Hello. My name is Aislin. I'm not here to make small talk with you. I came to warn you. You nay not know it now, but the world will come to an end. You don't have to believe me, but know that I come from a world you may not understand. I've seen what's going to happen, and unless you don't want anything bad happening, I suggest you listen to what I have to say. Your lives are in jeopardy, and I only know of one person who can help you. You may think me crazy for even suggesting him, but if you want to see the light of day again, you will try to cope with it. His name…is Braeden.
The night was as black as the deepest pits of hell. The moon never rose, the sun never shined, and the stars never shed a sliver of light upon the barren ground. There was sand littered everywhere, covering the landscape and making it appear…almost lifeless. I could stare at my ripped and dingy scarf blowing in the parched wind and tell you just exactly what was happening outside. There was the faintest hint of movement from my left before the noise died down and it was quiet once again. I could make out the sound of the sand hitting the side of the decrepit building I resided in, making the strangest scratching noise that was oddly comforting to the two people that traveled with me. I'm trying to reach out to someone – anyone – out there, constantly trying to communicate to the survivors – if only two more – that might be out there still, trying to survive in this barren wasteland. Looking up at this sky that held no moon or stars, I wondered briefly if maybe, somewhere out there, someone would hear this message and answer my call.
Silverfox Castle, 3042
I was training in the garden when my teacher and friend of five years walked out of the main building, a deep frown marring his face. "Aislin, my dear, I need to talk to you." Taking my arm in his grasp and leading me to his private study, he gently pushed me into a sitting position; him taking a seat in front of myself. What could possibly be so troubling that my teacher has to call me out of my training to talk to me? "What is it, teacher?" I asked. We stared each other down for a few brief moments before he started to reply, "I-!" Shuffling from the other side of the door was heard before it fell silent. "Féadfaidh an unbelievable fuaime ar dtús, ach creidim le do thoil agam." He spoke in our native tongue, Gaelic, knowing that something we said might be heard and reported. "What?" "Caithfidh mé a fhágáil chun troid i gcoinne dul dóibh siúd nach labhraíonn muid de." Speechless. Not a word came forth from my mouth that I could reply to him with. I stared. He stared. We kept staring, him waiting on my reply, me unable to give it to him. "Chan eil mi a' tuigsinn." Finally, I gave him a reply. "Tha mi duilich." Then the world went black.
Opening my eyes, I looked around the empty building, trying to figure out where the memory cane from. It was almost like the memory was from a previous life, although I knew it wasn't. Sighing to myself, I rose from my seat on the broken windowsill, jumping down the few stories to touch the ground. I never scouted anymore. Everything was dead, so there was no need to do any work. On the safe side, I made sure to check when moving with the two people with me – just for their security. Scanning the surrounding darkness, I realized how quick I became accustomed to the black that blanketed the world. Like a night crawler, I crept through the darkness, knowing full well that I was not alone. I checked to be sure that I brought my bow and arrows, double-sided spear, and dagger with me, noticing I was missing my dagger. Shifting was heard to my left. I spun, drawing my spear and holding it confidently at my side. More shifting. And then…it pounced. Like a predator in the night, I became the prey. Cursing under my breath, I took a faulty step back before it attacked, just nicking me in the side. Red – as deep as the red on a rose - poured from the wound this thing had inflicted on me. Pain shot through me for the briefest fraction of a second before I had to counter its next attack. More red splattered the sand and desecrated trees before this beast gave one, last mighty roar before falling – like an elephant – to the ground. Panting, I made sure this beast was dead by severing its head, watching as more red colored the sand.
Blackborrow Lake, 3043
Rain. Almost a soft lullaby to the common people, but a harsh symphony of pain and mourn for the royalty. I was present. I stood there. I watched. He was…gone from this world, left me alone and feeling exposed for all to see. I couldn't think straight as the queen gave her last words to his family: his mother, father, brothers and sisters, and his wife and kids. Everyone didn't want to voice what was hanging in the air, what was sitting on the tip of their tongues. We parted, and went our separate ways. I stood there still, staring down at his grave, at where he would lie for to rot in the earth. I didn't want to believe that he was gone. I didn't want to believe that he won't train me anymore. I didn't want to believe that we will never have a conversation again. I was…dead.