Wars of Eredhar: The Dawn of Darkness

"A glimpse of the past"

Both their eyes turned into a bright white and deep within their minds they saw something that was not really there, a glimpse from the past. Slowly, a different world started taking shape around them. People were running around the two, as they were gazing down the hill.

"What just happened?! What, no... where are we, how did we get here?!" he asked, with a slight shiver in his voice.

"We, my young apprentice, are in a memory. As to where, this is the place that shaped the world as we know it today.

"I can't believe my eyes!" Devon looked mesmerized, as people were running around him, all dressed in chainmail and armor, carrying swords, others carrying bows, spears and shields, all of them marching towards what seemed to be a battlefield.

"You stay close to me, for you don't want to get lost in a memory", Lothorekin told him, walking down the hill. While descending, an arrow flew next to them, making Devon step to the side and take cover.

"Where, where did that come from?!" he screamed and looked around.

"Calm down, Devon. Inside here, we cannot get hurt. We are just observers, but there are limitations to what we can observe." She pointed to the far ends of the battlefield, to places that were somewhat blurry.

"Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or there really is nothing past those lines?" Devon glanced in the distance, trying to figure out what was there.

"You need to keep in mind that we are in a memory. Thus, we can only see to a certain point and till a certain time", she explained to him, as they both moved between the soldiers.

"Who is that man, Lothorekin?" Devon pointed at a tall man, dressed in silver armor. The light was glittering on the diamond that was carved into his breastplate and his helmet had flowery designs made from steel on its sides. He was carrying a sword, one of ancient kings. The hilt was made of the sturdiest metal, with a small blue gem giving a faint light to the blade of the sword.

"That is Glandur Abithien, descendent of Primordial Seveladith Abithien and last king of Shelfron. Good riddance..." she exhaled as she passed by him, gazing into his eyes.

"How come I'm not familiar with any of these?" Devon asked, looking at Glandur and reaching for his armor. His hand just passed through the king, when he tried to touch him.

"Frankly, you weren't even born at that time. What you see here took place hundreds of years ago, more than 300 winters. There are not many records of what happened here, for the darkness that once was the driving power behind our kingdom desired to wipe all memories of the once thriving Kingdom of Shelfron", she said, stopping behind a cloaked woman.

"But mistress, how do you know all of this, if it was meant to be forgotten?" he looked at her in bewilderment.

"I know this, because of her..." she pointed at the woman, passing through her.

"Who is she?" Devon asked, intrigued by the hooded woman. He followed Lothorekin, but when he laid eyes upon the woman, he couldn't believe who was standing in front of him.

"I know this, because I was here..." she nodded as both of them saw Lothorekin under the cloak.

"No, this doesn't make any sense, this can't be!" he took a step back, looking at her, confused.

"It is true, and that is me." She pushed Devon towards the memory version of herself. "Look at her! Deep down you know it for what it is..."

"It...it really is you", he stared into the memory-Lothorekin's eyes, seeing the same sparkle as the one he saw earlier. "But, how is this even possible?"