded systems.
"Model No. 54: Rabbit."
He turned the page.
"Client: Lonez Family. Delivery: canceled."
"Reason: delivery ship sank."
"The boss said it was over. I'll keep the plans. Maybe someday, someone will bring the shop back."
Kael closed the notebook. It felt like an exploration of sort, as if he was in a quest trying to find some clues around, he thought slightly amused.
His slightly dry lips quiver gently, a faint smile forming on his lips, but it fades quickly. Even that normal gesture felt strange. A slow feeling of unfamiliarity settle again in his chest, it feels uncomfortable, as if the room was slowly closing on him.
He takes a deep breathe, slowing down his mind who's moving faster than he can comprehend.
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in...
While he tries to calm down he notice something in the corner of the room, a puppet left behind with another pile of broken toys. It manages to catch his eyes and direct his mind elsewhere from the small panic starting to form. He approach the corner, his steps still a bit unsteady but better than before.
His hand extend and grab a little blond prince adorned with a small crown from the pile, it was tangled in strings. It was well made but the mecanism was a bit rough, likely a bit old. He also saw a dozen of other same marionette put aside in the corner, going from princesses to ogre and strange animals.
He observe the toy and turn it around, fingeting with it. A temporary feeling of calmness settles slowly in his heart as he manage to divert his attention and calm down a bit.
Turning back to the room, Kael decides to look around further, even the tiniest things, maybe something can help me remember? He muse. He needed to start somewhere after all.
His gaze swept across the workshop, taking in the surroundings.
Dust clung to almost everything, it was a wonder how he hadn't coughed already, on the walls there were empty shelves lined, they were empty. There were thick wood tables everywhere, against the wall, the other wall and even a large worktable on the center of the room, their surfaces were worn and marked with tools marks? Maybe, i think?
The stained glass windows seeped colors across the floor. One of them was shattered, its jagged edges catching the pale rays of sun casting dull reds and yellows onto the floor, while the others windows were dimmed, their pretty patterns were blurred by dust or something similar.
More toys were scattered across the floor, similar to the one he saw in the corner.
Kael turns his gaze to the floor and sees a worn round rug stretched beneath the tables, its patterns nearly erased by how used it seems.
And behind him on the left, stairs descended into darkness, leading outside probably since it was the only exit from this place.
In the far corner, he saw a mirror leaned against the wall, he was curious now, what do I look like?
He approached it slowly almost apprehensive about what he is going to see but he continues either way.
Standing in front of the mirror, he sees the reflection of a man or rather his own reflection. It was a man with tousled and a bit long black hair like it hadn't been cut in some time. His features were tired and slightly drawn. His skin too pale, almost like polished marble with a hint of grey, like someone who hadn't seen sunlight in a long time.
And those eyes... grey, too clear, more like a striking silver, almost disconnected from the world in the sense that it would make you almost uncomfortable if he stared too long.
Beneath his left eye, he saw the scars he'd felt earlier again: two fine lines, subtle but hard to ignore.
Twenty... one? Twenty-two?
He guessed his age by sight, lacking anything better. He looked young, but not a teenager, but he wouldn't trust his guessing abilities, one because he could simply be someone who looked young and was actually thirty and two because he doesn't have any idea of what a someone who is twenty two looks like, the informations came to his mind but when he tried to find the memory linked to the information, he can't find it.
His features were mature, though his body looked a bit starved. The ragged clothes didn't help too, made him look a bit rough.
While he was contemplating, his attention turned to his fingers.
There was a ring on his right hand, his fingers had been instinctively playing with it while he was thinking. It looked rather simple, and was made of a dark metal, etched with faint floral motifs. Where had it come from? He didn't remember. He hadn't noticed it before.
It fit almost perfectly, just a little loose, Is it something i owned? he thought. But it also doesn't remind me of anything.
Rays of light drew his gaze away from his ring to the broken window, time had passed and the sun was brighter than before now.
Kael approached it and looked outside, a feeling apprehension crept into his chest. What would he see outside? What if I don't like it? What if I still don't recongnise anything?
Outside, the sky was grey.
The street was made of dirty stone and lined with dull gas lamps, the building were made of rough stone, they looked old and the shutters were a striking red, more like a rust kind of red.
Then he saw it.
Silhouettes.
People were moving down the street. They wore long coats and some wore cloaks. Children barefoot hurried by, either begging or rushing around playing. Women carried crates and several men leaned against walls. It seemed like a poor neighbourhood, worn out, but lively.
The road curved to the right. It seems that it leads somewhere broader and more active, Kael thought.
The fog rose slowly and he managed to glimpse a tramway groaning in the distance.
He inhaled.
And for the first time since waking up, he felt something more.
Not fear. Not anxiety. Since earlier, he had been less worried, as if, even though he'd forgotten everything, everything was fine, would be fine, though nothing was.
It's as if my brain refuse to understand now, or refused to allow itself to understand, to realize the whole gravity of the situation. Kael thought to himself.
He would deal with his emotions later, right now he needs to make a decision.
He chose.
He would go outside. He felt it, or rather he wanted it.
He needed to see this world so unfamiliar to him, he needed to know more.
In the light rays of sun, a small, slow, amused smile streched across his lips.