…

A Lost Hero's Fairytale

Chapter 1: A Shelter in the Woods

Part I

…

Everything was black, stretching endlessly like the deepest void of space—cold, silent, and utterly empty. The only sounds were distant, almost imperceptible: the faint rustling of leaves and an eerie hum, like a faraway whisper carried on the wind.

Slowly, the darkness began to thin, replaced by a dull, aching awareness. An eighteen-year-old boy lay motionless on the forest floor, his body limp, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. His eyes fluttered, trying to focus. The world came into blurry view: tree limbs cloaked in moss, twisting toward the sky, and a thick, choking fog that hung in the air like a veil.

A low groan escaped his lips. "…Urrgh…"

His whole body felt wrong—stiff, heavy, unresponsive. Panic flared as he tried to move his arms, his legs, but they refused to obey. His emerald eyes blinked rapidly, and a sudden, excruciating surge of pain shot through him, ripping a gasp from his throat.

"AAGHH!" His scream echoed briefly in the dense, silent woods.

For a moment, he lay there, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. The pain was overwhelming, but slowly it ebbed, fading to a dull, stinging throb in his muscles. His head pounded, a small but sharp migraine needling into his temples.

He winced, feeling the lingering aftershock of pain. It was fading, but he was left in a haze—disoriented and confused. After what felt like an eternity, his fingers twitched. His legs followed. Slowly, cautiously, he began to move again, testing each limb as if they might fail him.

The ground beneath him was soft, damp, clinging to his skin. He groaned again as he forced himself to sit up, his muscles protesting with every movement. A sharp pain shot through his skull. "Ow…where…am I?"

His voice sounded foreign in the stillness. He looked around, squinting through the fog. What he saw sent a chill down his spine.

The world around him was a twisted nightmare of a forest—an unsettling marsh, its ground dotted with jagged gray rocks slick with moisture. Thick fog curled around him, obscuring everything in sight. As he turned, his gaze settled on a towering, ancient tree directly behind him.

The tree loomed like a dark sentinel, its bark almost black, with gnarled, vine-like tendrils stretching outward, attaching themselves to anything they could reach. The vines were draped in luminous moss that glowed faintly, casting an eerie greenish hue over the area. Despite the thick fog, the tree stood out, its unsettling presence dominating the landscape.

He took a deep, uneasy breath and immediately regretted it. The air was heavy and foul, a rancid mixture of decay and stagnation. It clawed at his lungs, making him gag. He pressed a hand to his forehead, wincing as the headache pulsed more violently.

His fingers brushed through his tousled brown hair as his mind raced, trying to piece together some explanation. But nothing made sense. Nothing seemed real.

"Where…" he began to speak but faltered. No, something even more terrifying struck him, freezing the breath in his lungs. "No…"

His heart pounded in his chest as the realization hit him. It wasn't just this strange place that didn't make sense—it was everything.

"Who…who am I?"

Furrowing his brows, he struggled to force memories out of the fog in his mind. But nothing came—no name, no face, no past. "I can't remember anything…" His heart raced as the truth settled deeper into his bones. "I don't understand. What's going on?!"

Panic bubbled just beneath the surface, the sharp pulse of his headache amplifying his unease. His breathing grew shallow. He clenched his fists and forced himself to take a long, deep breath. He had to stay calm, had to think. Sitting here wouldn't solve anything.

He shifted his weight, then slowly, shakily stood. His legs wobbled beneath him as if the muscles had forgotten how to hold his body upright. He looked down, and the sight wasn't encouraging. His black t-shirt was shredded, hanging in tatters. His jeans, once blue, were torn and grimy, and his green leather sports jacket wasn't faring any better—ripped and filthy. For some reason, that bothered him, a pang of disappointment rising in his chest. He couldn't understand why though, maybe there was some sentimental reason for it, he wished he could remember.

Dirt and grime covered him from head to toe, and the occasional bloody scrape marked his skin. His black-and-white shoes, though, seemed oddly intact—like the only part of him that hadn't been through a war.

He glanced around once more, hoping for anything, any sign of what he was supposed to do next. The jungle stretched out in every direction, the thick fog obscuring the details. But there—a trail, winding between the rocks and cutting deeper into the marshy forest. He shrugged, muttering to himself, "Better than nothing, I guess."

He hesitated, casting a glance back at the massive, ominous tree looming behind him. The vines and moss swayed lightly in the still air. "Gotta be better than sticking around here…"

With no other options, he limped toward the trail, grimacing with each step as aches flared in his muscles. Whatever had happened to him, it had left its mark, and his body reminded him of that with every movement. He kept his head on a swivel, eyes scanning the dense, silent jungle. The air felt thick and heavy with tension, as though the forest itself was watching him, waiting. The silence was unnerving, the kind that wasn't just quiet but oppressive. It bore down on him, making every shuffle of his feet feel too loud.

The teenager muttered under his breath, "It's like this place is mad I'm here…"

But he wasn't here on purpose. Right? "Just wish I knew how I got here… or anything for that matter."

A sudden series of beeps cut through the oppressive silence. He froze, eyes darting around. The sound came from his left arm. Pushing up his torn sleeve, he revealed something strange: a sleek, green gauntlet-like device clamped to his forearm. His brow furrowed as he took it in—how had he not noticed it before?

"System reboot in progress..." A synthetic voice chimed from the device as the dial turned a soft, pale green.

He blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Uh… okay?" System reboot? What the heck was this thing? It didn't look like a watch. It didn't seem like any ordinary piece of tech. His mind drew another frustrating blank when he tried to remember anything about it.

This whole situation was getting under his skin.

He shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it. At the moment, it was just one more mystery in a pile of them. And there were bigger problems. He needed to find someone—anyone—who could explain what was happening to him. Maybe along the way, he'd remember who he was.

But for now, all he could do was keep moving.

…

Over an hour had passed as the brunet trudged down the winding, uneven trail. The eerie marshy jungle eventually gave way to a dense, lush forest. As he walked, he had plenty of time to think—or at least, to try. Every attempt to recall anything about himself was met with a frustrating blank.

He sighed, frustrated. At least his mind wasn't a complete void. He still knew basic things. The earth, trees, sky, clouds, and sun—they were all familiar. And when he glimpsed the sun through a break in the canopy, he was able to figure two things: it was mid-morning, and he was heading north.

"Not totally useless, I guess," he muttered to himself, though the victory felt hollow. His memory might still be a black hole, but at least he hadn't forgotten how the world worked.

The trail eventually ended at a grassy cliff overlooking a broad, fast-moving river. He stepped to the edge, scanning the area, but his heart sank. No signs of civilization. Nothing but nature in every direction.

"Well… great," he muttered, running a hand through his messy brown hair. "Maybe I can follow the river? Towns are usually near water… but which way?"

He sighed heavily, looking both ways along the riverbank. "Man, what should I do here?"

His question was met with a sudden, rhythmic thudding that shook the ground beneath him. He froze. The earth trembled with the impact of heavy footsteps, and a dark shadow loomed over him. Slowly, he turned his head to glance over his shoulder—and blinked twice.

An enormous, gorilla-like creature stood behind him. Its chest and face were lavender, with a matching cone sticking out from the top of its head. Long ears and an exaggerated chin gave it an almost cartoonish appearance, but the sheer size of its green, fur-covered body was anything but comical. Darker green fur coated its legs and tail, and pink heart-shaped symbols lined its shoulders and arms in a bizarre pattern.

"I'll tell ya what you can do," the creature sneered, its deep voice filled with malice. "You can get off my turf before I smash your little face in."

Ben blinked. Twice. "Uh… you talk?"

The creature growled, its expression twisting with rage. "Are you mocking me, ya little punk!?"

He turned to face the beast fully, blinking again. Talking gorillas, this was new. Or was it? Now that he thought about it, he felt like he might've seen an animal talk already but didn't think it was a gorilla. Something to think about later then, right now he had a situation to deal with.

"Noooo. Not at all," he replied, though his tone came out sarcastic without meaning to. "Look, uh… whatever you are, I'm just passing through. So if you could just—"

"That so?" The creature leaned down, bringing its massive face right in front of his. The overconfident smirk on its face made Ben uncomfortable. "This is my territory, punk. Trespassers aren't welcome."

Ben frowned, glancing down at the strange gauntlet on his wrist. The gauntlet's dial and tubes still glowed that faint yellowish green. "I wonder…" he thought, staring at the device, trying to make sense of it. Maybe this thing could help him, if he could figure out how it worked.

"HEY!" The creature's roar snapped him out of his thoughts. "Are you listening to me!?"

Ben grimaced, recoiling from both the volume and the creature's foul breath as he used one hand to fan the air in front of him to try and clear it from the smell. "Pee-yoo! Ever try brushing your teeth, dude?"

That was the wrong thing to say.

With a guttural snarl, the massive creature lunged forward and snatched Ben off the ground in one swift motion. The teenager yelped as the air was squeezed out of his lungs.

"OW! HEY! Lemme—ACK!" His voice was strangled as the beast tightened its grip, squeezing the breath from his body. Pain shot through his ribs, and he could feel his bones creaking under the pressure.

"Puny runt!" The gorilla-monster roared, its sharp teeth bared in a wicked grin. It squeezed harder, relishing the pained gasps that escaped Ben's lips. "There's a toll for trespassers in my neck of the woods. For the human women, I take 'em as wives. For the men…" It reared its massive arm back, preparing to hurl the boy. "I have no use for 'em!"

With incredible strength, the creature hurled Ben into the river like a ragdoll. He barely had time to register what was happening before he hit the water with a sickening splash. The cold shock of the river's embrace stole the breath from his lungs, and the powerful current swept him away almost instantly.

"Have a nice swim, runt," the creature called smugly, waving mockingly before it turned and lumbered back into the forest.

Ben struggled to the surface, gasping for air. His instincts took over, legs kicking furiously against the raging current. But the river was stronger than he was. It pulled him along, dragging him downstream no matter how hard he fought. His wounds flared up in the icy water, every ache and scrape burning like fire.

"Come on… come on!" he growled through gritted teeth, kicking harder, trying to swim toward the shore. But the river wasn't going to let him go easily. It tossed him like a toy in the rapids, slamming him into a boulder with brutal force.

Pain exploded in his head, and the world spun out of control. His vision blurred, darkness creeping in from the edges. With one last, desperate thought—Not again…— then everything went black again.

…

The sun beamed down on the rolling landscape, casting a warm glow over the wide expanse of trees that stretched beyond the horizon. The peaceful skies were dotted with birds, their songs echoing through the forest as they fluttered above the river. Below them, the river cut a winding path through the hilly terrain, its gentle flow creating a soothing backdrop.

Walking along the rocky riverbank was a small group of travelers. At the front was a young girl with porcelain skin and long, flowing blue hair tied back into a neat ponytail. She wore brown sandals, loose-fitting green knee-length pants, and an oversized blue shirt that hung around her like a dress. On her right shoulder was a light blue tattoo shaped like a cat with two tails—a proud mark of her guild.

Next to her was a tall, bald man, his skin bronzed from years spent under the sun. His muscular frame was clad in nothing but tan pants and brown sandals, his bare chest adorned with tattoos. One of them, on his left arm, was a hollow blue circle with a red rectangle beneath it, matching the design on his forehead. Another, the same two-tailed cat symbol as the girl's, was etched in navy blue across his chest.

The third member of the group floated beside them, a small white cat with two angelic wings sprouting from her back. The feline wore a yellow-and-pink top with an oversized pink bowtie, and another pink bow on the end of her tail. Her sharp brown eyes darted around the area as she flew at head-height with her companions.

"Thanks again for your help, Wendy." The man said as he carried a folded-up fishing net over his shoulder and a spear in the other hand. His voice was deep but kind. "I really appreciate it."

Wendy turned to him with a bright, innocent smile. "Of course, Maguna! I'm always happy to help anyone in the guild."

"I fail to see how fishing is a productive use of your time." The white cat remarked with a haughty tone.

Wendy's shoulders slumped slightly as she glanced at her companion. "Carla…"

Carla crossed her tiny arms in disapproval. "I'm just saying if you want to improve your magical skills, you should be taking on more serious requests—outside the village."

Wendy's gaze dropped to the ground, her voice soft. "I know… it's just…" She trailed off, unsure of how to continue. "...Can we drop it for now? Let's just focus on helping Maguna, okay?"

Carla huffed, her wings fluttering as she turned her head away. "Fine. But we will continue this discussion later, child." She really wished Wendy would be a bit more assertive. The girl needed some outside experience to help her grow as a person.

Wendy sighed, relieved to dodge the lecture for the time being.

"This is the spot," Maguna called out, stopping in front of a large boulder that jutted out from the riverbank. "The current creates whirlpools in the center of the river, forcing the fish to swim closer to shore around here." He dropped his gear and turned to the others with a grin. "Normally, we'd use nets to catch them, but I've got a different idea."

Wendy blinked curiously. "What's that?"

Maguna's grin widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

A few moments later, Wendy stood at the river's edge, her brow furrowed in concentration. Behind her, Maguna and Carla stood back, watching her with expectant gazes. Carla's wings had disappeared, the feline conserving her magic.

Wendy took a deep breath, focusing inward to draw on her magic. "Alright..." she whispered to herself, swinging her arms in a graceful circular motion. "Sky Dragon's Wave Wind!"

A swirling gust of wind formed above the river, kicking up water in a small vortex. Wendy aimed to generate a tornado strong enough to lift the fish from the water and deposit them onshore. But as the twister whirled, it was weak and unstable. A light spray of water splashed across the shore, some of it hitting Wendy.

No fish appeared.

"Ah, shoot…" Wendy's shoulders sagged in disappointment, her ponytail drooping slightly as she wiped water from her face.

"Hey, it's alright, Wendy," Maguna said with an encouraging smile. "You're doing great."

Carla gave a more critical assessment, though her tone was gentler than before. "You'll need to put a little more magical power into the spell, child."

Wendy nodded, though her confidence seemed to waver. "I'll try…"

Maguna stepped forward, his grin unwavering. "Why don't you give it another shot? Keep practicing until you either get it right or run out of energy." He purposefully left out that her first attempt had probably scared off all the fish in the area. No sense in dampening her spirits further—this was still good practice for her.

"Okay…" Wendy replied, though her enthusiasm had noticeably faded. She brushed the water off her face and took another deep breath, willing herself to focus. She cast the spell again. Once more, the twister formed, but it was too small and weak to pull any fish from the river's depths.

"You can do it Wendy!" Maguna called out encouragingly.

"Focus child!" Carla added, though her tone was sharper.

Wendy bit her lip, frustration beginning to build. She cast the spell again and again. Seven more times she tried, pushing through the mounting exhaustion. But the results were the same, if not worse. By the ninth attempt, her twister was barely more than a gust of wind kicking up mist from the water.

Breathing heavily, Wendy rested her hands on her knees, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "I'm sorry…" Her voice wavered, and she blinked back tears threatening to spill over.

Maguna quickly stepped in, his tone gentle. "Hey, hey, it's nothing to cry over. You're doing great Wendy. How about one more try, huh? What's that saying? Tenth time's the charm?" He tried to sound upbeat despite knowing the actual phrase.

"I believe it's the third time's the charm," Carla corrected flatly, folding her arms with a disapproving shake of her head.

Maguna laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ha-ha! Well, ten does symbolize completion and unity in some cultures. Or so I've heard. One more shot, and we'll call it, alright?"

Carla sighed, her tail flicking in mild exasperation. "I suppose. Are you up to it, Wendy?"

Wendy's shoulders trembled as she nodded. "Right… one more try." She straightened up, legs braced wider as she took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering whatever energy she had left, before swinging her arms in a precise motion. "Sky Dragon's Wave Wind!"

A twister burst from the river's surface, larger than the previous ones. It swirled faster, pulling more water into its vortex. Wendy's eyes lit up as the spell seemed to finally gain some strength.

But just as quickly as it formed, the tornado sputtered, losing momentum. With a final, pitiful swirl, it collapsed, spraying a wave of water over the trio onshore.

"Alright!" Maguna thrust his fishing spear upward in triumph, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Now that was much better!"

Wendy leaned over, hands on her knees, panting heavily. "Did we… catch anything…?"

Carla scanned the shore with a critical eye. The rocks glistened with fresh droplets, but there was no sign of fish anywhere. She turned to Wendy, her voice blunt but without malice. "No. Your early attempts likely scared them off."

"Oh…" Wendy's face fell, her energy and excitement draining away in an instant. She lowered her head, a feeling of failure settling in.

Maguna shot a quick frown at Carla, though he kept his tone light. "It's okay, Wendy. You gave it your best shot. Magic's all about practice, after all."

Before he could offer more reassurance, something caught his eye. His gaze shifted to the river, where something large and dark floated toward them, riding the turbulent current. At first glance, it appeared to be a log—debris from the forest carried downstream. Maguna was initially surprised that it hadn't been pulled into the whirlpools in the river's center.

In reality, Wendy's spells had unintentionally brought the log closer to shore.

As he studied it more closely, his eyes widened in realization. "Look there!" Maguna pointed with his spear, his voice suddenly sharp with urgency.

Wendy and Carla turned to follow his gesture. A large log bobbed along the river's edge, but it wasn't just a piece of driftwood. Clinging to it, barely visible through the mist and swirling water, was a figure—a person.

Wendy's heart skipped a beat. "Oh my goodness!" she gasped, her exhaustion forgotten. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward the river, her sandals splashing through the ankle-deep water as she rushed to the log's side. A surge of adrenaline shot through her, her focus now completely on reaching the figure clinging to the debris.

"Wendy, be careful!" Carla called out, her wings snapping open as she took flight, gliding swiftly after Wendy. Maguna was right behind, his heavy footsteps splashing through the shallow water.

Sure enough, as Wendy reached the log, she saw him—a brown-haired boy, soaked to the bone, unconscious but clutching desperately to the middle of the driftwood. He looked older than her by a few years, and when Wendy saw the faint rise and fall of his chest, relief flooded through her. He was alive.

But his condition was bad. His clothes were torn, his skin scraped and bruised, and his breathing was shallow. Wendy's heart raced as she crouched beside him, her hands trembling slightly. He needed medical attention and fast.

"Maguna, we need to help him!" Wendy's voice cracked with urgency as she looked back over her shoulder.

Maguna didn't hesitate. Dropping his fishing spear and net, he hurried forward and carefully lifted the boy from the log, cradling him in both arms as water dripped from his limp form. The teen's soaked clothes clung to him, making him feel heavier, but Maguna's strength made the task seem effortless.

"Let's move!" Carla urged, hovering beside them, her sharp eyes scanning the unconscious boy with concern.

With no time to waste, the trio forgot entirely about their fishing trip. Together, they hurried back to the village with urgency.

…

"Aw man…this is gonna be the worst vacation ever. I might as well have gone to summer school." Ben grumbled, kicking a loose rock along the dirt path. He gazed up at the darkening sky, frustration written all over his face—until a streak of reddish-orange light shot across the heavens. "Whoa…a shooting star."

But something was off. The streak of light didn't fade—it shifted, abruptly pulling a sharp ninety-degree turn and rocketing straight toward him. His heart leapt into his throat. "What the—?!" Panic set in as the fiery object hurtled closer. Without thinking, he bolted, his legs pumping as fast as they could. The streak of light expanded into a glowing fireball, slamming into the earth with a deafening explosion.

Chunks of dirt and rock blasted into the air, a massive dust cloud billowing up from the impact site. Ben hit the ground hard, lying on his stomach, coughing as the thick dust settled around him. Miraculously, he wasn't hurt—just shaken. His wide eyes blinked in disbelief as he pushed himself up on trembling arms.

"What just happened…?" he muttered, brushing dirt off his shirt. Curiosity overriding fear, Ben stumbled toward the edge of the smoking crater that had been carved into the earth. He peered over the lip of the crater and saw it—a large, segmented sphere, glowing red-hot from its fiery descent.

"Looks like a satellite or something." He murmured, inching closer to get a better look. But before he could react, the ground beneath his feet crumbled away, sending him tumbling down into the crater with a startled yelp.

Landing with a thud, Ben groaned but quickly stood, his eyes locked on the strange object in front of him. Steam hissed from the sphere's interlocking plates as they began to shift and open, revealing something inside. A faint beeping echoed in the crater, and from the heart of the sphere, a brilliant green light spilled out.

Ben's breath hitched in his throat. Peering into the sphere's core, he spotted something that made his brow furrow. A watch? Right in the center, a bulky wristwatch glowed faintly, its dial an angular green hourglass symbol. The watch seemed… alive, as if waiting for him.

"A watch…? What's a watch doing in outer space?" He couldn't help but smirk at the absurdity of it. His left hand stretched out, fingers brushing the air as he reached for the device.

Without warning, the watch sprang to life, lunging from its resting place. Before Ben could react, the device clamped itself tightly around his wrist with a mechanical hiss.

"AHHH!" He screamed, flailing his arm wildly as the watch tightened its hold. "GET OFF ME! GET OFF! GET OFF!" His voice was high-pitched, panicked, as he frantically tried to pry the device loose.

No matter how hard he pulled, the watch wouldn't budge. His heart raced, terror flooding his veins. What was this thing?! In his frenzy, he stumbled backward, losing his footing and crashing to the ground again. His breath came in ragged gasps as he scrambled to his feet, his mind in full-blown panic mode.

Without a second thought, Ben bolted out of the crater, racing into the forest as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Grandpa!"

…

Blackness surrounded him again, but faint murmurs drifted through the haze. Then, a warm, tingling sensation spread through his body, chasing away the aches and pains. It felt as though his injuries were being washed away, bit by bit, until nothing remained but a gentle warmth.

"He's waking up." He heard a voice say.

His eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry and unfocused. Above him, he made out a thatched roof supported by wooden beams. Whatever he was lying on felt soft—much softer than the damp ground he last remembered. Slowly, it registered that he was resting on a padded futon.

"Urgh," he groaned, his throat dry and scratchy. "What? Where—?" He trailed off as his gaze landed on a young girl with long blue hair standing beside him. Blue light radiated softly from her palms, which were placed on his exposed torso. The warmth he felt in his sleep seemed to be coming from her hands.

"There," the girl said gently, the blue light fading as she wiped sweat from her brow. "Good as new." She gave him a kind smile. "Are you feeling better?"

He blinked, still groggy and trying to piece together the situation. "Um… yeah, I actually do."

"What was that light? Why does it seem familiar?" he wondered, frowning slightly as he tried to recall anything, but the answer danced just out of reach.

"That's a relief." The girl exhaled softly. "I was worried we might have been too late to save you."

"Indeed," came another voice, soft and mature.

Ben turned his head, eyes widening as he took in the two other figures standing in the room—and a flying white cat dressed in clothes. He blinked hard, doing a double take. No, the cat was definitely floating and for some reason had white wings that looked angelic. He would've wondered if he was actually dead if it hadn't been for the fact he woke up from pain.

The speaker was a striking woman with porcelain skin, lavender eyes, and a red gem on her forehead. She wore a lavender skirt and top that showcased her torso, her outfit both elegant and revealing, with a purple cloak draped over her shoulders. A black veil covered the lower half of her face, adorned with a gold symbol shaped like a cat.

"It's fortunate that Maguna, Wendy and Carla found you when they did." the woman continued in a gentle voice. "Otherwise, you may have drowned."

"Drowned?" Ben muttered as he gingerly sat up, his head spinning slightly.

"We found you clinging to a log in the river unconscious." Carla—the white flying cat—chimed in, her voice sharp but not unkind. Ben startled slightly, the realization hitting him that yes, the cat could talk.

"The river? Why was I…?" His thoughts drifted back to his last waking moments: the forest, walking aimlessly, and then that green-and-pink gorilla-like beast. "Oh right." he recalled sourly, wincing at the memory.

"I see." He rubbed the back of his neck, still processing everything. "T-thank you then. For saving me," he added sincerely,

"You should thank Wendy. She's the one who used her Healing Magic to treat you." Carla said pointedly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You were in pretty rough shape."

The young man blinked twice, trying to wrap his mind around everything. "Healing Magic?" He turned to Wendy, his gaze shifting to her hands which had been glowing moments ago. "Was that the blue light on your hands?"

Wendy nodded shyly, brushing a strand of her long blue hair behind her ear. "Yeah, that's my Sky Magic."

"That's cool. Um… so your magic isn't pink?"

Wendy blinked, clearly bewildered. "Uh, no… Why would it be pink?"

He shrugged, his brow furrowing as he tried to grasp why that color came to mind. "I… dunno. When you said magic, pink was the first thing I thought of for some reason." He shook his head, brushing it off. "Anyway, thank you. You really saved me, Wendy."

Wendy's face brightened into a wide, sincere smile. "You don't need to thank me! I'm just happy I could help."

Standing a little further off, a small elderly man watched the exchange, stroking his long white beard thoughtfully. His piercing eyes, hidden under bushy eyebrows, observed the boy's reactions closely. "He assumed her magic was pink? Curious." He coughed to get their attention, causing everyone in the room to turn toward him.

"Well fate must have been smiling on you, young man," the old man said, his voice gravelly but kind.

"More like sneering." The amnesiac teen thought bitterly. "Um, who are you guys? And… where am I?"

"I am Roubaul." the old man said, stepping forward and gesturing to the others. "You're already acquainted with Wendy and Carla."

Ben turned toward Wendy and Carla again, giving them a small smile. Wendy shyly returned it, while Carla huffed and looked away.

"And this is Pepel." Roubaul continued, gesturing to the purple-clad woman. "One of our village's finer seamstresses. She was kind enough to offer you shelter while you recovered."

Pepel inclined her head gracefully. "A pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's mine," the brunet replied, nodding politely. "Thank you for letting me stay."

"It's no trouble at all," Pepel replied softly, her voice gentle behind her veil. "But… may we ask your name?"

His expression faltered. Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he admitted. "Well… this is awkward, but… I don't remember."

The room went quiet for a moment as the group processed his words.

"You don't remember your name?" Wendy asked, her voice full of concern as she tilted her head.

"Yeah… I think I've lost my memories," he confessed, his tone awkward but honest.

The weight of his admission seemed to sink into the room.

"Hold on." Wendy stepped closer, her brows furrowed in worry. "So, you have amnesia?"

"Pretty much." He nodded. "I mean, I remember some basic stuff, like how to speak and all that, but… not much else."

Wendy frowned. "You had a big bump on your head when we found you. Maybe that's what caused your memory loss."

"Do you recall how you ended up in the river?" Pepel asked curiously.

He nodded. "That part I do remember." He recounted the eerie marsh, the large tree, and his encounter with the green-and-pink gorilla beast that threw him into the river.

"That's awful!" Wendy gasped, her hands covering her mouth. "That monster was terrible!"

"It sounds like you encountered a Vulcan." Pepel added with a shake of her head. "Vile, perverse beasts. You're lucky to be alive, especially as a man."

Ben's brow furrowed. "Vulcan?" That species name didn't sound familiar either. "I've never heard of anything like that," he muttered to himself, then glanced at the others. "I guess I had a lucky break."

"I wouldn't call almost drowning lucky." Carla said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Considering that the Vulcan could've killed me on the spot, I'd say I was pretty lucky." he shot back with a small grin.

Roubaul hummed thoughtfully, stroking his beard. "Based on his description, it sounds like he woke up near Nirvana's resting place. But how could he have found it? Was he searching for it before losing his memories?" His gaze sharpened as he studied the boy, but he sensed no ill will from him. Still, something nagged at him. "I will need to watch him closely."

"Well," Roubaul finally said, breaking the silence, "you're free to stay in our village for as long as you need. Perhaps in time, your memories will return."

The young man smiled gratefully. "That's pretty generous of you. Thank you, sir."

Roubaul bowed his head. "Nabara."

Ben had no idea what that meant, but he went along with it, offering a nod in return. His gaze drifted around the room, taking in the simple yet ornately decorated space with its tribal designs. "So… where exactly am I?"

"You're in a village occupied by members of the Cait Shelter guild." Roubaul explained. "I am the chief and master of both."

"Cait Shelter?" Ben repeated, his confusion deepening.

Roubaul chuckled softly. "We're a small guild, so it's no surprise you haven't heard of us."

"I haven't heard of any guilds" Ben thought to himself, keeping his expression neutral. "Got it. So, where is Cait Shelter on the map?"

"To the south of Worth Woodsea," Roubaul answered patiently.

Ben blinked, a blank look on his face.

"A few days' journey from Clover?"

Still nothing.

"Kingdom of Fiore?" Roubaul now seemed surprised.

Ben could only shrug. "Doesn't ring any bells."

"Hmm." Roubaul stroked his beard thoughtfully before glancing at Wendy and Carla. "After our guest recovers, why don't you show him the guild hall and our latest map of the continent? Perhaps seeing it will jog his memory."

Wendy lit up with excitement. "Sure thing, master!"

Carla on the other hand sighed with mild annoyance.

Ben shifted under the blanket, noticing for the first time that he was wearing a simple white, short-sleeved shirt and tan knee-length pants. His old clothes were gone, but his bruises and cuts were healed, thanks to Wendy's magic.

Pepel noticed his confusion and spoke up. "As Wendy was treating you, I took the liberty of cleaning the dirt off and dressing you in something more comfortable."

"Oh… uh, thanks," Ben stammered, his cheeks turning slightly red at the thought of her seeing him in such a state. At least she wasn't teasing him about it.

"Your shirt and pants were beyond repair, I'm afraid. But you did have a green jacket that wasn't in bad shape. I can mend it for you if you'd like?"

Ben smiled, grateful. "That'd be great, thank you." He didn't know why but knowing that particular piece of clothing will be fixed made him feel pleased. He wondered what connection he might have to it.

Pepel nodded kindly.

"My jacket…" His thoughts suddenly drifted to the green jacket and the black circle with the number 10 emblazoned on the chest. "Ten…" A memory surfaced, a faint but familiar one. Something clicked in his mind, sparking recognition.

"So… I know you don't remember everything," Wendy started cautiously, "but what should we call you?"

His green eyes widened as the missing piece finally fell into place. "...Ben…"

The group stared at him curiously.

"Ben?" Wendy repeated.

"I remember." He smiled, the certainty in his voice growing stronger as the memory of his very identity came back to him with just two words. "That's my name. My name is Ben. Ben Tennyson."

…

A/N: Credit to Masamune X23 for his contributions in beta-reading this chapter.

Below are some links to images of the Cait Shelter community, Maguna, and Pepel.

Maguna and Pepel were the name of the two random guild members that Wendy shouted as her guild disappeared in the Oracion Seis arc. Here I decided to give them some screen time.

(Remove dots, spaces, and parentheses)

Cait Shelter village: sta(*dot*) sh/ 01erecm3wxjg

Maguna: sta(*dot*) sh / 09e7hhz9cn0

Pepel:

sta(*dot*) sh / 0y6lxowasxk

sta(*dot*) sh / 072wl0bz6mx

There will be a full Author's note in chapter 3 regarding why I had taken down this story and reposted it.