He remembers being so happy, so free. The boy's family lived in a village by a cliff overlooking the sea. Life was calm and peaceful in the small settlement. Rarely did any strangers come by, but they were always accommodating those few times they had visitors. He remembered all the stories the strangers told him, of battles and life on the road.
As peaceful and wonderful his life was, it lacked any real adventure. He wanted to be one of those adventurers. The ones who wandered the land and fought for his life against weather and beasts.
He remembers the intense wish for something new and exciting to happen.
And something did.

It was the screams that woke him. Horrifying, inhumane screams all around him. He sat up in bed, immediately alert. He could hear those screams cut short by something. A growl?
He wanted to leave. To run, or hide.
But his legs wouldn't move. All he could do was tremble with fear and whimper. What was happening? Where was his father and mother? His sister? Why was he all alone in this awful screaming?
He hugged his knees close to his chest and wept as silently as he could. He could do nothing else.
Then, there were frantic footsteps right outside their door. Someone was pounding on their door.
The boy managed to press himself close to the wall and closed his eyes tightly.
If he didn't see it, it would be over quickly, right?
The sound of a breaking door greeted him, and he quickly decided that he shouldn't hear it either. So he covered his ears, and cursed himself as a whimper escaped his trembling lips.
Then, someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes and stared back at his sister. She looked worried, tired. Like she had just ran all the way down to the beach and back up.
She was saying something, but the boy couldn't hear her. He removed his hands from his ears, but he could still not hear her. Strange.
He watched as she bit her lip, and pulled him up. She was yelling now, urgently. He could still not hear her.
She suddenly turned around and marched over to the door, dragging him with her. Before they walked out, she grabbed their father's sword.
Why would she need that? What was going on?

The sight that greeted him was not pretty. It was not like he had imagined in the stories he was told. People bled more than he thought.
There was the little girl next door, bleeding out on the ground.
There was the old man, lying against his house with something through his chest. He wasn't moving.
So many of his playmates were lying around, or desperately trying to crawl away from something.
His sister didn't stop. She ran through all this, not sparing anyone a moment of her time. The fires didn't stop her, the screaming and moaning didn't stop her.
The big shadow however, did stop her.
A large man with a big sword was blocking their way. He grinned at the two siblings, and raised his sword.
His sister pushed the boy to the side and drew their father's short sword. She was yelling again. What was she saying? Why was this happening?
The boy didn't understand. The air felt hot against his skin. The wind carried a rotting smell. Burned flesh.
The only sound the boy could hear was the man laughing as his sister's head hit the ground.
Then he ran. Suddenly it was like his body had understood what his head was screaming at him from the very start. Run. Get away. Live, live, live!
All his senses had become hypersensitive. He could hear every footstep, every cough and moan. Every laugh and the sound of iron scraping against iron.
He could see every detail. How the blood stained the grass. How flesh curled as it burned. How it blackened, how it looked an awful lot like the food they would burn over the fire.
He could feel the warm air, the burning sparks as they hit his cheek, his hand. They didn't matter. His instincts were screaming at him. Run, run, run!
So he ran. Ran as fast as he could past screaming children, moaning farmers. Past everyone he could have helped. Past the last house of the settlement and towards the cliff.
The sea was salvation. The sea was safety, sanctuary.
He had to jump, he knew. He didn't have any other way to make it down to the beach. Not with that monster following him.
The boy turned around at the sound of heavy rattling. It was the monster. The big man who so easily killed his sister. He studied the boy, then he laughed.
He had to be a beast, the boy reasoned. There was no way another human like him would do this to harmless people. His eyes looked so wild, so inhuman.
The boy readied himself to jump, but then the monster opened its mouth.
"Oh, look" came the mocking snarl. "He's trying to get away. How pathetic."
Another laugh escaped the monster's lips, and the boy felt confused. It knew his language. It could speak, and understand him. Why would it attack? Why would it kill so many innocent people?
"You won't survive the fall. Go on, try. I'll wait" the monster grinned, it's wild eyes flashing in the flames.
The boy hesitated. What if the monster was right? What if he jumped, and the waves would crush him against the rocks? Was all this pointless?
His confusion and fear must have shown plainly on his face, because the monster barked out another loud laugh. Mocking him, cornering him.
"The little piggy can't even do it" it seethed. "Why, maybe he needs a little nudge."
The monster sprang forward, and suddenly the boy felt like all air had escaped him. Something was wrong. Something was wrong with his chest.
He looked down, and saw iron. There wasn't supposed to be iron in his chest. There wasn't supposed to be iron inside him.
He could feel something wet running down his chest and back. But it wasn't raining. How could he be wet?
Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. He couldn't feel his lungs filling with air anymore. His vision clouded slowly.
The monster yanked his hand back, and the iron disappeared from his chest. He felt his body tilt backwards, and gravity grabbing hold of him. Pulling him down, down, down.
The last thing to escape his lips was a weak, whimpering.
"Why?"

Floating.
This sensation was floating. Drifting. Up and down, in sync with the waves. The sea. Mother to all life.
Singing. Someone was singing. A sorrowful tune, slow and melodic. A beautiful tragedy.
The words were not of the human language. It promised absolute truth and wisdom, something more profound and older than any human there was.
More sounds. Water crashing towards land. The blubbing sound of fish. The sound of sand moving back and forth, polishing the rougher rocks along the seabed.
Moving creatures, using their powerful fins to push forward in the currents.
Touch. There were scales sliding against skin. Small fish nibbling on toes. Hands moving across a cheek.
Hands?
Finally, sight. The sunlight forcing its way through the water. Demanding reach to even the deepest oceans. It shone so brilliantly. The hand kept stroking. The song was coming to an end, it's tones tragic and drawn out. Then, it stopped.
The boy coughed, and twitched. The hand disappeared rapidly, and he tried to position himself in the water. He turned to gaze upon his savior, but could only see a humanoid shape disappear into the blue. A woman with scales.
Something was different. Something had changed. The boy kicked his legs, and broke the surface of the water. Sound came crashing into him like a tidal wave. It sounded like several people talking all at once. The boy looked around in confusion. There was no one here, yet he could hear them. All of them. He could feel them laughing, crying, hurting.
In panic, he dove under the water again, and found that the sound was muffled. replaced by calm water, brushing against his skin.
Something was very wrong indeed. He quickly became aware of the need for air, and surfaced again, slowly this time. The sound was still there. The itching on his skin continued. Very strange.
The boy moved toward the shore, and dragged his heavy body up. He walked until his bare feet touched grass. There he sat down, and tried focusing.
Last he remembered, he fell down. He hadn't stopped falling. Or had he?
He looked up the cliff, and saw dying smoke. Somehow it didn't upset him. Not the memory of his sister dying. Not the smell of burning flesh and screams of children.
Instead he gazed out towards the endless sea, and focused on the voices again. They were happy. Some were sad, some were terrified. But most of them were happy.
He wanted all of them to be happy. Every single one.
He had a new life now. A life filled with a noble purpose.
There was a lingering sadness as he turned his back on his former home. A promise unspoken.
Seems like his wish was fulfilled after all.