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Ray remembers dying. He remembers people, his people, and other people; flying, and killing. Why? Why were they killing? They had swords, oh my god there was fire everywhere! Holy shit! There were familiar faces, people he knew. Run, run, they were telling him to run, but one of them…one of them was trapped!
He was dying- bleeding! No- he didn’t want to run, but he was being pushed and pulled by the crowd, and eventually he felt a pair of arms grab him and pull him up; one of the flyers, was he going to die? He didn’t want to die. No, he wan’t dead, not yet, but he remembers a noise, someone other than his screaming out in pain before he was released and fell.
He collided with the ground and remembers voices, but he couldn’t move, his legs had been jammed in the fall. There were more voices, and then darkness, and pain, that’s all he remembers, that’s all he comprehends; all he knows.
He did not wake up.
He hadn’t even breathed his first breath when his eyes flew open and he was suddenly there.
Suddenly real.
Suddenly tangible.
So suddenly terrified.
Ray remembers running, and running, and running until he felt his legs shake under his weight and his chest clench painfully with the cardiovascular strain. At the time he had no clear reasons as to why? But he had questions, so many questions, but no one around to answer them. His mind buzzed with all his uncertainties as he put one leg in front of the other and breathed heavily through his nose. Where were the people he remembers, who were they? Who was he?
He finally stopped after who knows how many miles of straight sprinting; he remembered passing grass under his feet, feeling the limbs of Oak Trees snag his cape, the harsh cold of snow pelting against his face only to be replaced with biting rain soaked him to the bone.
As his limbs began to give out, Ray cast his gaze at the sky and soaked in the darkness of the sky, his eyes, behind droplet-covered glasses, scanned each white dot, and the large one that seemed to shine more than any of the others; the moon, he knew, that was the moon. Voices danced at the back of his mind, stories he doesn’t remember hearing, memories (though faint) that he doesn’t remember having.
He only remembered pain, and agony, and betrayal, and sadness; it was too prominent in his mind for someone who knew nothing. Ray breathed heavily and let his vision blur and arms go limp; he was so, so tired.
_._
“Glad you’re awake.”
Ray stirred, head turning from side-to-side, and before opening his eyes he felt the warmth scurrying over his exposed skin, and the softness of whatever was wrapped around him, it was comforting and welcomed. A pleasant smell assaulted his nose as he sat up and leaned back against, what he noticed was, a rock face, and finally his eyes drifted open and a warm glow filled his field of vision, as did a plate of food that was pushed in front of him and the calm smile of the one who was pushing it.
This stranger was, as far as Ray could tell, not a threat, then again he supposed the smell of food was persuading his decision to trust the other person, and it was only reinforced when he began to stuff his face with the bread, steak, and mushroom stew. He was too focused on his meal to notice the stranger walk to a different portion of the cave, where another small fire was burning steadily, and come back with Ray’s cape and suit jacket folded into a nice stack.
The stranger set down the clothing next to Ray and then sat himself a meter or so away from him as to not crowd him, and remained quiet until Ray finished eating. “You feeling better now?” The stranger wondered with a slight turn of his head.
Ray angled his head just enough to get a good look at the person, his rescuer, as it may; a tall-ish, slightly corpulent man with dulled orange hair that also formed a full beard on his chin, he had scars and looked to have many seasons of experience, but a loveable visage decorated with grassy green eyes. But, Ray speculated, there was something about him that didn’t match up to the rest of him, there was a sense of uncertainty and fear, he wasn’t arrogant or overconfident but he also wasn’t inexperienced, but something about him made him seem…naïve.
“Yes,” Ray mumbled quietly, his voice broken and strained for reasons unknown. “Thank you, very much.”
The stranger smiled warmly, “No problem. What’s your name?”
What was his name? No, he remembers, he thinks…
“Ray,” He said, and cleared his throat of the sound of his own uncertainty, “My name’s Ray Narvaez.” His throat hurt just by talking, he inferred that is was from his gut-decision to sprint across the world.
“I’m Jack.” The stranger- Jack, reached out and took Ray’s hand in a gentle handshake, “Patillo, that is. I’m no one important so you wouldn’t know the name anyway.” He smirked and released the other’s hand, but frowned and took it again, running stunningly soft digits over the equally surprising pale skin of Ray’s hand. “You’re fucking freezing, Ray.” He said worriedly, and Ray smiled just a bit at hearing his name used.
Jack jumped to his feet and hurried to a chest that was partially hidden in the crook of the cave wall, just out of reach of the flickering firelight; he pulled out a thick, brushed-over hide that he handed to Ray as soon as he returned to the fireside. “You need to keep warm, you seem to be ill from the cold and rain you were exposed to, I’m no doctor, but I know enough.” He looked back over his shoulder and sighed.
Ray followed his direction of sight to an odd contraption that stood a meter tall and exhaled a steady breath of smoke every few moments, in the small metal pockets that decorated its rim sat three transparent glass bottles filled with a shimmering silver liquid Ray was not familiar with.
Jack noticed his new companion’s confused gaze and smiled again, “I make potions,” He nodded towards the contraption, “That’s a brewing stand, I’m letting a potion of health brew for you; it’s taking longer than I thought.” He pointed out forlornly. After a few moments of silence he let out a quip of laughter and shrugged it off, “Sorry I probably seem pretty dull.”
Although numb and exhausted, Ray felt a tiny smile slip over his lips, “Not really,” His eyes caught Jack’s green ones when the potion maker looked up, “I don’t exactly have anyone to compare you to. And with that said; you’re the most interesting person I know.” He was quite proud of the laugh he got in response.
_._
When Ray woke up for a second time, there was no longer a fire, but the sun shone through the opening of the cave, and he heard cows mooing and chickens clucking, the breeze blew past him through the cave and brought with it a pleasant Autumnal scent that comforted him. Looking to his left where he believed Jack to have fallen asleep the previous night, he saw no one and a wave of panic began rolling through him head-to-toe until he heard a grunt from nearby outside.
So he pushed the stacks of blankets off of him and grimaced at the smell of himself, sweaty and grimy, and had only been incubated for an entire day due to his lack of consciousness; he made an immediate mental note to wash himself off as soon as possible. He reached for his jacket that he remembered Jack washed for him and pulled it on over his filthy button-up if only to mask his unpleasant odor for the time being.
As he shakily forced himself to his feet, he noticed a small white mask laying on top of his folded-up cape that he was pretty sure he had never seen before; he picked it up and held it carefully as he stepped out of the mouth of the cave and into the sunlight. It stung his eyes, and his pupils were mere dots in the brown expanse of his iris under assault of the bright rays. He reflexively reached up and put the mask on over his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the light aggravation. After a moment he adjusted and saw the trees and the blue sky, and the grand stack of stone and dirt that was the mountain at his back. It was incredible.
Moving his gaze he found Jack struggling with something, and upon further inspection, Ray smirked, he had his axe jammed about halfway into the tree and was trying with no success to pull it free. “Dammit,” The ginger mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for Ray to hear even from a few meters away. He pulled harder, using the full weight of his body and setting his foot against the tree for extra leverage, after a moment he succeeded in pulling free the tool, but also managed to throw himself backwards onto his back in the process; he landed with a painful oof and incidentally released his axe.
Ray laughed but quickly shut himself up when Jack turned to stare at him bashfully, “You okay man?” He asked the survivor with a big grin on his face. Jack hmphed and picked himself up, dusting off his shorts and shirt, ignoring the faint blush crossing his otherwise pale skin. In the motion, Ray couldn’t help but notice a strange discoloration of Jack’s collarbone that became visible when he shifted his shirt. “What’s that?” Ray asked, gingerly touching his own collarbone to indicate what he was talking about.
Jack looked up and then down at his chest, tugging the collar of his shirt back up and turning away, “It’s nothing. Just a part of my own personal sob story.” He chuckled and returned to hacking away at the tree. Confused, and surprised by the answer, Ray stood in place wearing an odd expression before scoffing only moments later after he watched the tree fall with a tremendous thud.
“Sob story? Must be a pretty interesting story, then.” He crossed his arms, just daring the self-proclaimed brewer to ignore his sub routed inquiries.
Jack breathed out heavily and rested the axe on his shoulder, first wiping his face and then shifting his shoulders to bring the axe down on the fallen tree, “When I spawned- er,” He stopped for a moment and waved his hand nonchalantly, “whatever you believe in, in that case-“ Another chop to the fallen trunk, “I spawned in fire and lava, and pain; it was dark and I didn’t know what to do and I got hurt. That’s all you really need to go on I suppose.” He tossed the axe to the ground and began rolling the cut circles of timber into neatly stacked piles.
There was still memory in Ray’s mind of such a place, not just a cave, he was pretty sure it was something different, something far more dangerous. “The Nether?” He mumbled quietly, mostly to himself, but Jack overheard and looked up, surprised.
“You know a lot for a newborn.” Jack stated in a partially disbelieving tone, and went back to dealing with the wood.
There was another bout of silence while Ray pondered and Jack worked until Ray realized something, “I don’t think I’m…what was it you said? Newborn. Yeah; I’m not.” He tried to explain, pretty much unsure of it himself, but something in his gut told him he was right.
Again Jack stopped what he was doing and threw Ray a confused look, and it was quiet for a few moments until Jack chuckled heartily, “I know you’re not a baby, but you weren’t born, you spawned, like I did, so in current slang you are a newborn.” He explained.
Ray shook his head, he had no argument, he just knew.
“I have memories, Jack. Memories of people and buildings and names…how do I explain that?” His voice was escalating into an unnecessarily overbearing octave, but dammit he was so fucking confused. “Like…who the hell is Courtney? Or Burnie? I don’t know who these people are but I’m pretty sure I would just get attached to two random names! So those facts being true, I don’t think I’ve only just been born.” He flinched just a bit and pulled himself back, “I don’t know. I really don’t.”
Jack said nothing for a long time, but he looked to be thinking, and it was absolutely agonizing for Ray to stand there and wait; upset and hurt and just tired. But he would wait as long as he needed if it meant Jack would come up with an answer, if he could provide any solace. At one point he followed instructions when Jack asked him to try and chop down a tree, which he could not seem to do, attributing it to the fact that he wasn’t very gifted in terms of upper body strength. And then again he waited.
“You were recreated.” Jack stated bluntly after a few minutes, and Ray only looked at him crookedly. The look on the ginger’s face was of complete uncertainty and confusion, “But only…are you- no, that’s not possible.” He mumbled to himself.
“What? What’s impossible?”
Jack rubbed his head and caught Ray’s gaze, “Adventurers. This supposedly extinct species of beings that solely have the ability to die but be born again only once.” His voice was so low it was almost impossible to hear him. “They say that the respawning processes your mind and body and spirit go through will leave bare remnants of your memories, but that, in exchange for another chance, you could never return to what you had. Like a catch, you see.”
It was proving to be a lot to take in in just a few short sentences, but Ray figured he understood the important bits, and he wished it brought him more solace that it did, “So, is that what I am?” Ray mumbled somewhat forlornly, “An Adventurer?”
Jack nodded, also looking a bit downcast and hesitant, “The one and only, so it seems.” He laid a gentle palm on Ray’s shoulder and offered a gentle smile, “Wanna talk about it?” And Ray grinned.