“Silence… cold, dark, senseless silence. Truly, is this how I am to spend eternity? Locked in time by children within a world not my own? Have they forgotten me?”

Birds chattered feverishly deep within the forest as the air grew humid in the radiance of the rising sun. Within a clearing, a man stood tall – paralyzed – unmoving and unflinching, gazing beyond the horizon. Maroon, leathery wings extended far from behind his back, flexed wide open to cast an enormous shadow across the overgrown grass.

I have not felt such serenity since before my calling. For the first time in a year, thoughts filled the petrified man’s head. He felt the blades of grass brush against his rusted greaves ever so slightly, sending another set of thoughts into his head.

Oh? Is it time to go? The vines wrapped around his legs withered, and the grass turned gray and dead. The breeze blew around him. He felt it; feeling was returning to his body. Energy began to flow through him as a contentedness filled his heart.

He blinked.

His eyes darted around, and he shuddered. Dust floated off him as he clenched his fingers as though attempting to grab something. His mouth opened, and a breath escaped. His eyes glared as his face contorted into a frown, his dark-gray hair floating down from its suspended state.

At last, he lurched forward, collapsing onto the ground, his armor rattling. Dust flew up around him with dead and decayed leaves twirling in the air. His wings slowly drifted down onto the ground alongside him. He panted for breath as he lay there motionless. He placed his hands beneath him and – with a grunt – he slowly lifted himself up. His arms shook and his breath came out in shaking, raspy coughs. His wings flexed a bit, but still hung limp.

His head slowly looked around as he recognized his last battlefield, now overgrown with shrubs, wheatgrass and vines. He shielded his eyes from the brilliance of the sun and grinned. He let out a gentle chuckle.

“Ha… hahaha…!” He suddenly heaved and collapsed back down, coughing violently, sending another flurry of dry greenery into the air. His eyes went wide as he spat and nearly threw up.

“Nngh, unbelievable…” he rasped. The middle-aged man reached out and gripped a small branch of a tree. Almost immediately, the tree creaked and shuddered, before leaves fell from it. The trunk withered and rotted away, shriveling up as it sagged. Moments later it snapped, collapsing away from the man, causing the slightest gust of wind to erupt from the ground as the wood hit the foliage.

“Ah… much better…” he said, taking a deep breath as he shivered again, coughing a few times before standing up tall. He stretched and held a hand in front of him. He found his vision doubled as he squinted and attempted to focus.

The man turned his gaze to the woods, where a deer stood on edge, staring right back at him, ears skyward. “Ah, well this is embarrassing…” he grumbled as he walked around a little, rolling his shoulders back as he recovered feeling in his body. The deer took off as the man explored.

“It seems my magic remains; I suppose they could not take that from me…” he wondered aloud as he felt his blood fill with the warmth of magic. His senses rose, and he felt as though he could hear every living thing in the woods.

“Did the young Keeper think his magic strong enough to hold me forever?” the man pondered. “Or did he and his comrades, perhaps, forget about me?” As he said this, he heaved and coughed again, shivering violently.

“Cursed time magic… my body isn’t running yet-!” he gasped and spat.

As he recovered from his coughing fit, he let out a choked breath and looked up, squinting.

“Clear, blue skies; a gentle breeze; somehow, they did it.” He chuckled as a look of wonder spread across his face. “Mennic has fallen…”

He stretched a little and walked through the forest. “That mere children could change the tide of fate… what a strange realm this Alarulin is.”

His mind drifted. “Children… that’s right, the princesses. I wonder if they survived.”

He continued his walk through the woods. His hair brushed over his face as he squinted, the breeze sending a chill through his body as he dragged his feet along the ground.

“If this is anything like home-” He paused as he raised his head, taking in the scents of the surrounding forest. “The musky smell of budding flowers and plant life. It must be Spring. I would have preferred it warmer. Mayhap I should have slept another couple months…” he thought aloud to himself.

He stopped in his tracks and glanced around, lost in thought as he bit his lip. “But what now, Tuulin?” He placed a finger to his head.

His eyes glazed over for a moment, then a thought crossed his mind. “Better question; What of my people? Without Mennic, who shall lead them? I am no leader…”

The wind blew and the leaves shuddered with anticipation as he asked the question. The world seemed intrigued by the foreigner.

“Hmm, perhaps I need not lead them at all…” He resumed his walk as a grin appeared on his face.