Chapter 2
Inside Passage, Hannelore Mountain, Realm of Eldridge
The soft trickle of water lured him to wakefulness, promising peace if he made it all the way into the light. Following the temptation, he fought his way to the surface and was rewarded with the blinding crush of pain. His arm and shoulder throbbed with pure fire, overshadowing his other injuries.
Images of a battle flooded his mind, pulling him back into the murky darkness.
He instinctively threw himself the last few feet toward his partner, taking them both to the ground as arrows pierced the air above their heads. Rolling, he tried to determine where the threat was coming from.
One of their own was engaged in combat on the far side of camp, as was a huge black warhorse, who screeched and kicked a second soldier to the ground.
More arrows thudded around them, aimed in a threatening but aimless manner—a distraction to keep them down.
“I’ll take air, you take ground,” his partner said, pushing off his knee with a curse and darting to cover in the direction of the archer.
Rolling up and releasing his sword, he leaped toward the two men approaching him. An arrow clipped his side on its way past, sending sparks of fire through him.
Spinning to keep his opponent’s back to the archer instead of his own, he attacked with force. The second man intervened, forcing him to split his attention between the two men.
A woman’s enraged scream froze the air in his lungs for a split second. The edge of loss in her voice seared him with a visceral slice, sickening his insides. He knew that sound, had felt it, screamed it before.
Physical pain hit in the next instant, his arm and shoulder flooding him with wave after wave of brutal heat.
Vision clouding over as his mind scrambled to block the pain, it was all he could do to stay on his feet, conscious.
Switching his sword to his other hand, he brought it up too late to block a deep cut to his chest.
The high-pitched terror of a little girl’s scream pierced through the sounds of the ongoing battle. Gray movement at the edge of his vision told him that his horse was actively defending the girls.
His strength began to wane as he fought off the double assault. A sharp jab followed by a kick had him crashing to the ground, head hitting something with blunt force.
His vision darkened and his senses began to fade out, but he fought to hold on. He couldn’t help them if he was dead. The soldiers would be back to finish him before long.
Forcing himself onto his uninjured side, he inched his way toward the shadows just out of reach. The powerful screech of a bird of prey pierced his ears, and he jerked to a stop.
A second sharp, predatory screech sounded too close for comfort, and he opened his eyes to the startling sight of two red-feathered hawks. Perched on a rock near his head, they watched him with avid focus.
His lungs shuddered when he tried to take in a breath and he winced at the constricted feeling. Not a good start. His head and eyes weren’t right either. He blinked several times, picking a rock to focus on until his vision settled.
Had he been dreaming or remembering? His mind was so shadowed, it was hard to tell sometimes. The faded glimpses loomed around him, wrapping dark tendrils around him when he let his guard down. Maybe if he got up and moved around, they would give him some peace.
Groaning, he wrestled his muscles into action and sat up. The effort made his head spin and body throb with pain, but he felt better being slightly mobile in the unknown surroundings. He tried to ignore his unsettling watchers as he looked around.
The colors of the Eldrin forest greeted him, but they were darker and brighter than they should have been. Vibrant. Even the small, flowing stream next to him sparkled with crystal clarity. The enhanced view sent nerves racing up his spine.
Where am I?
He didn’t recognize anything and had no memory of traveling to this place. A pounding started in his head when he tried to think through the last few days. The earlier memory was already fading, even as he tried to grasp it. Nothing but the clash of metal and a desperate need remained.
He needed to remember, needed to get to… something. Someone. He was sure of it, despite the blackness that was devouring his mind.
The lack of information unleashed a wave of anxiety in his gut, and he curled his palm around the air at his chest. He looked down and frowned when he realized there was nothing there. But his hand knew the weight of the pendant that was missing.
He came up blank on what it looked like or what material it was, but he could feel the phantom shape lying protectively against his chest. Strength, safety, home. The depth of wrongness at its absence spurred him to move.
Struggling to his knees with only one arm to support him, he lurched forward onto his feet. Disapproving noises sounded as the hawks flew in front of him to block his path. The larger of the two spread its wings threateningly at him.
Movement near his injured side startled him, and he jerked, his hand clenching at the open air as he fell back to the ground.
“Easy,” a soft, feminine voice said. “You’re safe here. Where were you going?”
“Nowhere.” He glared at the feathered creatures before focusing on the woman.
The beautiful huntress knelt beside him, dark eyes searching his in concern. Leather guards laced up her arms declared her the master of the hawks nearby. The armor was soft, molding to her arms and shoulders perfectly. A sparkling black layer coated the armor.
Her eyes were gentle, her figure as honed as any warrior’s.
Strength and beauty intertwined. His breathing immediately eased from the galloping pace it had launched into upon being surprised.
He felt trust and rightness wrap around his heart.
She had saved him. Protected him. He was certain of it, despite the lack of memory to support his conviction.
“Do you know who I am?”
She smiled at him, eyes warming. “We’ve been calling you Raiden. I’m Daya.”
“We?” Glancing around, he saw no one but the two birds and a horse.
Clearing her throat, Daya glanced away to rummage through a pack. “You seem more stable this time. Do you think you can eat?”
“I’ve been awake before?” That was alarming.
Like the now faded memory he’d had upon waking, he couldn’t remember being alert before. Only vague flashes came to him—the pain of having his arm moved, Daya’s dark hair falling over him as she bandaged his wounds, a horse moving through a cave-like structure.
“It’s been a few days since I found you. Do you remember anything from before?”
The glint of swords clashing. A child’s scream. An overwhelming sense of failure and fear.
His breath stuttered as his pulse sped. “I failed them.”
But… who were they? What choice had he made, and why? Pain sliced through him, driving a wedge into his mind as he fought to remember.
“Stop. Look at me.” Daya squeezed his hand until he complied. “Just breathe with me. You’re hurting yourself by trying to remember.”
He met her eyes, instinctively nodding acknowledgment of the command and matching his breathing with hers as he slowed the panic coursing through his body.
“Thank you,” he murmured when he was calmer.
“Just let it be. It will heal with time.”
Releasing him, she went to a small fire, bringing some recently cooked meat back to him. His mouth watered, stomach churning at the sight of food.
“Eat. I’m not losing you now due to stubbornness,” she said.
Taking it, he devoured the meat along with some water and fruit. The constant edge of pain stemming from his upper body wounds ebbed a little with the food. He wasn’t dying anytime soon if his appetite was anything to go by.
Priority one, regain strength. Then worry about the rest.
He distracted himself by watching his beautiful rescuer, Daya. His anaiah. He may not know his own name, but of that, some part of his soul was certain.
Walking over to a velentha tree, she used her knife to scrape a portion of sparkling amber sap out of a crevice in between the twining trunks.
Returning, she spread the sticky, sweet provision over a piece of travel bread and offered it to him.
Accepting it, he watched the golden sap seep into the bread, softening and sweetening it.
“How is it that I know that lentha nectar is sweet and rich to taste, and can be harvested all year? That I secretly enjoy it in my morning tea and crave it when I’m home, where it’s less accessible? Yet I can’t recall my name or what’s happened to me. Or where my home is.”
“Give it time. Once your physical wounds heal, you’ll be ready to accept the knowledge in your mind. Let it protect you until then.”
“Something tells me I won’t be much good at resting.”
Daya’s laugh brightened his spirit, lightening the weight of his burdened soul. “That makes it the perfect time to learn. Any other memories come to you?”
A thunderous flash of gray as a horse galloped past him, mane snapping in the wind.
“My horse. He was with me when…” He swallowed as harsh shouts and jabs of pain streaked through his mind. His horse’s enraged cry filling his ears. “Did you see him anywhere? I can’t lose him, too.”
“No. I’m sorry. Besides the man who attacked us on the mountain, it’s just been you and me.”
“The birds are yours?”
“Ereven and Ember, yes. They’ve been helping me watch over you. Try to rest until it’s time to travel, Raiden.”
Raiden. He turned the name over in his mind. It was unfamiliar, but he liked the way Daya said it. As if it had significance.
Balanced unstably on Melody, Raiden picked his way along the earthen trail. The mare had solid footing and seemed to know where they were heading, so he simply had to hold on and try not to aggravate his injuries.
He was sweating heavily despite the chill of the early winter air, his body straining with the effort to stay upright. It had seemed a better idea than walking at the time, but he was growing doubtful.