Aiden's eyes snapped open to a sky the color of ash. Gray clouds churned above, heavy and oppressive, as if the heavens themselves were mourning. He lay sprawled on damp earth, the chill seeping through his clothes, biting at his skin. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder that he was alive—though he couldn't remember how or why.
He sat up slowly, his muscles aching as if he'd been lying there for days. The landscape around him was bleak: twisted, leafless trees clawed at the air, their branches like skeletal fingers. The ground was a patchwork of mud and wilted grass, and a thick mist clung to the earth, swirling around his ankles. The air smelled of rain and decay, a scent that tugged at something deep within him, something he couldn't name.
Where am I?
The question echoed in his mind, but no answer came. He tried to recall how he'd gotten here, but his memories were a blank slate, as empty as the desolate land before him. Panic began to rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down, forcing himself to focus. There was one thing he knew, one word that surfaced like a lifeline in the void of his mind.
Aiden
His name. It was all he had.
He staggered to his feet, his legs unsteady beneath him. The mist parted as he moved, revealing more of the bleak terrain. In the distance, he could make out the silhouette of a ruined village—crumbling stone walls and thatched roofs half-collapsed, as if the weight of sorrow had crushed them. A faint, mournful wail carried on the wind, sending a shiver down his spine.
Aiden took a tentative step forward, then another, drawn toward the ruins despite the unease gnawing at him. As he walked, fragmented images flashed through his mind: a bustling city street, the laughter of children, the warmth of a sun that wasn't this cold, distant orb hidden behind clouds. But the images slipped away as quickly as they came, leaving him grasping at shadows.
Was that… my world? he wondered, but the thought felt alien, like a dream he couldn't quite recall.
A sudden rustling broke the silence. Aiden froze, his breath catching in his throat. From the mist emerged a creature—ethereal and smoky, its form shifting and wavering like a half-forgotten memory. It hovered inches above the ground, its eyes two hollow voids that seemed to pull at his very soul.
Instinctively, Aiden raised his hand, as if to ward it off. But when his fingers brushed against the creature, a jolt shot through him. The world around him dissolved into darkness, and visions flooded his mind.
He saw a village—not the ruined one before him, but vibrant and alive. People laughed and worked, children played in the streets. Then, a shadow crept over the land, devouring everything in its path. Screams echoed as memories were ripped away, leaving only emptiness. The word Oblivion burned into his thoughts, a name that carried the weight of annihilation.
The vision shattered, and Aiden stumbled back, gasping. The creature was gone, dissolved into nothingness at his touch. His hand trembled as he stared at it, bewildered by what had just happened.
What was that? he thought, his mind racing. Did I… destroy it?
Before he could process the strange encounter, a sharp clang of metal rang out behind him. He whirled around to see a figure charging through the mist, clad in gleaming armor that seemed out of place in this dreary land. A woman, her dark hair tied back, wielded a sword with precision, slashing through shadowy figures that lunged at her—more of the smoky creatures, memory-wraiths, as he now knew them to be.
She dispatched the last of them with a swift strike, then turned her gaze to Aiden. Her eyes were sharp, assessing, and for a moment, neither spoke. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken questions.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice steady but laced with suspicion. "How did you destroy that memory-wraith?"
Aiden opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. I don't know, he wanted to say. I don't know who I am or how I did that. But instead, he managed, "I… I'm Aiden. I saw something—the Oblivion. It was… consuming everything."
The woman's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. "You saw the Oblivion?" She sheathed her sword, though her posture remained guarded. "Few can perceive it directly. What are you?"
"I don't know," Aiden admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I woke up here with no memories. I don't even know where 'here' is."
She studied him for a long moment, as if weighing his words. Then, her expression softened, just a fraction. "You're in the Realm of Sorrow, one of the many realms of Elysium. It's a place where memories of loss and grief take form. But you—" She gestured to the spot where the memory-wraith had been. "You did something to that wraith. You didn't just destroy it; you… absorbed it, didn't you?"
Aiden nodded slowly, still trying to make sense of it himself. "When I touched it, I saw its memories. The village, the people… and then the Oblivion came."
The woman took a step closer, her eyes searching his face. "That's no ordinary ability. In Elysium, memories are power. To manipulate them… that's rare, dangerous even." She paused, then added, "But perhaps it's what we need."
"We?" Aiden echoed.
She straightened, her demeanor shifting from wary to resolute. "My name is Lila, a warrior from the Realm of Courage. I've been tracking the spread of the Oblivion. It's not just here—it's devouring memories across all the realms, unraveling the very fabric of Elysium. If you can truly interact with memories, you might be able to help stop it."
Aiden's mind reeled. Stop the Oblivion? He barely understood what was happening, let alone how to wield this strange power. But something in Lila's words stirred a sense of purpose within him, a flicker of determination amidst the confusion.
"I don't know how to control it," he confessed. "But if there's a way I can help… I want to try."
Lila nodded, a hint of approval in her gaze. "Then come with me. There's a sanctuary not far from here, a place where those who resist the Oblivion gather. We can figure out what you're capable of—and perhaps uncover why you've been brought to Elysium."
Brought to Elysium? The phrase lingered in Aiden's mind, raising more questions than answers. But he pushed them aside for now. He had a path forward, however uncertain, and that was enough.
As they set off through the mist, the ruins of the village fading behind them, Aiden couldn't shake the feeling that his arrival in this world was no accident. The Oblivion, his lost memories, the power he wielded—somehow, they were all connected. And he was determined to find out how.
But as they walked, a faint whisper echoed in the back of his mind, a voice that wasn't his own: Beware, Aiden. Not all memories are meant to be reclaimed.
He glanced at Lila, but she showed no sign of hearing it. Swallowing his unease, he pressed on, the weight of the unknown settling heavily on his shoulders.