Waves lapped silently upon a misty beach. An unconscious young man was sprawled in the wet sands. A seagull flew down and landed next to the man. The bird pecked at the man's hand, which snapped up and grabbed the creature by the beak. The gull squawked as the man shifted, flapping its wings and trying to get away. The man sat up, groaning, and released his grip on the seagull, which promptly flew away.
"Where am I?" he muttered, coming to his senses and standing up.
He was wearing plated boots, greaves, arm guards, pauldrons, and a large breastplate. There was also an open-faced helmet on the mans head with spikes sticking out at a sharp angle, and a flowing cape tied to his neck. All this armor was tinted a deep greenish-black, and studded with green crystal. Sheathed in the belt around the mans waist were 2 long and slightly curved swords, one gold inscribed with the name Balmung, and one silver with the name Ascalon. The man looked around at the indifferent beach.
"I don't remember much, except my name…Alex, I believe..." He walked up the beach, not seeing much but sand, dark water, and high cliffs.
"This island…" Alex said, looking around. "There's something strange about it. I should see what's above those cliffs."
He started walking up to the crag, but something caught his eye at the base of the precipice. It was a large backpack, bulging due to the large amount of contents within. A dull pain suddenly crossed Alex's mind. He rubbed his forehead, and the pain went away.
"I remember something…" he muttered, walking toward the backpack.
"This pack is mine. I don't know how it got here, but I'll take a look in it once I get to the top of this escarpment." Alex put on his knapsack, and started climbing up the jagged rock face.
As Alex climbed over the top of the cliff, he gasped with wonder at what he saw. Far off in the center of the island was an abandoned city lying at the base of a large mountain.
"Wow" he said, amazed. "But something is wrong." A feeling of dread and sorrow filled Alex, causing him to kneel almost on the verge of tears. Then suddenly a strange force entered his mind, filling it with heart-rending memories.
A crazed man atop a twisted black dragon stormed into the city, slaying everything including men, women, and worse, dragons. His followers did the same, almost as insane as their leader. One of the followers stood out among the others, riding atop a great red dragon, and wielding a glowing red long sword etched with a strange rune.
"How can they do this" said Alex sadly, watching from afar.
The leader then looked at Alex with an evil grin, and charged toward the stricken man. Alex raised his swords, but the evil man disappeared along with his followers and the rest of the carnage. As the illusions disappeared, Alex fell to his knees crying.
"How could this have happened?" he said, between sobs.
"So much needless destruction and murdering of dragons and riders." He started to get up, wiping his face with his hand. He looked up as the strange force contacted him again, but this time there were others.
"The spirits of the deceased..." said Alex, softly. He took a deep breath, while a hardened and determined look settled on his face.
"I vow for revenge upon your murderers, and I will not rest until justice is brought upon him."
He stood up, and made a short bow toward the destroyed city. Alex then picked up his backpack, and began walking away, toward the cliffs from which he climbed up earlier.
As Alex walked toward the edge of the cliff, he noticed the dim outlines of mountains on the horizon.
"The only thing that lies between me and the mainland is this stretch of ocean" he said to himself.
"Oh well. I could do for a bit of exercise. And it's almost mid-day, so my clothes will have plenty of time to dry. Then I'll see what's on the other side of those mountains."
Alex took off his armor and put it in his backpack, then took a deep breath, tightened the straps on his bag, and leapt off of the cliff into the calm, cold waters of the ocean.