Echoes of Forgotten

Veoford

It had been three days since they left the Forest Elves' camp, and the party continued their journey west, heading toward the Mountain of Torac. The terrain was rough, but they were getting closer to their destination. With the mountain's base looming in the distance, Fina suddenly stopped walking. She had been silent for most of the journey, but now, her face was painted with worry as she glanced at Veoford.

"Say, Veoford... who the hell are you? Actually, who are all of you?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Veoford turned to face her, his gaze steady. "I see... what happened last time, it's got you worried, doesn't it?"

"I'm sorry," Fina said, her voice softer now. "I thought this would be a peaceful journey. I've never been on a long adventure before. All my other jobs were just in nearby villages. After what happened three days ago, I realized... I didn't know what kind of danger I signed up for." She looked away, her expression betraying her growing fear and doubt.

Veoford nodded in understanding. "It's alright to be cautious. That's the first rule as an adventurer. How about we take a break and talk things over?" he suggested, motioning for the group to stop.

"Yeah, it's been four days since we all started traveling together," Penrod said as he slumped onto the ground, finding a comfortable spot to rest. "Getting to know each other sounds like a good idea."

"Don't you dare fall asleep!" Kollr barked, grabbing Penrod by the collar and pulling him into a seated position.

The group sat down in a circle under a large tree, the weight of Fina's question still heavy in the air. There was an awkward silence as they exchanged glances.

"So, who's going first?" Dianaim asked, looking around. The others quickly looked toward Veoford.

"Alright, alright, I get it," Veoford sighed. "I'll go first." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before he spoke. "Veoford... isn't my real name," he began slowly. "The truth is, I don't know my real name. I don't know who I was, where I came from, or who my parents were. When I woke up, I was in a small village in the Veryan Kingdom."

The others listened intently as Veoford recounted his past. He explained how the villagers found him near a collapsed cave.When he tried to return, the cave entrance had been blocked, and it was impossible to dig through the rubble. The villagers taught him how to speak and write, as he had no memory of how to do these basic things. "Veoford" was the first word he uttered, so that's what they called him.

Months passed, and Veoford became interested in books and history. But the village had a limited supply of reading material. Hungry for knowledge, he set out for a nearby village two hours away, hoping to find more. However, when he arrived, the sight before him made his blood run cold.

The village had been attacked. Smoke filled the air, homes lay in ruin, and cries of grief and agony echoed through the streets. Veoford quickly approached a distraught villager and asked what had happened.

"Bandits," the woman had sobbed. "They took my daughter... and the others."

A knot formed in Veoford's stomach, and he sprinted back to his village, fear clawing at his chest. As he neared, he saw thick black smoke rising from the village. His worst fears were confirmed.

When he arrived, chaos reigned. Bandits- humans, orcs, and other races-were slaughtering the villagers, burning their homes, and dragging away the women. Veoford's heart pounded in his chest. Without hesitation, he grabbed a machete from a fallen villager and rushed at the nearest bandit.
"I lost control," Veoford said, his voice low. "I killed them all. It wasn't just me- something took over. It was like I became a killing machine, and nothing could stop me." He described the bloodbath in chilling detail, how the bandits fell before him one by one, some begging for mercy, others trying to flee, but none escaping his wrath.