Disclaimer: I own nothing, well, except for my own characters and plot. Otherwise, nothing is mine :(

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Darkness. That's all I see. I move my body, but there's nothing there. Is this a dream? Probably. Why do I feel so helpless? If it's just a dream…

This is a dream. It has to be. I'm still alive… aren't I? Wait… a red glow in the distance. What is it? I approach it, but it doesn't get any closer. Where am I?

A blinding flash of light. I cover my eyes, but my paws are as black as the darkness. The place is lit up, and I see a large, circular room. Have I been here before? My memory fails me. I see something move. I take a closer look. A ferret.

I see the ferret on the ground. It looks at me with cold blue eyes. It's holding a dagger, but it can't hurt me. I know this because of the blood stained clothes, and the sword that goes all the way through him.

"What is this?" I ask. The ferret gives me a cold smile and answers.

"This is your past."

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Morning rays illuminated the room where Avery slept. The squirrel yawned and stretched, waking up from a disturbing sleep. He didn't remember what the dream had been about, but he remembered it was disturbing.

He got up and looked around. It was a small room, small but cozy. He had stayed in it since the beginning of winter, when he had been warned by a group of Hedgehogs that it would be tough to travel in the storm and snow. He'd looked for a place to stay, and found a pleasant family of mice that let him stay with them.

Avery had been traveling across the land for as long as he could remember; which wasn't much, since he could only remember the last two seasons or so. He was used to strange dreams, ones that haunted him at night but couldn't remember upon waking up.

He looked down at himself. His fur was mostly black, with specks of dark brown in different places. The brown was almost unnoticeable, so it looked like he was all black fur. He wasn't too tall, a bit shorter than average, in fact, but he was lean and thin.

He heard someone moving around in the house. It was probably the youngest of the mice, up for a little snack. He smiled and got up, thinking it might be fun to scare her. He sneaked quietly behind her, and as she turned around he jumped in front of her.

She looked frightened for a second, then smiled and laughed. He smiled at her too and walked away, back to his room. He lay back on his bed, thinking. While scaring the little mouse he had felt something, like a memory trying to be noticed. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the time, a season ago, when he had woken up without any idea who he was or where he was.

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"Hey, mate, I found 'un!" The voice of an otter sounded above me. I opened my eyes, and found an otter standing above me. I was on the ground.

"Where?" I heard a different otter's voice. Turning my head, I saw another one looking down at me. "Are you sure it's one of them?" It, or rather he, asked.

"Look at it's fur, Will, what do you think?" The other one answered.

"If it really was one of them, wouldn't it be trying to run away?" The one called Will responded.

I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that my head hurt horribly and that I felt a strange instinct to run away as far as my legs could carry me.

"Looks like it has a name…" The otter said, looking down at something on the floor. He picked it up. It was a sword. "This yours?" He asked, talking to me for the first time.

I didn't know what do. Was it mine? I shrugged, and the otter looked at me strangely. He turned the sword over and looked at the hilt. "Hey Will, come and read this for me." He passed the sword to the otter known as Will. He looked at it.

"It says Avery. Is that your name?" He asked me. Feeling even dumber I shrugged again. "Well, as far as my knowledge of swords go, this is a good sword. And it looks a lot like one of theirs, though with a different design." He continued, looking at the markings on the sword. He looked at me again. "Do you know anything?" I thought for a moment, but my mind was like an empty shell. Or, more like a locked door, and I had lost the key to it.

The two otters took my silence as a no. "Well, if it's not yours you wouldn't mind me keeping it, would you?" The otter that was not Will asked. I didn't know why, but anger flared inside me. I jumped up and snatched the sword away with skill I was unaware I had. The two otters stood there, looking at me, for a few seconds. My instinct was screaming at me to leave, to run, to get away from the otters, but my legs would not respond.

"So you are one of them, aren't you?" Will asked, taking a few steps closer to me. With a trained eye I saw him reach for a weapon, and it was then that I began running. I ran as fast as I could, trusting my instinct and not looking back. I felt something pass next to my ear, an arrow.

I ran until I couldn't, then I fell to the floor, exhausted and with a painful headache.

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Avery opened his eyes again. The memory made his head hurt, since it brought so many unanswerable questions. After he had woken up he had began traveling, and he had learned to hide his sword from view. Whoever 'them' were, many beasts around the area knew of them and were afraid. He was attacked many times only to survive by trusting his instincts, which often told him to do strange things.

Not that long ago he'd heard from a traveling shrew that there was a place to the south called Wallred, or something of the sort. The shrew had said that it was an abbey, filled with beasts and food, that helped out any beast in need.

The place had sparked something in his memory, but he couldn't put his paw on it. All he knew was that he had to go to that abbey, for reasons he left his unconscious mind deal with. He heard a knock on the door, and a second later the small face of Mibbie, The mouse wife, appeared at the door. "D'you want breakfast, Avery?" She asked kindly. He smiled and nodded, she turned around and went out the door.

No one knew how old he was, since he didn't know himself. He knew he was still in his youth, but whenever other beasts met him they told him there was just something about the way he acted that hinted at maturity past youth. He knew staying in the room would do him no good, so he got up and went to the dinning room, where plates were already set and the rest of the family was chatting carelessly about one thing or another.

He uttered a unenthusiastic 'good morning' and sat down on an empty chain. The little mouse maid that he had scared that morning looked at him and smiled.

"Good monin" She said in a cheery voice. Breakfast was usually a cheerful affair at that house, one of which Avery usually participated in. That morning, however, Avery's mind was elsewhere. He had looked out the window and noticed that the snow had began to melt, and that winter would soon be over. He was quiet during breakfast, listening rather than talking.

"I suppose ye won't be with us much longer, Avery?" Mibbie asked him after they had finished breakfast.

"No. I have to leave soon, I want to get there as soon as possible." He said. He'd told them about the abbey, but none of them seemed to have heard of it. The mouse known as Harvy, Mibbie's husband stood up.

"I reckon ye can leave by today if ye have the proper gear." He said. Avery wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a bit of urgency in the mouse's voice. He nodded. "If you would like, I could give you some of my old winter clothes so you could go." He suggested. Avery nodded.

It was cold outside, and the snow covered the land as far as Avery could see. The mouse's house was built into a cave, so he wasn't able to see the whole landscape until he went out. Harvy was going to accompany him until he reached the forest, which was a few minutes walk away from their home.

Avery wrapped his clothes closer to him as he began to walk. A look backward and he saw the whole family waving goodbye. He raised his paw and waved at them a few times before turning back and continuing to walk.

"Listen… I- have to tell you something." Harvy said once they'd reached the forest. Avery's instinct began to act, telling him to leave. He didn't listen to it. What could a mouse that had helped him during a whole season do to him?

"Yes?"

"I- I think I know where you're from." He said. I looked at him, a question half-formed in my mouth. "Quiet! I'm not going to tell you what I believe, but I can tell you one thing; you don't want to know." Avery continued to stare at him, not sure what to think. "I'm no longer able to help you, or keep you from the truth, but when you find out, don't let it interfere."

"With what?" Avery asked. He didn't understand why Harvy was saying all of if. "If you know something about me, tell me! I want to know." He said. Harvy shook his head. Avery felt anger rise in him. Why did the mouse do that?

"Just- just remember what I said." He said and turned back. "Ill probably never see you again." Before he could stop himself, he made a movement with his paws. One went behind his back and another one looking for something around his arm. He stopped what he was doing. Had he been an archer also? If so, what had he been about to do? He shuddered at the thought and put both paws down beside him. He began to walk into the forest, not bothering to check his compass and only mildly surprised when he noticed he had been walking in the right direction anyway.

He walked for the rest of the day, although he knew he didn't get too far. He stopped for lunch around midday and stopped walking when the sun set. He climbed up a small tree, one without any leaves and covered in snow. He watched the snow fall as he shook the branch a little and tried to make himself comfortable.

He thought of many things he'd tried to ignore as he sat there, looking up through the snow covered branches at the sky above. Like how he was easy to anger by a single comment that seemed not to matter to anyone else. It was as unexplained as the bird now flying down toward him.

He looked at it, hardly noticing it while his mind was off doing other things, when he felt a sharp pain in his ear. He looked over at the bird, which was perched next to him. It had pecked him in the ear.

"Hmm… Well, ye'll 'ave t' do, aye." It said, fixing him with a silent and fierce stare. Avery backed away a little. "Don't ye shy away now, tree mouse. I need yer help" Avery looked at him, confused about what to think.

"What do you need help with?" He asked. Whatever it was, he doubted he had a choice in the matter. That beak looked dangerously sharp.

"I jus' found a body, I did. Aye, a weerel one." Avery looked at the bird. He supposed 'weerel' meant weasel, but there was just no way to tell with these creatures.

"What do you need help with?" He asked, his voice cautious.

"I need ye t' see if 'e's among th' livin." Avery looked at the bird. It's accent was beginning to annoy him, so the quicker he dealt with it the sooner he'd be able to sleep. He didn't bother telling the bird that it could have easily checked that itself, but followed a good distance away as the bird led him to the 'weerel'.

They walked (or at least Avery did) for about five minutes before stopping next to what seemed to be a furry lump. A closer look told Avery that it wasn't a furry lump, but a ferret. A living ferret. Something struggled to rise in his unconscious as he watched the ferret draw deep, ragged breaths. He carefully turned it over, and once he did he saw a dagger embedded into the ferret's stomach. He removed it carefully, expecting to see blood begin to dribble out of the wound again.

He put the dagger down beside him and examined the ferret. It wasn't too old, a bit older than him, if he were to place a guess. It was also a male. He didn't seem to be wounded other that the hole in his stomach, but he probably wouldn't survive anyway, with a big hole in his stomach and hardly a coat.

He turned around to tell the bird the ferret was alive, but it was gone. He shrugged to himself and looked down at the ferret. He sighed and picked up the dagger on the floor, looking at some markings at the hilt. The hilt had a blue dagger drawn on it. He wiped the blood off of it on the snow and a bit of cloth, then put it in his pocket. He looked over at the ferret again, somehow feeling responsible for him. He sighed at his own stupidity and picked the ferret up by his arm. He put it around his own shoulder and began to walk back toward his 'camp'.

He lay down in the snow, too tired to get back up on the tree. He'd taken out a spare blanket and wrapped it around the unconscious ferret. He'd then made a small fire to melt the snow around them. He watched as the embers of the fire burned the twigs and pieces of bark he'd thrown in. A few thoughts clouded his mind.

What was he doing in the middle of a frozen forest, sitting by an unconscious ferret? Weren't ferrets considered vermin? Wasn't it the belief of most 'good beasts' to be cautious around vermin, as they were treacherous? Yet, as part of his mind thought those disturbing questions, another part didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with the situation.

He watched the embers a little while longer, thinking about other things and finally managing to fall asleep.

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(A/N: This is my first attempt at a story like this, so please R&R. Anything's helpful, I need to know how good it was. Thanks!)