The ash swirled around him as the elf strode heavily across the scarred and burnt landscape. In every direction the barren hills rolled to the horizon. Ash fell like a black snow and the deafening wind numbed his skin where it was exposed. He had the feeling something was not right, but the elf could not quite place what was amiss. He was walking the hills, but he had always been walking the hills. As long as his memory stretched he had been here, so this is where he was supposed to be. As long as he remembered the wind had blown, the ash had fallen and he had walked. What could be wrong?
It did not matter which direction he walked. At times he would turn this way or that. Some hills he meandered around and some hills he charged up and flew down the other side. There was no concept of direction because there was no way to tell which way you were going. Each hill looked like the one before it and the one after it. There were no signs, posts, roads or sun.
The elf stopped walking. The sun. In a distant memory he could remember the sun. A brightly burning sphere that was up high. Somewhere where it could not be touched and so bright that looking at it could blind you. And warm, so warm. Warm to his very bones - his skin ached with the memory, and very briefly the wind lulled. As it did he thought he heard the sounds of battle, far in the distance.
"Who would be fighting?"
He was surprised to hear the words come from his mouth. He knew he could speak but why would he, there was nobody to speak to and certainly nobody to be fighting against.
Now he was certain something was very wrong, he looked down at his tattered robes and saw the blood. Flowing warmth down his legs from of two large holes in his abdomen. He could see pink viscera falling from the wounds and he moved his arm to put them back inside. Pain shot down from his right shoulder and he noticed his arm would not move correctly. He felt his right shoulder with his left arm and was horrified to feel the large hole, as if an animal had bitten nearly through his shoulder. Mashed and mangled bones exploded with pain and his knees buckled beneath him. He collapsed to the ground, trying to scream but now no noise would come.
The wind came roaring back now and he forgot all notions of the sun or battle, even his wounds were forgotten and he stood slowly in the barren wasteland. Picking a direction, he began walking again. The ash swirled around him as the elf strode across the landscape.
