Memories of the Forgotten

 My name is Sydney. I'm a traveling writer on a journey across the kingdom of Aigne, collecting stories and legends as I record them for... well, to be honest, I don't really know.

 I realize that may sound silly, but really, my purpose for doing this is rather unclear. I don't work for any kind of newspaper, I'm not some kind of aspiring author and I'm no royal record keeper.

 I'm not even sure if anybody will ever read what I've written.

 But, I figure that so long as something is written about my travels, then perhaps it will not be for nothing and it will serve some purpose some day.

 The story I'm writing now is a bit different than the others I've written so far. You see, many of the stories I write come from campfire stories or conversations that I hear in passing. They're stories of brave adventurers and exciting journeys, involving swords and monsters and treasure and adrenaline fueled events! I do experience my own adventures from time to time, of course, but it's actually very rare that I get to write about myself. Most of my stories come from other people, though I mostly hear them secondhand like I said. I'm rather shy, you see. I don't do so well with approaching people about their own personal tales, as I don't do so well with conversation and... I'm sorry, I'm just rambling at this point.

 As I was saying...

 This story is quite different from my normal fare. As this story is about one of my own personal experiences, but it's not one filled with anything particularly exciting. No, rather, I would say this story is much more of a sorrowful one. Allow me to explain and set the scene.

 I've been passing through the southeastern region of Aigne these past couple of weeks. I was fortunate enough to have caught a wagon for most of the trip, but eventually my comfort and I had to part ways and I found myself walking for some time.

 Yesterday, I suddenly found myself in a very quiet wooded area. Mind you, I wasn't walking through any kind of forest or anything per se, but it may as well have been. There was a dirt road that led on for miles and miles until it cut right through what used to be a small village. There were trees that lined this road and surrounded the village itself, so it wasn't necessarily a forest, but it may as well have been one. As I said, this used to be a village, once upon a time... a time that was approximately six years ago.

 There was an awful war that had broken out between Aigne and our neighboring kingdom Fuan ten years ago. I really don't remember the details, but it's said to have been the bloodiest war between the two yet. The destruction certainly shows it.

 According to records, the war had reached this far into Aigne about five years into the war. Fuan soldiers had carved a path through our defenses and were making a slow, but steady, push toward the capital. They were completely cleaning out every town and village they happened upon along the way and prisoners were scarcely taken. This village, as well as all the others, hardly had a minute to react. So many innocent lives were exhausted in just one night.

 The buildings and the surrounding landscape remember. Each collapsed or ransacked house, right down to the smallest pebble that once helped support somebody's home, tells a horrendous story. Every dark bloodstain that still covers a stray area of the village recounts it in tremendous detail.

 I had no intentions of seeking the place out, however. Although it was technically on the main road, it was just slightly off the beaten path and, being a wanderer, it wasn't really as though I had any specific route or destination in mind, so going the road less traveled is quite a common thing for me. And so I eventually stumbled upon it as I walked.

 The wreckage was so strange and otherworldly to me. At first, I didn't really understand what I was looking at. It felt like I was walking through a surreal dream and that I would wake up at any moment, but it was all too real and all too quiet. There were no birds chirping, no bugs buzzing. Only the sound of my footsteps shuffling along the dirt road gave any sort of life to the place.