From the Author

Not to take up to much of your precious time, but I thought a foreword to be appropriate. Welcome to my first LoL fanfiction! Exciting, isn't it? This first introductory chapter ended up a lot longer than expected at nearly 6000 words, yet covers little. Can't help it. Got to be precise. Anyways, this is but a set up for the story, not quite a prologue though. If you read the summary, than you know what the general idea is. Though this starts out a bit slow, I promise there will be Action! Drama! Romance! Horror! Humor! Though that last part might fall short. Anyways, all I can hope for is that you will enjoy this intro, and if anything, I hope I roused your curiosity. PS: Don't own LoL, that's Riot Game's domain, do not sue me. Damn.

Chapter 1: A Forgotten Man

We know that there exists only three states of the mind. There is the conscious, where we think and act out our desires and needs. There is the subconscious, the lesser understood state that dictates our desires, the part that only shows itself in our slightest actions and sometimes, rarely, in our dreams. And then there is the neither. The part that we have not been able to even describe. Perhaps we were never meant to. For some it is the darkness that one experiences only during some nights rest. Others say it is a bright light, as if creations after image embedded itself on our psyche. This state is hard to study, for it is hard to reach. One can only remain in this state for as long as it exists in their situation. Some meditate. Others just need to rest. But more often for the average man, they just need to be dying.

For the old man on the shore, this was the case. Little more than a corpse, he lay on his back neither thoughtful nor dreaming. The waters washed over him endlessly, never once bothered by his presence, their task unimpeded.

And the old man just lay there, unable to care. He was just stuck in this state of being, not quite dead, not quite live.

Now this state is quite fragile and very hard to maintain. So eventually there has to be a choice. Something needs to happen. And it did. Life won out.

It was not a pleasant experience to say the least. Out of nowhere thought, consciousness, and feeling rushed back into the body of the old man. And the first thing in his brain was the realization that he couldn't breath. So flopping onto his stomach, the first thing he did to celebrate his triumph over death was to wretch water from his lungs and gut. The first thing he felt was water rushing from his lung to his mouth. The first thing he heard was an old man coughing and sputtering pathetically. But the first thought that crossed his mind was that he was alive.

After getting rid of the excess water on his person, he stood and trough a baffled and confused mind tried to figure out where he was. Looking at the shore gave way to nothing. Everywhere he looked there was just fine white sand. Or was it ash? Whatever it was, looking inland all he saw was this white powder stretching away as far as his aging eyes could see. Looking back towards the waters that almost claimed his life offered no clue either, but more distress rather. Dark waters stretching away the same way the sand did. No ship, no land anywhere. Just a deep dark ocean under the light blue sky. And the sun… Where was the sun?!

He spun around a couple times, frantically searching for the source of the light which by he could see, and he found none. The sky was light blue, there was light; but there was no sun he could find. Where the hell was he? He never seen a beach with this white sand before, never heard of one. Something unsettled him about those dark waters. They smelled of no ocean he ever knew of. Where was that salty breeze he knew? After a quick sample of the water, his fear proved real. It was all fresh water.

What the hell was this? Where the blazes was he. There were no fresh water oceans, and he never heard of an island inland of such size. And the sun missing was also a big clue as to his situation not being normal. So what did this mean? He asked himself this aloud, his voice loud compared to the waves.

"What place has no sun, fresh water oceans, and white ash as far as the eye can see?"

He contemplated this, standing up finally on weary knees. Hand on his chin, he thought about it for a while. He was expecting his mind to be a bit more addled after a near drowning like that, but he felt strangely focused.

"No place in Valora. So if I'm not on Valora… where does that leave me? Magic? Extra dimension? Other planet? …. Inside my own mind?"

Looking around again at the barren shore he decided that last one was the least likely. He didn't have much going for him, but he liked to think that he amassed quite a good amount of knowledge over the years.

Musing like this for a while longer, he eventually gave up on just standing in place like a statue. Not caring for the direction particularly he started going along the shore. And He walked and he walked, weary bones carrying him along. He was hoping to find something eventually. Logic dictated that he would. But why was it taking so long? He has been walking for hours, and was yet to stumble upon anything. Even stranger, he was not feeling weary at all! He knew that his aged body shouldn't have been able to carry him this far, but besides his aching knees and his chest, he felt fine. He hasn't felt this full of energy in years.

This moment was promptly ruined by his sudden tumble as he tripped over something. One moment there was but an endless shore in front of him, next he was taking a tumble. After some cursing and groaning he stood up and looked at the object he tripped over. It was a rusty round shield, halfway sticking out of the sand. It bore many battle marks, but was of a sturdy design, though simple. He only ever saw such a shield in the old vaults, ancient trophies from bygone days. And even more confounding was the half buried statue not far behind the shield. How did he miss that!

Walking over to the marble statue, he cautiously reached a hand out. He knew there was nothing to fear from inanimate objects, but he has had enough surprises for the rest of his life time. The statue was of a woman, breathtakingly beautiful. She held a sowing needle high in one hand and a scalpel in the other. Adored in simple clothing, few pieces of jewelry adored her besides the ornate band on her crown. Putting a hand on her cheeks he wiped some of the white dirt off. A cupid lips, kind eyes, and a button nose greeted him. She was clearly some sort of healer, but also from a different era. The band told him so, he has seen the likes in old books.

"What are you doing here, hmm?"

But the statue didn't reply. He wasn't expecting it too, but would not have been shocked if it did. Stepping back he wiped off some of the water on his face, only to find salty tears running down his wrinkled face. He felt awful, his aching chest hurting as if it was stabbed in the heart.

And that's when he heard something. Spinning around, he could have sworn that there was a noise right behind him. But all he found was that the shield he tripped over was now noticeable more embedded in sand than before. Gazing around with squinted eyes, he looked around once more before wiping the tears away, and with a loud harrumph he turned inland.

Setting off into the distance he was greeted with much the same sight. Here there was silence, no waves crashing upon the shore. Just his footsteps crunching on the sand. But he did find more peculiar object here. He stumbled upon and old woven doll, a small unbound book with its pages full of runes he could understand, and broken vase with ornate pictures. He was getting quite used to the endless track and the unsettling openness all around him. He had plenty of time to muse, yet no clue showed up as to where he was or why his heart hurt so much. But besides that, it was peaceful, if a bit unsettling.

That is until the very sharp pain of walking into a tree caused him to yelp out in surprise.

Clutching his now aching nose he looked around in absolute confusion. One moment he was walking in the desert of endless white sand, now he stood in a forest full of pale, dead trees. Covered in sooth and ash, the husks of trees surrounded him branches swaying as if caught in a breeze he could not feel. What the devil was going on now?

And that's when he realized that there was something amiss. Not that he just appeared in a dead forest all of the sudden. He was honestly expecting something weird to happen eventually. That was the only logical option after the day he was having with almost drowning and waking up on an endless beach. No, what caught his interest was that he heard something for just a split second after the skull rattling collision with the damned tree.

"Hello?"

But after a few seconds of waiting, no reply. Perhaps he just imagined it as near that statue. After all, it was probably just the noise of a soft nose hitting the hard trunk of the tree that peaked his interest. But it bothered him still. So far, the only noise he has heard after leaving the shore was… nothing. And he could have sworn that he heard giggling…

…

Giggling?

…

An idea popped in his mind. He realized that the plan was sort of insane, but he also knew that the whole situation he found himself in was too. Might as well. Besides, if there was no one around after all, there would be no witnesses to his madness. He would just have to live with the memory. Dramatically, he shrugged and declared loudly.

"Guess it's just the wind."

And with that he made a show of whirling around and walking into a tree with gusto. Forehead first, he caused a loud bang, and made a show of falling on his ass as extravagant as his old body allowed. He sat for a moment, thoroughly in pain but attentive. And it paid off. He clearly could hear a girlish giggling coming from all around him. Someone was laughing at him!

"I know you are there now! Show yourself!"

The giggling stopped instantly. He looked around slowly, trying to find the offender. There were plenty of trees around all of the sudden, a lot of cover to hide behind. But he was determined. To do what exactly? Even if he found who was hiding what would he do? Question them? Demand answers? Just wh…

"Hi"

Right in next to his ear! He jumped, giving out a yipping noise that did not match his dignified age. And whirling around him found a young woman invading his personal space. She giggled lightly again and spoke.

"Sorry about that. Didn't mean to startle you. Or laugh. But I rarely get to see something so funny round here. And that was soooo funnnnny."

The woman spoke with a sort of energy and joy, and the old man found that his fear and anger evaporated almost instantly. She was a beautiful creature, and reminded him of the statue on the beach. It wasn't the look really, for she had rosy cheeks, with big doe like eyes that gleamed in the light. Arched eyebrows, and a prominent visage. She herself seemed womanly in all perspectives, perky breasts and slender limbs that moved full of life he did not feel in himself. Her long black hair was a neat mess, full of ash, tangled but looked like an elegant veil on her. Her cloths were a tatter, too big on her, simple in design but ragged. She still managed to make them look like a natural fit on her, like when his niece got into his wardrobe and stole one of his robes. The memory made his heart ache even more for just a second. But despite her ragged state, the young woman in front of him still reminded him of the state, because despite all the filth and the wear and the tear, she just looked… perfect. And in his experience, nothing in the world looked this beautiful despite all, except those that were made.

His thoughts were interrupted as the woman stepped back, put a hand on her waist and wavered the other in front of her face. She called out, voice full of youth.

"Hello? Is everything alright?"

He found it difficult at first to speak, his tone even and listless compared to hers.

"Yes, fine."

"You aren't mad about me laughing at you?"

"No, no, it's quite alright. It was supposed to be funny anyways."

"Wait. You're telling me that you walked into a tree twice. For laughs?" She tilted her head, clearly amused.

"Once. The first one was an accident. I wasn't exactly expecting a forest to appear out in the middle of nowhere."

"They didn't." Another giggle. "Trees don't just appear, silly. You did though!"

"Which remind me. Could you tell me where I am exactly?"

"No."

"No?"

"No." She even shock her firmly once, the action both comical and dignified on her.

"And why is that?"

"Because there isn't an 'exact' here anywhere." She said this as if he just missed the most obvious thing. He just looked back with a deadpan look, eyes locked on each other. To his surprise, her eyes were a faded, pale blue that did not match her character. Yet they contained wisdom and power, along with sadness. He recalled that he was always good at reading people's eyes. His chest hurt at the memory. The silence stretched on, and she just stared back with a slight smile on her perfect lips.

"Alright. Then could you please tell me where I am?"

"Yup. You are on the Forgotten Shore! Where all things come to be forgotten." She replied, as if it was the most natural of things.

"The Forgotten Shore?"

"The Forgotten Shore."

"Never heard of it."

"Well, no one ever leaves to tell people about it, so yea. Plus it's really just what some of the locals call it."

"There are others out here?"

"A bunch! More than you can count. But most of them are pretty boring. They can't remember who they are, they stop feeling things, and just lay about all day. Or they lose their minds and kind of go crazy. So it's really nice to meet someone who can actually talk! I haven't had a conversation in a few millennia. I think."

"A few millennia?"

"Time doesn't work the same way here as you're used to. Don't worry, took me a while to get used to it too."

"Speaking of which, would you mind telling me your name?"

She hesitated for a moment. Just for a split second her mouth opened and she froze up. He would not have even noticed it if he wasn't so weary of her. But in an instant she was back to her cheery self.

"Let. I am called Let."

She reached a hand out, and he realized it was a greeting. He took it in his own and kissed the velvet skin with his bark lips.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Let." He said.

Moments passed. Let tilted her head again, her smile becoming awkward in the situation.

"Aaaaaand you are?"

"Oh!" He forgot to introduce himself. "I'm…"

Funny. He knew who he was. He knew his own name, it's not like he forgot. His chest just suddenly started hurting again with the damned phantom pain. He just really didn't want to say his own name. What?

Stuttering, he dropped his gaze. Come on, just say it. He grabbed his head with two witted hands. It's your name, who you are. And yet he didn't want to say it. Didn't want to.

But before he could make up his mind, Let clapped her hand and spoke.

"Oh of course. Sorry, I forgot that you are new around here. The Shore has a tendency to make you forget things. Or not remember them. That's why everyone else is crazy. Except me of course. I'm good at remembering stuff."

"Why?" The old man groaned.

"I'm a goddess. It's what I do."

"No I mean why can't I say my name?"

"Oh, that."

"Wait you're a w…"

"Remember how I said things come here to forget?" She interrupted quickly before he could press her. "Well, the Shore makes it hard to remember. It's not that you can't say your name. You don't want to."

With that she turned around and started to walk off. He straightened up and followed. But after going behind a tree, he was stunned to find himself on the beach again. Stunned for a moment, he decided to screw it, and go along with it. He was getting used to the unexpected. Here on the beach there was an old stone building. A temple by the looks of it, supported on square pillars all around, with badly worn statues. It looked as if some giant hand just scooped it up from somewhere and dropped it on the beach. Let walked towards it, and he followed. The place was made of some sturdy hard stone, but was in a state of neglect. Cracks appeared in the wall, some of the pillars had fallen over, and the once beautiful statues and paintings were worn so thin that they reminded him of shapes in a spider web. Ashen sand cover most of the floors and caked the altars and shelves. Yet it was clearly well lived in. A path was made clean of the sand from points in the giant chamber of the temple. Lanterns, candles, and some sort of bulbous contraptions lit up the building bright, though the old man thought it to be pointless. Everything on this... "Shore" was illuminated by the mysterious light without a source. And yet, the bright yellow of the candles gave the place a sort of homely warmth. Drapes of all varieties lined the walls, hung from the ceilings, and clothed some of the more intact statues. Or in a few cases were so covered in fabric as to make them into makeshift chairs, outstretched arms becoming hamics and laps becoming seats. Really it was a lovely dwelling.

Lev walked in, a slight skip in her steps. Looking around it was easy to see sights of toys, puzzles, paintings and books of all sizes, shapes, and origins all about the place. Clearly she has been around this place for a while now and wanted distractions. Couldn't really blame her. With his brief experience with the Shore and how time seemed to shift about randomly, boredom was likely an issue. His own experience on the beach was still weirding him out. Thinking back on it, he seemed to have wandered around for ages, but could only recall a few seconds. Maybe it was just that. Or maybe not.

This place was starting to give him a headache.

Anyways, he decided to focus on the now instead. He spoke to Lev, who was making herself comfortable on a bean chair made of sown together robes of regal make.

"Nice place you got."

"Really?! Thanks! I was a bit concerned there. It's a bit of a mess. I don't get a lot of visitors." She looked away embarrassed for a moment, playing with her hair. "Actually, you are the first quest I ever had."

"Really?" That baffled him. She said that she has been here for millennia. Or a couple at least. And even if time was … weird here, she should have meet other people. "Is there really so few sane people here?"

"Yea. You are actually really lucky I found you when I did. Most people lose their grip on reality within moments. Can't come to term with being dead. Some are already slipping away even as I come to them. Others think I am just a ghost. Or a figment of their imagination. Others try to hurt me. And some get picked off by… scarier things."

"There are worst things out there then insanity inducing realities?"

Let took on a somber tone. "You couldn't even begin to imagine."

Moments passed. The silence was fortunately not as prevalent here as outside, with makeshift chimes ringing out. Jewelry hung from stings all-around of gold, silver, and other rarities. And yet even this didn't end the awkwardness of the stall in conversation. Until the old man realized something.

"Wait. Did you say we were dead?"

"Yup."

…

"What?" Let was confused by his astonished look.

"You just told me that I was dead! That is impossible!"

"No, it's not. Everything that comes here has died and has been forgotten by the world. It's how it works."

"So you're telling me I'm dead. I do not feel dead."

"And how do dead people feel exactly?"

"Not this alive."

"Really?" Let reached a hand out and placed it on his chest. Moments passed till the old man spoke.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes?" Let replied.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Do you feel it?"

"Feel what exactly?"

"Nothing."

He raised an eyebrow on that. He was very convinced that Let might actually be insane. Till it hit him. All he could feel was just the pressure of her hand slightly pushing on his chest. And that was it. He placed his own hand next to hers, on his heart, and to his shock, there was … nothing?

His heart wasn't beating. He really has died. It was a sobering thought.

"Wow. So this really is it. I'm dead."

"Yup. But don't worry about it too much. There is nothing you can do about it."

He didn't know what to think. He was expecting panic. Or fear. Sorrow. Anger. Something. But really, he just felt empty. Let just sat there in her seat, a length of string in her hand. He must have sat there for quite long, because the next time he spoke, the full length dress she was working on was almost done.

"So what now?"

"We talk."

"We talk?"

"Do you repeat everything I say?"

"Sorry. But it is only because I would like some clarification."

"Ooooooh. Sorry. I told you, I haven't had a chat in some time now, I'm not very good."

"It is alright. So what is it that you want talk about?"

On that, Let almost bolted out of her chair, her sowing forgotten. She jumped over to a pile of stuff, and began to furiously search through a chest nearby. Her excitement was pliable.

"We, are going to figure out who you are!" She haphazardly tossed items out of the crate, mind clearly set on something. The old man just watched for a while as she went from chest to shelf to closet to baggage. Curiosity sighed him though and he inspected some of the items tossed his way. A staff of simple design, made of hard oak, runes carved into it. And an immense power source coming from it. Nothing of note. A shard of some kind of crystal of a purple hue and jagged symmetry. It unnerved him how the light seemed to darken and shift inside of the thing, but chalked it up as insignificant. A tortoise shell almost hit him right in the noggin had he not amazed himself with a good catch. A hasty 'sorry' was all the attention he got from Let, who was still searching for something. He tossed it aside, not caring about the jingling of metal coming from it when it hit the floor. After a few more inspections yielding powerful artifacts lying about like trash next to some oddities, he decided to speak up.

"Would you rather not talk about our current local? I am still confused about this … What did you call it? 'Forbidden Shore'?"

"Forgotten. Yea, I could. But I rather not now. You seem a bit pale still from the whole 'dead' part. And I don't want to overwhelm you. There is quite a lot out there. Could write books, series about it. Actually, I did some time ago. Can't remember where the books are though. Aha! Found it!"

Let whirled back from a make shift rug sack to present her prize. In her hand was but a small silver pedant. No more significant looking than any of the mix match of items, it hung on a dual silver chain, with a pale stone fixed into its middle. There was a happy smile on Let's face, eyes sparkling with some joy he couldn't understand. So he decided to humor it.

"Yes! Jewelry! Whatever would we have done, had we not found it!"

"Quit being an ass." She punched his arm, which he found quite painful in his old state. He bruised easily. "This is going to help tell your story."

"I'm guessing it's magical?"

"Yes! Sort of. Kind of… Actually, no, no it isn't. But it's going to help."

Let took his hand and dragged him over to a couch near the back of the temple. Seating herself on the end, she made him lay down. Groaning and cursing his frail body, he lay his head on a pillow next to her. He has given up on questions and hopeless resistance. He was in a mad world and so was giving up on rational. Looking toward the ceiling he was greeted with a huge patchwork of fabric. It reminded him of the night sky, stars and constellations present. But they were all just out of shape, on the edge of being familiar. Still, the heartwarming colors the artist took to it was comforting. Though the giant robed statue next to the wall was going to take some time getting used to. After situating himself he spoke.

"Alright, now what?"

"Now you tell me about yourself." Let put the jewelry not over her neck as he expected it, but on her forehead. The pale stone hung perfectly on her brow, forming an almost perfect triangle with her pale eyes. It suited her very well. Had he been any younger, he would have had to break his gaze. But as he was, he just admired her for the beauty. And found himself thinking once again about how unnaturally perfect she was.

"You make it sound easy. I can't even remember my name. Or want to. However it is that you put it."

"I didn't ask for your name." Let put both hands on the side of his skull. They were so soft and velvety on his bark like skin. He found himself relaxed instantly. Her eyes were mesmerizing. Was she using magic on him? He didn't feel a tingle of it. And yet, he just felt like reminiscing.

Yet he could. He wouldn't. His chest ached and a nervousness was working its way past his relaxed body into his mind. He didn't want to remember. Or rather he wanted to, he wanted to know who he was. But… This was frustrating. Seeing his discomfort, Let just shushed him quietly and messaged his head.

"Just tell me a story."

"A story…" He felt relaxed again. He used to love stories. Noble knights vanquishing evil tyrants. Great kings who inspired and lead their kingdoms against hordes of enemies. Powerful magicians wielding great power only rivaled by their greater knowledge. Love so powerful that it reached across life times.

The sound of battle was a roar. Metal clashing on metal, man screaming out in pain only to be silenced by death. The air was think with the smell of blood, charred meat, and energized winds. His vanguard was holding fast against the enemy, pushing forward relentlessly. Clad in steel and magic, his man's halberds slashed, smashed, and pierced into the barbarians. And as poorly armored his foes were, they were numerous and fervent. In their mind they were not dying. No, to them death in battle was just the next step.

He was shoulder to shoulder with his elite. His armored body was barely touched by the axes and spears aiming to take his life. His sword would intercept them but moments before and find its mark before his opponents could even react. His tabard has turned red from blood, the fine detail unnoticeable from it. He raised his offhand, and five man lost their life with a flick of a wrist and magical energies stripping flesh from bone. He was a proud war machine, striding across the battlefield, voice ringing mightily.

"Forward! Cut them down where they stand! Send them to their gods!"

He was running high on adrenaline. His fervor was caught by his soldiers and they raised their voices as one.

And yet he was losing and he knew it. The left flank towards the hill was routing, and if it fell back now his plan would be ruined. He had to get their and hold till the spell was complete. And yet more foes dared to block his way, a shaman charging a powerful …

The child in his hand was so small. So fragile. He never held a baby in his hand before. And he felt nervous. Nervous over this! He has partaken in rebellion, faced dangerous cult and challenged monsters from nightmares. Hell, a single day leading his people was usually more challenging and nerve-racking than what most people experience in a life time. And yet he was so nervous. Was he holding her right? He didn't want to drop her. And even through this nervousness he was amazed. What possibilities did this child hold? What decisions, what…

Cutting trees. How he hated it. A life of a simple wood cutter. But it is what it is. He followed his father through the woods, daydreaming and letting his feet carry him whichever way the old man went. He knew this place like the back of his hand. So he dreamed about places he could barely fathom. He wanted to be a knight. He never seen one before, but he heard that they were mighty warriors of justice, infinitely wise. He doubted that last part though. People were people no matter who they were, and everyone made mistakes. Everyone believes themselves to be correct.

Maybe he could still become one. He was young, barely eleven. Perhaps if …

He never could get enough of this sight. The best thing that has ever happened to him. He would give up the crown that he spilled so much blood for. He would maim himself if he had to, just to keep waking up next to her. His queen. She lay there next to him, barely wrapped in blankets, her bare back turned towards him. The smell of sex still clung to the sheets from last night, their passion. In the back of his mind he knew that the maids who replaced them every day would bicker, but he just chuckled. He ran a lazy hand down her side, following the curves of her body. Starting from her arms and working his way down, he wanted more but didn't want to wake her. So at last he pulled the blankets up to protect her from the chilly air. Oh how he loved her. He never thought he would find anyone in the world who he could share a soul with. Someone who would love him unconditionally, for who he was, despite all his faults, despite all his mistakes…

The dark waters rippled all around him as he held the corpse in his arms, as if blown by a hurricane. Dark mists flowed out if the women he loved, from every pore, from her eye sockets, her mouth and nose. And she screamed from beyond this world. His mind was finally clear from the madness that seized him, and he saw the horror that he created. Tears running down his face he screamed like a lunatic, his voice joining his wives. There were no words to either of them, but every half said syllable, every howl from his throat cursed himself. The rotting flesh of his wife just howled in panic, of horror. The energies were conve…

He screamed out loud. Cold sweat ran down his body and he didn't know where he was. Something was trying to crush his skull. A voice joined his screams.

He struggled against the restraint on his head and broke free. He jumped off the sofa and stumbled. He looked around in a panic, looking his senses. It took him a long time. He must have taken a year or so. Let was a lot faster. She sat there, composed in but moments. She just waited, patiently sitting there with a kind smile. After a few more months, the old man spoke.

"What was that?" His voice came out as a croaks. He wanted water. He wanted the pain in his chest to go away.

"That was you." She replied. "Your memories."

Let stood, and walked over to him, reaching out an elegant hand. He took it slowly, cautiously.

"I want to apologies. But this has never happened before. Your memories were so vivid. So real. They are usually faded by now. Like a worn dress. But you just relived almost every moment of your life in but a blink of an eye."

She looked genuinely sorry. His heart hurt even more when he saw that. Genuine sorrow. He didn't want that for her.

"It's alright." Just two words. He didn't have much else left in him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's completely fine." He spend what felt like a year on that floor, thinking it all over. He had time to forgive.

"Look, I can understand if you're angry. I should have told you what I was planning. Prepared you. But I thought it be simpler like this. It has been so long since I meet someone, and I was just excited that you…"

"Karroy." He interrupted.

…

"Karroy?"

"Yes, Karroy. That is my name."

He put a hand on her slim shoulder. He knew his name. He knew the ending of his story. And now he wanted more.

"Or rather Karroy, King of the Magar, Usurper of Iodor. The Gray Lord. The Sorcerer King. The Bringer of Change. The Butcher of Ujfalu. The ..."

"The Ruined King." Let finished his sentence.

"You saw."

"Of course. That's what this is for." She pointed at the stone fixed to her forehead. So she saw his life.

"Let, I am going to be honest with you. Though with the way time works here, I might have been here for years. Decades even. But I barely know you. Or myself. And what you just did was fear inducing beyond belief. But Let, I need to know. I need to know what happened."

"Are you sure." Let replied. "From what we just saw there, it's not a happy ending. You might not want to remember."

"I am sure. I need to know.

Silence. Even the chimes have fallen still, and the Forgotten Shore reclaimed in noiselessness. Let and Karroy looked at each other, each wondering what the right choice was. Finally, Let smiled and waved an arm towards the sofa. She spoke, a bright smile already on her face.

"Well than, let's try this again. From the beginning."