Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Waves crashed against a sandy shore, pushing and pulling the land with relentless force. Your body went along for the ride, thrown up to land and pulled back to sea before you could get your footing. You coughed, sputtering out a mouthful of salt water and sand, before being dragged under again. Your tired arms shot out of the water, grabbing for something — anything — to save you from the depths, and hit the land. You clawed your way up the shore, stumbling out of the waves, ignoring the pain in your arms as though they threatened to tear in two. You collapsed on the grassy bank, heaving and coughing up an ocean of your own, and your body burned.

You were caked in sand, blood and dirt, and soaked down to your bones in seawater. Your wounds, hidden by your tattered clothes, were staining them and your surroundings a deep red. You felt warm, cold, wet, clammy, and overall disoriented. As your unfocused eyes caught on to the growing shadows that slowly stretched across the land from the setting sun, you realized that you couldn't stay here.

Shakily, you propped yourself up, wincing with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when your movements pulled at your cuts and scrapes. You didn't know how many there were, nor their severity, but you set off, hoping and praying to the spirits above that you'll find shelter for the night.

Your vision went dark, just for a moment.

You come to in a forest, leaning on a tree, your strength focused on keeping yourself upright. You feel lightheaded, your vision a buzz of black spots. How long has it been since you left the beach? You don't know. The shadows are inching closer, you need to go. You take a wobbly step forward, easing your grip and letting go of the tree.

Your vision went dark again, just for a minute.

You're on the ground, lying on your stomach in a patch of grass. The earth is tinted a warm orange from the sunset, triggering that nagging feeling inside of you that you aren't safe, that you need to go, go, go. You push yourself up with your uncooperative limbs, shaking from the effort, and force yourself to go on. You need to find shelter. You need to find safety.

Your vision went dark, just for a second.

Your face hurts, and you lift your head to find that you'd faceplanted just outside a forest. Your top lip feels warm, and the fleeting thought of a potential nosebleed floats through your muggy mind before being quickly swept away by your disoriented state. In the distance, a glimmer of light catches your eye; a village. Surely there's someone there that could help you. With a new goal, you awkwardly shove your way to your feet and hobble your way towards the village lights.

You trip over rocks, stumble over little mounds, and collapse at least once from a small hole in the earth that your ankle got caught in, but you manage to claw your way closer to the village. Desperate for someone — anyone — to help you, you call out, but your voice barely travels, crumbling and dying in your saltwater ravaged throat.

As the sun sank further and further in the sky, your body finally gives its all, and you collapse right outside the village gates. Broken and bruised, you gasp for air as your limbs shake from exertion. You hopelessly try to push yourself back up to at least a kneeling position, and as your vision blurs and black speckles float around the edges, a tall figure lumbers towards you from the safety of the village. They seem to be cautious, and you can feel their gaze boring into you. You lift your head, struggling as though it weighs a thousand tons, and meet the figure's gaze with your unfocused eyes. You can only mutter one word, your voice hoarse and weak.

"Help..."

Your body drops, and as the sound of the figure's footsteps growing closer reaches your ears, your vision goes dark once more, just for a second.

When you come to, there is a flurry of activity around you. You feel limp, and realize you are being held in someone's arms. You feel palms on your head, fingers on the side of your neck, someone is holding your limp hand in theirs and running their thumbs over your cut and dirtied knuckles. The world is blurry and faint, and yet still so sharp and bright. Your head hurts, your eyes hurt, everything hurts, and you have no energy to figure out what is going on and what is happening to you. As you begin to slump further into the arms of whoever is holding you, you listen to the vague and muffled cries surrounding your battered body.

"-cleric! Get the clerics!!"

"-hear me?"

"-gonna be okay-"

"-bleeding! There's a lot of blood!"

"Stay with us, honey."

Your breathing finally evens, and for the final time tonight, your vision goes dark, with sleep taking over you.

Chapter Text

You open your eyes.

You are in a bedroom, one that tugs on your heart in familiarity, but that isn't the first thing you noticed.

No, the first thing you saw was fire.

Sitting up, you realize you can move a lot easier than before you fell asleep, and take advantage of the maneuverability. You spring out of bed and run out the door, nearly falling into a hole in the hallway floor that the fire had eaten away at.

Catching yourself, you quickly turn on your heels, dashing towards and down the nearby stairs. As you run, you realize you cannot hear anything unusual. Instead of the crackling and popping of angry flames, you hear only a slight ringing, the kind of ringing that only stems from absolute silence.

You continue to make your way to the front door, but as you near it, another noise rises above the ringing, slowly yet surely.

Screaming.

Not just screams of surprise, or of children at play. No, these were screams of absolute fear and terror.

Screams of murder.

You slow down drastically just a few paces before reaching the door, not of your own volition, but as though you were being held back. As if something were trying to keep you from exiting the house.

You turn to look at the stairs. Fire ate away hungrily at the steps and railing, pieces of the ceiling were falling and caving in behind you. The house was coming down, whether you stayed inside or not.

You throw yourself at the door, your salvation from the flames.

The door opens easily.

You are surrounded by nothing.

A void of pitch black darkness.

.

.

.

You wake up.

You go to throw yourself up and out of bed, but a wave of pain through your torso forces you back down before you even get halfway to a sitting position.

"Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy there."

You turn your head, and meet the gaze of someone rising from a chair across the small room you were in. Their light purple eyes were locked onto you, and they crossed the room quickly, a worried look on their face.

"Please, be careful," they said, now at your bedside, checking you over a bit for possible damage. "I'd hate for you to get hurt more. If you want to sit up, let me help you at least!"

They place an olive-toned hand on your back, helping to ease you into a sitting position. It still hurt, even with the help. It hurt a lot.

After making sure you wouldn't fall out of bed, the new person excused themself and hurried off into a side room, their black low ponytail bouncing as they went. At least, now that you're alone, you could get a good look at your surroundings.

You are wearing a light blue medical gown, one with sleeves that ended mid-upper arm and with a hem that ended just below your knees. It was made of a soft, comfortable material, one that you couldn't help but absentmindedly run your fingers along repeatedly for comfort. You noticed that underneath, you're wearing a white tank top and black shorts, and an uncomfortable thought rose for a second; you were changed out of your clothes. It made sense to do so; the clothes were coated in sand, mud and blood, which was getting in the way of your treatment, but the gross feeling still wormed its way in, just for a moment.

The walls are smooth and oaken, and the floor was a white tile that shined slightly in the light. The whole room was very clean, albeit a bit small, with only one other unoccupied bed inside, located to your right. The beds have clean, light blue blankets and fluffy white pillows that you could get lost in forever, which really helped with the state of your body.

A few chairs and a table sat at the opposite wall, and a door sat off to the side of it, which was where that person had disappeared to. On the wall to your left was a decently sized window, letting in golden rays of light from the sun, and it appeared to be almost mid-day outside. Through the window, you could see some of the villagers going about their day, noting a fisherman with his rod, some villagers talking near a quaint home, and a group of children playing and running around.

Your absent observations were interrupted by the person returning, this time holding a bottle of red liquid.

"Here, a healing potion," they uncork the bottle and gently press it towards you. "Drink up, this should help you heal a bit faster and take some of the pain away."

You do as you’re told, shakily bringing the bottle to your lips and downing the contents. It went down smooth, tasting sweet and slightly sugary with melon undertones. As you finished, you could already feel the aches and pains fading away into memories.

"Better?"

You nod, passing the bottle back to a ready hand. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome! I'm happy to help!"

The person sets the bottle and cork on the table across the room and picks up a paper that you hadn't noticed before. They return, dragging a chair over and sitting next to your bed.

"As per policy, since you are a traveler, I have to ask a few questions now that you're awake. I hope you don't mind."

Questions? You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow.

"It's nothing too personal, don't worry," they shake their hands in front of themself to waft away any of your worries. "It's just to figure out who you are, how you got here, and how to help you."

That seems reasonable, you think.

"Citizens have to answer questions too, when they end up here, but it's usually just about what happened to them. Don't worry, you're not being singled out or anything."

They pick up the paper, reading over the first few questions, before looking back up at you.

"Okay, first question. What's your name?"

"Y/N." You easily reply.

"Lovely! My name is Alice, it's nice to meet you, Y/N. Although, it would've been preferred to meet in... better circumstances."

You give a small laugh, and Alice continues her questioning.

"Question two, are you alone?"

You blink.

"I mean, was there anyone else with you that might need a rescue or search party? Were you traveling with a friend or family member?"

"Oh... then, no."

"Okay," she notes your response. "Question three, what do you remember regarding how you arrived in town?"

You pause, turning the question over in your head as though it were the world's hardest math problem, trying to see it from every angle. You wracked your brain; what did you remember? The only thing that came to mind was you washing up on the beach, coughing up seawater, dragging your broken body through forests and plains to beat the timer that is the sunset. You remember passing out outside the village, and being held by someone while people clamored around you. You remember blinding lights, frantic voices, and pain.

You remember all that, but nothing before. What was your life like before? How did you end up here?

"Y/N?"

You look at Alice, who was looking at you in confusion, worry etched on her brow.

"Do you not remember much?" she asks finally.

That was one way to put it. You remember so little, yet so much. What you remember versus what you should is comparable to a book and a library. You decide to simply nod to her question, and she takes it as fact.

"Okay then, question four," she sets the paper on her lap. "How do you feel?"

"I mean... I feel fine," you say. "Better than I was before."

Alice chuckles at that.

"And the last question. Do you have anywhere to go?"

You pause once more, a faint memory of a fire coming to the forefront of your mind, but you are unsure if it is a true memory or a memory of your strange dream. Based on your limited knowledge of where you came from, you don't even know where you could go if given the chance.

You shake your head.

"I see. That means we'll have to talk to Cleric Alden."

Alice seems to sense your confusion, so she quickly clarifies.

"He's the head of the Clerics. He's the one in charge, the leader of our village. I wouldn't worry too much about it, he's a genuinely great guy. Very sweet, gentle. Loves everyone here like they’re his children."

Alice stands back up, paper in hand, and offers her free hand to you. You stare at it, confused, before Alice laughs.

"Ah, I guess you aren’t from one of the villages that use potions. Try standing up."

A bit skeptical, you slowly take her hand, and she quickly pulls you up to her level. You panic a bit, thinking you're about to collapse from the inevitable pain, but are even more surprised to find that you feel none.

You're completely healed.

You quickly check over your visible skin. The cuts and scrapes on your arms are gone. The bruises and lacerations on your legs have vanished. Your nose, broken from last night's sudden date with the floor, feels better than ever before.

You grin with excitement, glancing up to Alice, who was smiling too.

"Let's get you ready. I could take you to meet Cleric Alden right now, or we could let you wander around and get acclimated first; whichever you'd like."

"I think I'd like to meet him."

"Great!" Alice said, guiding you through the door. "We have some spare clothes for you to change into, and then we'll be on our way!"

The new room seems to be a storage room. There are three doors, with one obviously being a bathroom. The second door was the door you just came through, and the third one you could only assume leads to outside.

Alice looks over a group of chests clumped together, all labeled “Clothes” but with a number on each.

"What's your size?"

"2 blocks."

“On the dot?”

You nod, and Alice opens the chest labeled “Clothes - 2”

"Alright. Any preference on color? Design?"

"No, not really, grab what you think is good. I’ll wear anything."

She sifts through clothes a bit, pulling out some to give a once-over before putting them back in, seemingly having decided that they weren’t good enough.

After pulling out a few articles of clothing she deemed fit, she placed them into your hands before ushering you to the bathroom nearby.

"Let me know when you're ready to go, okay?"

"Okay."

With that, the door closed, and you were alone.

You looked over your new clothes; a tan short sleeved shirt and black cuffed pants. Not bad. She had also given you the regular necessities; some new undergarments, a pair of socks and a pair of charcoal gray shoes.

You change, folding the gown neatly out of respect, and carry it and your other worn clothes out, placing them on a table with a pile of clothes labeled "Used".

"Are you ready?" Alice asked, walking back in from the other room.

"Yeah."

"Then let's go! No time to waste!"

You smile a little, before following Alice to the door.

You may not remember much, but you get the feeling that this new place is going to be quite memorable.