Dark Soul Silenced - Parts One & Two

Chapter 1 He sat waiting on the lonely beach. He sat waiting for the dawn. He sat waiting for his death. The sky was already starting to lighten. He knew his vigil wouldn’t be a long one. As he waited he tried to pull his mind together, wanting to die as whole as possible. His name… that was gone. Gone beyond recall. So were all his memories older than a week or so. He knew he’d once had a name, knew he’d had memories. He could feel the gaps where they’d been. So much was lost. The first thing he could remember, vaguely, was riding through a forest. He thought it was a week ago but it could easily be more, or less. Time was another thing he’d lost. He remembered riding through the forest. He remembered a blur of movement to his side. He remembered being slammed out of the saddle… Maybe he was knocked unconscious. Maybe his memories following that moment were gone. The next thing he remembered was being trussed up on the floor, with a group of rough looking men standing around him… One of the men stepped forward. Their leader. “Well boys,” he said. “Looks like we’ve got a tough’n here. Riding the forest alone. He may be too tough for us. I reckon we should soften him up a bit.” The leader took another step closer, then kicked his victim in the stomach. The rest of the band joined in with shouts and curses. Again… a gap in his memory, though for that he was thankful. When he came to he was still lying on the floor. Every part of his body screamed in pain. His left eye was almost swollen shut. He was still tied up, though he doubted he could have moved let alone run off after the beating. Above him stood a figure. The leader, smiling down at him. “So you’re back with us again are ye? I told the boys you were tough. Well, we’ve had our fun. We’ve taken your horse, your sword, your money and your food. But we’ll leave you your life.” The leader turned away and for a moment a flicker of hope flared within. Maybe he would survive this after all. Suddenly the world lurched. He screamed in agony as he was lifted into the air by his bonds. He ended up hanging upside down, his head slightly above that of the leader. The leader turned back with a nasty grin. “Yep, we’ll leave your life. Leave it for the wolves. They get hungry you know!” The others laughed and jeered. The leader leaned in closer. “I’m not a cruel man, though. If you’re still alive in a few days we’ll come back for you.” This time there was no hope. He waited for the twist he knew must be coming. “We’ll come back and let you down a bit lower. So the wolves can reach you. Wouldn’t be fair to deprive them of a meal.” The others roared with laughter again. Then they were up and moving, leaving the clearing. Many landed a last punch to compound their victim’s pain. The next set of memories were seared into his brain. The pain from the beating compounded by the pain of being tightly trussed up and hung upside down. It was soon clear that struggling wouldn’t loosen his bindings, it just brought more pain. Nevertheless from time to time he did struggle, the agony of his position forcing him to try something, anything, even when he knew it would just make things worse. How long did he hang there? Days? Weeks? Months? It seemed far longer as he wept, screamed and raged against his fate. Yet it was only one day. One day that faded into evening and then night. The moon was already up as night fell so he was spared the horror of hanging in the dark, wondering what was out there. It didn’t ease the pain, though. Nor did it make time pass any more quickly. When the wolves finally padded into the clearing, silent as ghosts and glowing eerily in the moonlight, it was almost a relief. Almost. The wolves circled, sniffing him, studying him. His head was six or seven feet from the ground – easily within their reach if they jumped, he was sure. Before the first wolf could decide to leap a shadow fell over the clearing. The moon still shone but the clearing suddenly felt much darker. The effect on the wolves was startling. They crouched submissively, whining as they did so. Then they started to slink away, all casting nervous glances back as they left the glade. Then his memories completely fragmented. He remembered that… something… came out of the darkness. The pain in his body faded, replaced by a relaxed sleepiness that made trying to think much too difficult to bother with. He was cut down, that he remembered, lowered like a small child to the floor. But he couldn’t picture who did it at all. Then… warmth, safety, darkness. He’d felt safe from all harm. After that drinking, drinking something that burned as it went down his throat. Spirits of some kind. Finally darkness, true sleep.