17 years before current time.
The storm raged through the night keeping everyone inside. The lights of Seafalls Hold shone, barely visible through the driving rain. No one in their right minds would willingly be outside in this weather.
The boy didn't know how long he'd been running, but it seemed like forever. He wasn't even sure what he was running from. All he remembered was waking to chaos, shouting, screaming, the clash of weapons, explosions.
He heard someone, his father, yelling to get out, for everyone to save themselves. He was too afraid to find out what was happening. Pulling on his clothes and boots, he grabbed the pack that he kept his few treasured possessions in, forced open the window and climbed out. He tumbled to the ground, scrambled to his feet and ran. Not until he reached the shelter of the tree line did he dare stop to look back.
He wished he hadn't, it was a sight that would haunt him the rest of his life. The entire hold was aflame and he could hear the screams of its occupants, unable to escape as the fire consumed everything.
Tears streamed down his face mixing with the rain as he watched all he had ever known disappear in the flames. Distraught, he turned away and began to run, wanting only to get as far away as possible. He ran and ran until he could scarcely go on, the breath burned in his lungs and his legs felt heavy as lead, but he daren't stop. He needed to find somewhere safe.
In the distance he saw lights and turned his course toward them, hoping that he'd found a refuge and not more trouble. As he drew closer the outlines of a large hold emerged from the moonless darkness and the mud track gave way to paved road. He staggered towards it, his mud coated feet slipping on the rain-slicked stone. Overbalancing, he stumbled against a wall, hitting his head hard. He barely managed the last few steps before collapsing unconscious at the door.
They found the boy when the guards changed shortly before dawn, and took him to the Healer Hall where he was treated for his injuries.
He came back to awareness slowly. Afraid to see where he might be he kept his eyes closed, using his other senses to tell him what he needed to know. It was quiet, the storm was over and he could hear seabirds crying nearby. There must be an open window close by for he could feel a gentle breeze, smell the ocean, and fragrant flowers. The bed under him was soft, softer than the... softer than what? He couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember? A sob caught in his throat.
"Hush, it's all right."
The woman's voice was gentle, reassuring, and at last he dared to open his eyes. She sat beside him, a motherly woman in healer green.
"Hello," she said.
"Can you tell me who you are, what happened to you?"
He opened his mouth to answer and his lips moved but no sound came out. The healer smiled reassuringly.
"Don't worry if you can't tell me now. Tell me when you feel ready to do so."
"But I want to tell you," his mind cried out. "Why can't I say the words?"
Tears streamed down his face as disjointed, incomprehensible memories flooded his mind. He couldn't make sense of anything. All he was aware of was the healer's arms holding him until sleep claimed him.
When the boy awoke again she was still there. Had she even left him as he slept?
She smiled cheerfully.
"You're looking better today, I'm pleased to see. And it occurs to me, we never had the chance to introduce ourselves yesterday. I'm Masterhealer Zarah of the healer hall. You are?..."
Still he could not speak, but Zarah was prepared. She handed him a slate and chalk.
"Can you write?"
He nodded. Slowly, painfully he forced his clumsy fingers to form the letters, white against the stark blackness of the slate; like a beacon of light in the darkness. Abruptly he blocked the memory, that way lay too much pain. It was safer not to remember.
"Carradoc? Is that your name?"
He nodded.
"That's good. Now we know what to call you. Everything else can wait until you feel able to tell us. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you need."
Carradoc lifted his head and glanced at her, but, unable to maintain eye contact he looked away again. He would never again find it easy to look anyone in the eyes, it encouraged people to look back at him, to see him, and he preferred to remain un-noticed. To his damaged mind anonymity meant safety.
Slowly he recovered from his ordeal, and eventually he learned to speak again, though he never said anything un-necessarily. However try as he might he could never regain his lost memories except as nightmares he could never quite recall.
He stayed at the healer hall, he felt safe there and he didn't know of anywhere else he could go. To repay Zarah's kindness he made himself useful in any small way he could, and as he grew older he found the idea of healing appealed to him. Zarah took him as apprentice and he worked and studied hard until he became a journeyman.
His first assignment was to Hidden Grove Weyr.