Who, Am I?

[We enter the lady's view]

There he stood. A man of around 6 feet more, pitch black mid-length flowy hair, pale skin, crimson eyes, a pronounced complexion, likely a human, with no (racially) defining traits (like pointed ears etc.). He is slender, long legs and long arms, still very human though, all things considered. He is wearing a black-silver robe, with the top ends enclosed. It is hard to figure out if it is enchanted, let alone what enchantment. Even though he has no casting gloves or any form of weaponry, we can't help but fear slightly.

This is the first recording of anyone from a possibly pre-catastrophe era awakening, any previous ones wasn't even close to the catastrophe age.

He seems to be examining us, or thinking of something, either case, it is good to know that he isn't out right hostile.

To be completely honest, we are not sure if he is a character from the pre-catastrophes. There were cases where power hungry people would pretend to be some kind of pre-catastrophe or catastrophe lord and power grab. Or scam, the later ones being more common. Something akin to: "I am the *** *** from *** during *** and I desperately need money....". Stupid for anyone intelligent enough to comprehend those words.

I need to know what he thinks of us, before we do anything. We need to know, if he is but a pretender, or one to whom we may bow.

[Back to our main character]

It is certain that I am not some easy target, their silence tells me something. That they are cautious too, that I, or some traits of mine, must serve some meaning... Otherwise they would have already called out at me... they outnumber me so much, and I don't even have a weapon.

So considering those, I thought of myself as not in severe danger, this is a game of patience and acting. The one to speak first, to break their expression first, will tell the most to their opponent. Normally, I would be foolish to stand here and not even speak, I may not be able to risk it. But now, I have a more important thing to do ---- figure out from where all of these information, knowledge and 'experience' come from. I have a feeling, that this will tell me the most, the sounds I heard, the images I saw... 'Vlain'... 'Franz'... the mercenary...

Those gave me some courage to stand there and simply think, tis a bit... risky, but some instinct told me that if I figure those out, everything will be so clear...

[There will be frequent view changes through out the tale, to hear what others think]

He isn't speaking at all, and he seems to be drifting into thoughts, he doesn't seem nervous at all, one can tell, from the contracted pupils, the parasympathetic nerves. Is he waiting for us to speak? Why would he be so willing to just stand there?

This silence must be broken, but for now I can't, I does not only have me and my man to be responsible. The moment our fear is given away, no matter what he is, we will still get trouble on us regardless. It is a fear so easy to be exploited. Potential pre-catastrophe character...

It has been a few seconds, their men are tensed, it can be felt. It isn't told to any, for the opponent is in his deep thoughts, but those same men, will snap any moment too.

I scoured through my mind, there isn't just the language and those images. There is so much more, so much more, but a lot seemed to be locked... for whatever reason. For example, I have no idea who I am, though I am sure I know, tis an instinct.

But one thing is very clear to me. The time frame is very important. I seemed to have some memory of a war, possibly the war 'Vlain' was going through. It broke out in the west north of the continent, between the northern nomads and the western kingdoms, which came up with an alliance. Vlain was probably living in a small kingdom around the mid-north continent. Where kingdoms are small, insignificant and corrupt. Also the only place where the war spread to after 9 years into it.

Then, through some fragmented, untraceable pieces of memory, there came an age of peace... though how it came about is unknown. Then... there seemed to be a disaster... where the world was torn into pieces worse than any time before it. How it came about, again, not known.

What age is it is very important. If it is during that disaster, these men will be easy to negotiate. They didn't attack on sight, meaning they are still sensible, and in that case, during the disaster, the orderly men were all hugging together to survive. But I don't have any memories of how the disaster ended, I just remember it coming to a certain peak.

So, I must know if that is still going on or not, since I have no idea how long I've been here. Or why, for that matter.

"What age... is it?" I asked, in the most calming voice I could muster. I can speak their language, don't know why, haven't found out yet, but at this point, that is just a small problem. the magics that I seemed know, apparently achieve a lot. Sadly I don't know how to use it.

He spoke. It was such a relaxation for us, I am sure that someone is going to snap under that pressure if it continued. I am glad that it isn't a problematic one. But it isn't an easy one either.

I am a little bit shocked at the fact that he speak our language. But that is the least to our concern, great wizards can speak any language with the snap of a finger.

"What do you mean?" I asked, I am sure he doesn't need to know our calendar, it means nothing to him. If he knows about it, I will be quite concerned over the fact that if he is but a pretender or not. Those ancients have a calendar of their own.

"No... no need to tell me some year number. Tell me, is the disaster gone?" It is a gamble, this is such a crucial information. It tells too much about me, but I can't think of any other thing. Plus, I just have this odd feeling that it is going to turn out better than I thought.

I can't tell much from this. Any pretender could just pretend to not know about anything and ask... My man are still standing still, Harald isn't giving off any signs of suspicion, so at least he isn't attempting anything. At least isn't from what we can tell.

"What disaster are you talking about? There has been many."

This is not good, because the more I say, the less they assume. Which might be bad for me. But I can't hang it there either.

"The one which shattered grounds, the one where the devils rose, the one where tyrants ruled." This is a summary of the disaster people back then described it. It is vague enough to be used here.

He is talking about the catastrophe, that was how people back then described it, it is the few things we found from those devastated ruins. A few men slightly twitched, can't blame them, I only hope he noticed none.

"If it is the one which I believe to be, it has long gone since"

Great. Now I have no things to say.

"It has gone..." I spoke in the most un-telling tone possible, as I buy myself some time. I try to recall anything, anything I can make use of.

It is a pool of void inside my mind. But then I remembered something. I had a longsword, in my soul. Why is it in my soul? I don't know why, what is a soul? No idea. How did it get there? No idea.

But it is something.

At least now I have something to fall back to. For some curious reason, the instant I lay my eye upon it, I seemed to calm down. A few information popped into my mind:

Soul-Bind Longsword of ***, A sword once possessed by a powerful lord, whom did not die, but whom died. Enchanted with **** magic, on the most basic level of utilisation, it is able to send freezing chills (At passive, -20 degree C, activates when on contact) down a person.

Grave Yew, An enchanted mage robe, nothing too interesting, all it does is seals a mage's magic prowess and prevents any resurrection/awaken undead spells to be casted on the wearer, and the seal is still active.

So I should throw the robe away. I won't do that for now, but should things go south, that is a last gamble. To see if I am capable of casting.

I now have some confidence, and makes another move. In reality, time only passed for a single digit of a second.

"So, what could you tell me? About you, and your... legion." I asked.

He thought for a second after seemingly pondering on the fact that the disaster has already gone, and then asked me what I can tell him about us. This the worst, what caused this sudden aggressiveness? My men are looking at me, my gesture depends on if they will attack him or not.

It was too long a battle mentally fought. I wanted it to end. This not going anywhere, my brain wasn't working, when he was so passive, I should have realised he was cautious too, but I didn't, there were too many things in my thoughts then. Now attacking is pointless, he is prepared to be so aggressive. I must fire back, not through arms.

"I am Duchess Silvan Valentine, the youngest and most prominent duke of the kingdom of Fiersha. Now tell me, who, are you?"