The Challenger

by Harlon Banks

  The Challenger: A Dark Fantasy Adventure

  c. Harlon Banks 2019

  The muscled man reluctantly reached back to feel his wound, fingers dabbing at where the injury should have been a bloody gash atop strands of blonde-ash. The wound was no more; the cut having very rapidly sealed itself over in the span of a couple of seconds. Confused and completely unable to remember absolutely anything before awakening at this moment, so many questions flushed in the stranger's mind. So many questions, yet not a single answer. A heavy exhale, followed by a tired grunt of discomfort as a burning sensation welled in his eyes then quickly faded; with it so did the soft glow that emanated from them. The howling of a pack of wolves somewhere in this vast forest of luminous plants and crystals met his ears. He had to move, the wilds were no place for the injured. Yet, where would he go? Who even was he? Where was he? How was he injured?

  He turned to his side, tucking his arms under his person followed by his legs and feet. A pause, an inhale, then an exhale and he in one motion pushed himself to his feet standing erect only for his legs to buckle and collapse him back on the soft dirt face first with a groan. A sharp pain had run up his right leg when he stood, making him wonder just how badly was he injured? Why didn't it heal like the blow to his head? Just as he thought about that question, the pain in his leg faded away. A new feeling of vitality coursing through his blood as the pain he felt all around began to fade into nothingness. A few moments later, and he tried again, heaving himself back to his feet and this time managing to stay bipedal as if everything was fine. His colorless eyes looking skyward at the dark starry night and the large moon hovering above as a calm and cool breeze brushed aside the bangs of his hair.

  "Where... ?" The boy spoke as he looked at his bloody glove and stained fingers again with a hazy look in his eyes. He felt weak, and fragile, why? What in the world happened that brought about such a terrible awakening?

  "How did... I can't..."

  He paused; the words themselves almost too incomprehensible to him to even say out loud. He tried to recall something, anything at all.

  Nothing...

  No recollection of how he got here or how he received his injuries; he didn't even remember his own name. Lowering his arm back to his side, he looked around the clearing of forest he was in for any clues...

  Nothing...

  There was yet another sudden sharp pain in his eyes that caused him to grasp his head in extreme discomfort before it all faded just as quickly as it came. Blood now streaming from his eyes and staining the fingers of his other hand now. He looked down when he withdrew his hand and opened his eyes again, vision blurry and erractic before clarity settled. His pupils had shifted, transformed so to speak, into a shape reminiscent of a Crescent Moon across vibrant glowing pale Melissaes and harder, more profound glowing limbal rings in both eyes. Accompanied by this pain and the shape change of his eyes came something drastically different about his vision as well. For now, everything was grey scaled across the spectrum save for something that caught his attention written on the tree a few meters directly across from him in incomprehensible scribbles he for some reason, was able to perfectly read. Unlike everything else, these markings etched into the tree were white with black outlining... Pulsing softly with strange energies.

  Know thy name, and remember... Jonath.

  "... Jonath?" The male whispered to himself in a very calm yet shaky tone; was that his name? Was that all that was written there? Upon saying the word out loud to himself the incomprehensible inscriptions across the tree shifted into another set of inscribing. His eyes glowing a bit brighter upon seeing the new set of symbols that made perfect sense to his mind, despite consciously not knowing anything about the symbols he were looking at. A resonance between his body and spirit welling up in his core, he could feel it. This odd and ominous sensation of the unknown spiraling within him as he read the next inscription aloud that formed a single phrase.

  Jonath repeated what he'd read reluctantly, the syllables and pronunciations sounding nothing grander than irrelevant noises vaguely reminiscent of language. Yet almost immediately saying these syllables out loud there yet again was a powerful burning sensation in his head accompanied by extreme pain. A powerful pulse from him sent out a wave of dark tinted silver aura into the air. Falling to his knees again, hands gripping clumps of his spiky platinum hair Jonath dug his nails into his flesh as he opened his mouth to scream only for nothing to come out. Powerful and ominous pale, ghastly essence swirling around his body; howling like the wind and rustling trees and blowing back fallen debris. Blood streaming down pained, burning eyes as he felt like he were suffocating. Robust ethereal chains sprouting from the earth beneath and snaring his limbs as if shackling him to restricting his movement. Each chain snapping at the base shortly after; one by one before vanishing as quick as they came, almost as if they were freeing him. Blood staining his face and on the verge of passing out, Jonath opened his mouth to scream out into the night for it all to stop...

  But then...

  Then it all faded away again; only his hard breathing being heard among the dead silence of the forest. His eyes returning to their original appearance and the glow vanishing as well once the pain subsided. His forehead kissing the ground in a prostrated pose, Jonath breathed easy. His inhales and exhales growing calmer and calmer before he was finally able to look up ahead and stare at the tree as well as something else that caught his attention. The inscriptions on the tree were no longer there; the plant looking uniform among a sea of others. Contemplating the meaning of the words he'd read, one made perfect sense, the second despite it making sense in his head when he read it aloud sounded nothing more than gibberish.

  Know thy name, and remember...

  What did that mean? Jonath didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore, all he had to cling to that gave any hint of what exactly happened to him and who he was, was the word 'Jonath'. Was that really his name? Thinking about all of this gave him a headache, left hand reaching up to caress the side of his skull again as trying to remember anything brought about mild headaches. As if something was stabbing him in the head repeatedly with a long dagger. His stomach felt queasy, the blowing breezes bringing about the faint smell of food off on the distance. That aroma upon hitting his nose causing his stomach to growl in hunger; the hunger pains surfacing as his core heaved urging him to head towards the scent. Cradling his left arm with his right, Jonath cast his pale hued gaze down to himself one last time. Noting in particular how lean and sinewy he was in terms of physical build. This body felt... strange.

  A scoff of disbelief escaping his lips, he didn't even remember what his own body looked like. How utterly sad...

  A step forward, and then another, and Jonath slowly made his way towards the scent along a crudely made dirt path through the bushes he'd stumbled across. Resting periodically against the husk of a fallen log or the trunk of a tree or even the girth of a boulder. His eyes taking in the many shades of glowing crystals that lit the way with the moon through this mysterious forest he had no idea about. Vibrant shades of blue, green and red all across the forest like a beautiful canvas of neon paint he couldn't help but pause every so often and just admire the scenery. Only returning to his initial mission when the hunger pains basically smacked him across the head and told him to keep moving.

  He walked for what seemed a full hour, amazed he was able to smell something from so far away so accurately. That aroma growing stronger with every step closer, his head raising to poke his nose in the air like a dog as the smell grew stronger and his stomach growled louder. The scent of cooked fish and meat causing him to drool almost as he stumbled forward catching himself and then moving more urgently than before. Another gentle breeze blowing itself across his
nose tempting him harder with the aroma of food. Crickets and fireflies all around glowing and chirping in the forest as if guiding and chanting to him he was almost there! Just a little more!

  Jonath broke out into a tired run; the hunger pains were unbearable at this point. He needed to eat something! That tired run very quickly turned into a sprint forward at a speed that Jonath wasn't ready for; eyes widening as he went faster than he anticipated and tried to abruptly stop! Feet skidding across the soft earth before he grunted as he fell forward into a tumble that sent him ahead and crashing through a thicket on the other side where he ended up on his side groaning yet surprisingly unharmed. Broken branches and leaves stuck to his ripped clothes and hair as he reached to irritatingly yank them off him and sit crissed crossed by himself in frustration. He was going to die of hunger, no matter how much he ran that smell seemed to never lead him anyw-

  "Are you alright there boy?" A withered and soft-spoken voice called out through the thicket. Jonath falling quiet and tensing up, slowly turning his head to gaze at the aged features of a man who looked to be in his late fifties pushing through the bushes. Pale eyes staring into the bland brown eyes of a dark-skinned weathered and frail man dressed in blue overalls, a white button up undershirt and hiking boots along with a large flat rimmed brown hat and shaggy black hair. He was a bit on the short side, probably no taller than five foot six and walked with a limp and a wooden cane. Jonath staring at him in silence, unsure of what to say or what to do. His mind going blank and his body froze like ice as he stared intensively. The old man gesturing harmlessly for him to come closer, turning half circle to point at the direction Jonath smelled that delicious food from.

  "It's alright son, I won't hurt ya now." The old man spoke, his voice frail and weak as was the laugh that followed. His features vividly showing the work of years being done on his face and the wrinkles that accentuated them. "I've got some food and a fire you can rest at. It'll get cold soon, always does around this time of hour." He gestured again. Jonath not budging an inch and continuing to stare with blank eyes of shock. Another jolt of hunger pain snapping him out of his deer in headlights moment, and the young man nodded slowly as he stood up and walked towards the old guy. Still holding his own left arm in discomfort as he passed the thicket upon a small campsite a few feet away where he now vividly heard the soft crackling of tinder and hay in the hearth of a fireplace. A small black tent posted up nearby as well as a spit for food roasting fish and meat over the flame and a chair nearby with a cooler at its side. The orange rays of light emanating from the fire flickering his shadow across the ground and tinting his face.

  "Just have a seat by the fire, you look hungry. I'll get you something to eat just hold on." The older man said pointing to the fire. Jonath watching him pass by in silence as he made his way to the cooler and began to rummage through it; Jonath himself walking over reluctantly and silently to the opposite side of the flame surrounded by small stones and sitting before it criss crossed rubbing his wrists. A shaky exhale escaping his lips as he relaxed, something about this man was soothing... he felt no danger being near him or felt any malevolence behind his words.

  "Got a name?" The stranger asked softly.

  Jonath peered over at the geezer approaching him with a damp rag that was cold to the touch. Holding it out for him to take and presumably wipe off the dirt on his person. Looking between the rag and the man, Jonath hesitated on how to answer that question, unsure himself of who or what he was... all he had, was what he saw.

  "... Jonath." The quiet young man said softly as he took the rag and wiped his face while looking into the fire. The silence that followed was brief, but profound nonetheless. He was a person with no history, family, or anything that had ties as long as he was aware... He wasn't even sure if what he'd seen earlier wasn't just a hallucination. Yet nevertheless...

  "My name... Is Jonath." He repeated, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself of that more so than the man helping him. This was the start of his legend; this was the start of his curse.

  Know thy name, and remember... Jonath!

  So begins, the tale of this weary Amnesic.

  Brief Consolidation

  The Challenger Chapter Two - Brief Consolidation

  The trees rustle in the wind and another flock of crows caw overhead as they soar across the night sky while crickets chirp rhythmical with the crackling flames of the tinder burning fire. Silver hair ruffling from the gentle breezes blowing across him, pale eyes staring at the cooked fish on a stick in his right hand while the warmth of the fire caressed his skin. A bit of hesitation and the food was brought to his lips for a quick bite and swallow. The old man across from him wiping his own face with a wet, white cloth and exhaling heavily while leaning forward in his uncomfortable metal chair.

  "Jonath huh? What an interesting name..." the man spoke rubbing the base of his chin and scratching his scraggly black beard. Jonath casting his gaze over to him upon hearing that comment; facial expression reluctant and confused as he said nothing. Eventually turning back to the food in his hand and bringing it up for another bite. He didn't know what to say in reply; there was nothing he could think of to make this conversation less awkward on him. What kind of story it'd be if this man just fed a guy who woke up an amnesic with no clue on even his own name and past. Jonath wondered if it'd matter keeping any of that a secret from him or if he should pretend he got lost and attacked by bandits or something as a cover up?

  "What happened to you? You look like you got into a fight with a pack of wolves judging by your clothes but you don't have a scratch on you." The old man asked inquisitively. Jonath tensing up suddenly and staring into space quickly trying to think of a reasonable thing to say that didn't make him sound like some runaway convict or serial killer. A few moments of silence and a slight strengthening of the grip on the stick of fish he was holding and the silver-haired amnesic replied in a soft-spoken tone...

  "I don't know; I woke up in the forest with no memories of anything. My clothes were already torn and I had a deep wound to my head that just up disappeared..." Jonath immediately regretted saying that after the words had already left his lips. Hearing himself having even said that sounded crazy and he was the one who experienced it. His eyes halfway closing in deep thought for a moment, peering towards the man with reluctance in his eyes as he saw the furrowed expression of the older gentleman looking at him with analytical stare. The staring between the two going on for what felt like ages to Jonath, his heart starting to race in his chest as his body began to shiver from the anxiety. Then much to his surprise after the intense and silent staring he'd been receiving from the geezer, the old man relaxed his gaze looking back to the fire.

  "That's a very strange way to come around, you don't remember anything huh? Not even how you got roughed up like that?" The man asked poking at the burning tinder with a small stick while waiting for a response. Jonath hesitating yet again, taking another bite of the fish on a stick and chewing quietly in thought. Eventually shaking his head in response without any verbal reply. The crackling of the flames filled the void of silence afterwards, another howl of wolves in the distance following close as well as if crying out to the moon.

  "I see. Well, crazy as it sounds I think I'll believe what you're telling me young man." The older gentleman's words sparked surprise in Jonath's eyes as he turned to look at him in quiet disbelief. The shaggy haired guy smiling back with a raspy chuckle before patting himself on the chest and clearing his throat. "Also, my name is Jeremy. Pleasure to meet you Jonath; you don't seem like a bad one at all." Jeremy introduced himself with a slight nod. Jonath returning the nod with a relieved smile of his own that he wasn't being interrogated. Jeremy grunted soon after, hoisting himself off the metal chair as Jonath finished off his food with a bit more vigor and enthusiasm.

  "Say Jonath," Jeremy spoke causing the platinum-silver hair amnesic to glance his way with a mouth full of food. Jeremy reaching into the cooler beside him rummaging
through it. A brow raised in waiting curiosity while the man sifted through a bunch of ice and drinks.

  "Apple, grape, mango, or kiwi?" Jeremy asked. Jonath swallowing and pausing for a moment in thought figuring he was talking about a flavor of a drink. He thought for a long moment, wondering if he even was able to remember the tastes of some of these fruits. Well, he wasn't a total amnesic he guessed otherwise he wouldn't even remember how to understand the language they were speaking. He was probably thinking too hard on himself. Putting the stick down at his side he opened his mouth to say,

  "Kiwi."

  A few seconds later a green can of juice was tossed to him which he caught with his right hand and stared at it a few seconds. Fingers shocked a bit by how cold it was and he almost dropped it. Jeremy grabbing a grape can out himself and sitting back down in his chair popping it open and looking at the fire. A content sigh escaping his lips after taking a long sip of the juice and putting it down by his fisherman boots. Jonath doing the same with his own drink after having popped it open and took a long drink that emptied half the can almost before setting it beside him. The two just sitting in blissful silence, both staring at the dancing flames of the fire and enjoying the peaceful nature of the woods around them. Minutes felt like hours, neither having said a word for who knows how long as if hypnotized by the movements of the flickering orange flames atop the fireplace.