Highlord

Episode One: Incursion - Part Four

I find myself standing in the middle of the forest during an arcstorm. Magical energy surges throughout the area, lightly scratching my outfit, and rain gently impacts my hood. The ground is wet and muddy, making it hard to walk. I don't know exactly where I'm going, I just feel drawn to something. Something deep in the forest, that shouldn't be there. It calls to me. I continue walking towards it.

This forest is bizarre and otherworldly. The trees are twisted and bent at uncomfortable and unnatural angles, and a black substance seeps from their branches. There are abandoned weapons scattered all across the forest floor. Swords, shields, guns, even mechs. What is this place? The weapons all seem...ancient. Like ones from the great war.

I did not stop to ponder, I continued to whatever was drawing me to the center of the forest. I readied my daggers, in case I needed to fight who or whatever it was. Eventually I found a clearing, with a single man sitting on a log in front of a campfire. There was no rain in this area, and the ground was completely dry. The man had long, red hair in a ponytail. His ears were distinctly elven as well. I slowly walked towards him, trying to be quiet.

"You can just say hello, visitor." The man said, turning his head.

"...Visitor?" I whispered to myself.

"Yes, that is what you are."

"What are you?" I asked, stepping closer to the elf.

"A memory." The man was carving something out of a wooden block. I leaned closer, it looked like a dagger.

"A memory? Of what?" I asked.

"Not one of yours." He stated, focused on his task. "One of mine."

"...Who are you?" I walked around the log to face him, and looked down at the carving.

"You should already know this by now, Red."

"...How do you know my nickname?"

The elven man did not answer, he simply smiled, continuing to carve the dagger.

"...You're Kita's father."

The man nodded, "You wouldn't know my name, but I know yours."

"...How? Kita couldn't have told you my name..."

"Look around you, Red, then it should become clear."

I looked up to the sky, it's completely black, with a very slight green tinge. The leaves on the trees are all made of Black Ink. This isn't an arcstorm...I'm in The Ink. I'm asleep right now. I'm inside of my own head.

"Now, do you get it?" He looked up to me, he was blind in both eyes due to a scar going through them.

"This isn't real..." I said, "If this is the Ink...how am I in your memory?"

"Not important, not for right now." The man stood up, and offered both hands. In one hand, he had a regular carving knife, and in the other he offered the wooden dagger. "You need to choose, and time is running out. But here, you'll have all the time in the world to choose."

"...Choose what?" I asked.

"What kind of hero do you want to be?"

"...I don't follow."

"The way I've always seen it, there's two kinds of heroes in the world." The man raised the carving knife, "One is a divine savior, idolized by the whole world. They are self-righteous, and believe in justice. But more than anything, they serve as a symbol for what people should aspire to be. Much like this metal blade, they have little to no flaws. They were forged to only do whatever they were built to do."