Author: Sam

Story: The Never-ending Story: 8 of 33

Series: none

Setting: Summer 1986: The Realm of Dungeons & Dragons

Characters & Ages: Hank- 18 going on 19, Someone un-named (but seen before)

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/samwise_baggins/index.html

Rolling over, a frown fixed on his face, the blond man studied the unfamiliar sky. It was daytime, as denoted by the four suns in the sky, and it was perhaps springtime, as denoted by the breeze in the greening trees. However, as he turned his head from one side to the other, the young man noted that he didn't recognize anything around him. A new place, then.

Standing up, brushing himself off, he again looked around, a slight frown on his face. He was alone in a grassy meadow. It was peaceful, beautiful, and relaxing. Somehow, that didn't feel right. Unable to shake the impression that something was wrong, the young man picked up the unstrung bow at his feet and frowned at it. He shook his head then started off in a random direction, unsure what he was looking for, but unable to simply sit and stare into the blue sky, either.

As he walked, the man puzzled over his purpose in the wilderness. Shaking his head, eyes widening, he realized that he really didn't know. He had no idea why he was there or why he was alone. Hunting? Didn't feel right, and with an unstrung bow, he glanced at the seemingly useless piece of weaponry, that really didn't make sense. Traveling home?

With a tilt of his head, he thought that one over. Sounded closer, but... stopping stock still, the blond realized he had no idea where home was. Spinning around, trying to get some indication of where he should go, he felt overcome with a sudden wave of panic. He not only didn't know which way to go; he couldn't remember anything about home.

A groan escaped the man and he brought a strong, callused hand to his forehead, pale blue eyes closing as he tried to concentrate. A few minutes of trying to remember what he didn't know didn't help, so he instead tried to list what he did know. Name... Hank. A smile crossed his handsome features and he nodded. That was a start.

Hank looked around, letting his hand thrust slowly through shoulder-length blond hair. Absently, he did it again. Okay, age? With a grin, he realized that maybe this question and answer session with himself was a bit juvenile, but it sure did ease the tension. Okay, age... eighteen. His eyes opened wide in surprise. He'd just turned eighteen if it was springtime. Whoa!

Looking around, feeling much calmer, Hank spotted a stream. Okay... let's see if he could figure any of the missing things out by looking at himself. He sprinted lightly over to the swift moving water and knelt down, eagerly searching the face revealed to him. A frown crossed the blonde's features and he shook his head. That face was totally unfamiliar to him... and that was more terrifying than...

The memory of a terrifying thing went so quickly, it hadn't even had a chance to begin. That frustrated the man and he frowned, glaring thoughtfully into the water as he fought to recall the fleeting image. He had to give up, reminding himself that he was recalling the easy stuff first. But he was still bothered by not being able to recognize himself. How had he gotten that way and why?

Turning around, back to the water, Hank let himself slip down onto his butt. He looked down at the bow in his hands, and frowned deeper. Why an unstrung bow and no arrows? What could the purpose in carrying a useless weapon be? Was it sentimental, perhaps? He had no other supplies with him, so why bring a bow instead of food or something else useful? Why go on a journey at all, especially unprepared?

"Stop it, Hank!" He shook his head, continuing to talk to himself aloud. "This is getting you no where. You're going in circles... and now you’re talking to yourself. Great." The young man fell silent and looked out across the meadow with unseeing eyes. He drew a deep breath, calming himself once more, and started again.

"Okay... I know I'm Hank and eighteen... and my birthday's in the winter. What else do I know?" He let his eyes close and his mind drift. Slowly, he recognized the image of a young child, also blond, in his memories. Brother? Seemed right. So, he had a brother. But Hank couldn't figure out anything more about the kid, even a name, than that he was a younger brother and blond. It was, however, something.

Pushing to his feet, the youth looked once more at his reflection in the water. "I don't know how you got into this, buddy, but I'll get you out of it." He turned his left side to the stream and started heading towards the green trees in the distance, smiling as he realized he was able to get around in the wilderness even if he couldn't recall where he wanted to go.

People stopped their everyday tasks to watch the attractive young man who entered their small village. He smiled at them in a welcoming way, but they merely stared, not greeting him at all. Surprisingly enough, it didn't dampen the man's smile. He continued nodding to people, smiling, and walking down the road. Some started following him in wary curiosity.

Hank knew instantly that these people had never met him before. There was no recognition in their expressions, just curiosity. He smiled, reminding himself that he needed as much help as he could get, and knowing that a smile would pave ways faster than even a neutral expression. Nodding to one elderly lady, Hank turned his head to smile at a young man. On he continued, down the single street, searching in his mind for some way to approach these people without seeming like a beggar.

Thoughts of helping himself, however, flew from his mind as he noted an old man stumble from his house under a heavy load. Hank immediately deviated his path to offer the elder assistance, receiving a shocked look from not only the man, but from nearby townspeople who had watched this unusual display. Whispers began as Hank carefully took the burden and smiled at the man, asking softly, "Where should I bring it for you?"

The older man frowned, reaching for his bundle, but suddenly stopped at the sight of Hank's bow. He froze, eyes widening. "You... you can carry it over the street there, lad." He seemed intrigued as he followed Hank across the road to a larger, airy house.

Others watched, awed suddenly by the action, though Hank couldn't figure out why at first. He did, however, begin to understand a little when he overheard the words "bow" and "power" in passing. So it was the fact that he appeared to be a warrior that had them in a buzz, was it?

At the other side of the street, Hank turned and smiled at the man. The elderly figure frowned and gestured to a shelf outside the house, watching closely as the younger blond put it down and stepped back. Before the young man could say anything, however, the old man touched his bow and grinned widely.

"So, you are the Ranger, are you?" He looked smugly at the rest of the townspeople, who started buzzing in more excitement and approached. They all seemed intent on the pair now, actually smiling in a welcoming way. "We've been waiting for you, lad."

Tilting his head, smiling himself, Hank shrugged one shoulder. "I'm sorry I took so long, but I've a problem. I can't remember... anything. Have we met before?"

With a laugh that made the crowd jump, the man shook his head. "No, not at all. But we were told that we should watch for the Ranger who could pass this way. We're to tend to you, lad."

"Really?" Hank looked around, pale blue eyes taking in the widely smiling faces now. He felt strange, however. This town seemed to expect him, welcome him, but it didn't seem... right somehow. It felt... off. He looked back to the old man, frowning softly.

"Yes, you see a war is brewing, lad, and you've been sent... to aid people. We're caught in the middle, you see, and have no way of protecting ourselves. You..." he reached to touch the bow again, though Hank pulled it back this time. The man shrugged, eyeing Hank with a gleam as he continued, "Are the insurance we need to survive. You will help us."

Hank shook his head and tried to back out. He found himself blocked in by people, however, all smiling in that same welcoming... no... hungry manner. These weren't friendly townspeople at all! The blond ducked into the house, slamming the door and pulling a chair in the way as from somewhere the lost knowledge came that they were something which fed off of wandering strangers.

He heard a sound behind him and whirled, instinctively raising his bow and reaching for the string. The old woman in the room hesitated from where she'd been approaching. Hank was just as surprised as he felt a string humming with energy right below his fingers. He couldn't see it, but that didn't stop him from pulling back on it, relying on feel at the moment.

Suddenly, his bowstring lit up with electrical energy, an equally bright arrow appearing, humming in his fingers. Not questioning why or how, the Ranger held up his bow, aiming right at the woman. His voice was strong and sure, despite the confused panic welling up inside. "Stay back. I don't want to hurt you. I only want to leave this town."

The woman nodded, holding up old, wrinkled hands, and staying still. She then nodded her head towards the back door, watching him intently. The look in her eyes was not frightened or even hungry; it was respectful and pleased.

The Ranger kept his arrow knocked, his bow at the ready, as he slowly walked towards the woman in order to get to the door. As he eased past her, he was surprised to hear a calm, soft voice call out to him.

"When you leave this town, Young Ranger, do not look back until you've crested the hill. If you do, you will be in their spell, unable to leave, forever."

He stopped and turned to look at her, easing his arrow a bit and frowning. Studying her, he asked, just as softly, "What do you mean? How do these people know me? Who are you... who am I?" His eyes pleaded for answers; his heart begged for an ally.

With a soft smile, the woman answered him; "you are the Ranger, one of the Children of Power. These people are not here, and neither am I. We are all part of a trap to bind you here. You were sent across the Void; your eyes tell as much. This place is not what it seems, but your future journeys will be filled with more hope."

"I... I don't understand."

The woman lowered her hands and sighed. "You are on a long journey to end a great evil, this much your heart knows. Your mind may not remember you, but your heart never forgets, Young One. I cannot tell you what you do not already know. I can only tell you what you recall." She watched the frustration and confusion in his eyes, followed by a faint hint of recognition before it flew again. "You have encountered evil in this meadow, Ranger, and will encounter us again. But not all evil is corrupt, and not all enemies are out to harm you. Remember, Child, that you have the power inside of you... a power that even your bow cannot match."

Still not understanding, Hank opened his mouth to ask more when a terrific thumping at the front of the house startled them. He turned, raising his bow once more, but the woman shook her head and gestured to the back entrance.

"Leave, Young One, before you cannot. I will not be harmed, relieve your mind and heart of that burden. But you must go before they come through that door. Go, and do not look back before you crest the hill!" She desperately made shooing motions at him, still not touching the young man.

He blinked. In a split second, however, instinct took over and he fled, trusting her to be telling the truth somehow. Opening the back door, aware that other villagers were circling into the yard, he took off towards a distant hill. The sounds of wailing and horrific screams followed him, but he obeyed the woman's stricture and did not even dare a glance. Somewhere inside he hoped the woman was right, and that she wouldn't be hurt for helping him.

At the top of the hill, Hank was suddenly aware that the noises had ceased abruptly. He bent double, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath. It was several tense moments, still expecting an attack, before the youth turned slowly and looked down at the place he'd come from. What he saw sent a chill right through him.

There, where just a few minutes ago had been a peaceful village, stood a blackened circle of barren earth. The burnt out structures of a town were still dotted hear and there, but the sight of grave markers in the shape of a huge circle, surrounding the destroyed town, was more eerie than anything the man could ever imagine. Somehow, despite his amnesia, Hank knew that he'd just passed through a cursed area... one created by whatever evil the woman confirmed he was sent to fight. He also noted that there was one burnt building which had flowers growing by the blackened door: that woman's home.

With a shudder, the young man turned to begin on a cautious journey, pondering what that place had taught him, and what he had yet to learn.