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Rated: E · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1892938
My first story on here, just kind of making something up.
         The forest was dim, I could barely make out the path I was trying to navigate. My feet kept moving, I just didn't know where they were headed. I tried to remember, but it was as if I couldn't access my thoughts. Nothing, I couldn't remember anything. For some reason this didn't panic me. I just kept moving.
My mind snapped back to it's normal state. I halted, observing my surroundings. I knew this place, the woods behind my Grandma's house. However, I didn't know that voice.
"Laerke, where are you going?"
Turning around, I beheld a tall, lanky boy. He was pale, and had long blonde hair. I also noticed that his ears were pointy, they protruded from his braided hair. His green eyes exposed his confusion. He seemed so... out of this world. If there was ever a better portrayal of perfection, I would love to see it. This scared me, though. Something so perfect must be dangerous, it always was. How did he know my name? Why does he care where I'm going?
"Who are you?" I meant to sound friendly, but it came out a little harsh.
He stopped, and the confusion in his eyes was replaced with... humor?
"You don't remember, do you? That must have been a cruel fall." He laughed.
A fall? What is this dude talking about? I sighed in frustration, "What are you talking about? I never fell..."
Raising an eyebrow, he laughed again. "Oh, so the wound on your forehead randomly appeared this morning?"
I lifted my hand to touch my forehead, and felt a gash instead. I cringed in pain, when did that get there? It must have been awhile, because there was no blood when I looked at my hand. I then looked up at this stranger. Did I really fall, and was he there? Did he give me this?
"How did I get this? What happened?"
He pointed behind him, "There is a cliff behind us. Further back down the trail. We were climbing down, you were trying to climb down, and you slipped. That's how you earned that scratch."
"Scratch? From what I felt I think I need stitches."
Shrugging, he said, "I tried to take you back to the village. They can mend it. Instead, you ran away like I was a troll and now were having this conversation."
I was really getting scared. This guy is crazy. "There are no trolls, or cliffs and villages. This is my Grandma's backyard. Who are you?" If he doesn't answer this time, I'm leaving.
"Ah, you forgot everything. Well, you we-" his emerald eyes darted to the left. Unsheathing a sword, he pushed me behind him in an effort to protect me. I smacked into a tree, and it was black.

"Laerke. Dinner is ready." I heard Grandma's voice, and felt her nudging me. The warm smell of mashed potatoes and roast filled the air. I slowly opened my eyes.
"Okay, I'll be there in a minute."
My head hurt, and the forest was now the guest bedroom. I sat up, a wave of dizziness pushed me back down, but I gradually lifted myself up again. The sound of rain drizzling came from near the window. I climbed out of the bed, and ambled over to it. The woods were the same as they had always been, and Brego was barking and scattering after a squirrel. I turned away and towards the mirror. My dark hair was a mess. It looked like I had rubbed balloons against it. Eyeliner was smudged under my eyes, combined with dark circles. I must not have slept well. Not to mention I was still wearing the skinny jeans, long-sleeved thermal, and blue rain jacket from yesterday. My lips were as dry as the Sahara, I picked up my bag and unzipped the smallest pocket. As I smeared Carmex all over my mouth, I turned back to the bed to find my phone. A folded piece of paper was sitting on the nightstand, addressed to me. Setting the Carmex down and replacing it with the letter, I sat on the bed. It smelled like the gloomy forest from last night. Everything rushed back to me. The woods, the questions, the mysterious man. Or boy, he looked pretty young. Scary, though. He was scary and beautiful. Too bad I'll never see anything like that again.. dang. I traced the edge of the paper with my fingertips, looking at how my name was written on it. Laerke. It's actually spelled right for once. The penmanship was lovely, it looked as if someone had typed it. I eagerly unfolded the paper.

I'm terribly sorry about last night. I was called upon to take you back to my home, safe and sound.That was not the case, as you know. I was taking you to heal your gash when an ork came bounding into our meeting. I fought him off, and brought you back here. You should think about this, if you want to go with me. I won't force you, but we need you. Again, I'm very sorry about the wound!

Nuadar? That was his name? I guess an outlandish name is appropriate for such a foreign person. What was he talking about? Go with him? Need me? All of this is too much for me on an empty stomach. I felt as if I was going to faint. I stuffed the letter into the drawer and went to wash up and change, and make up a story about my gash. Then I could eat dinner with Grandma before I thought of Nuadar and his creepy village quest.
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