The Albino

T’was dark. confusing mists wafted about like an indecisive pestilence. Here and there, voices whispered.

“….. Son of Terra….” Benjamin spun to see who spoke only to see but a fading figure in the mists.

“….I want Death by Carnivore…” Benjamin recognized his sisters voice. A flash of her blond hair caught his attention, and he turned to hug her only to come face to face with a horror.

“… Knock knock, fucker…” The expressionless face hidden in a balaclava, red dots turning to gunshots, one on his cheek, his left eye.. the base of his throat. Benjamin recoiled in horror, spinning to run away only to be assailed by the acrid smell of dozens of rounds of ammunition fired indoors with too little circulation… a shriek pushed Benjamin forward, through the murky, almost viscos atmosphere.

“…Peace, Son of Terra…” Benjamin ignored the soothing voice pushing towards the sounds of struggle.

Suddenly he was in a hallway, his Lage machine gun in hand … a strange female made of light standing before him “I need your soul.”

Benjamin took a step back raising his rifle at the being before she flashed brightly and vanished. Two men stood in her place., one dragging his sister by the hair, her nose broken, her eyes wide in terror.

The defending roar of three weapons bellowing their rage overpowered his senses.

BEN!!! STAY… DON’T GO!!! Benjamin’s sister raced towards him only to turn into mist herself.

Pain.. Benjamin, alone in a sea of swirling grey looked down, watching his body pour its lifeblood from a dozen holes. He touched one of them, trying to stop the bleeding, ripping at something between him and his body.

NOOOOOOOOOO!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!

Benjamin’s eyes flew open, screaming uncontrollably, surrounded by brown, dimly lit brown, a fur blanket covered him as he pawed frantically at it.

“NOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!” Was all he was capable of howling, throwing off the blanket and curling his knees to himself shaking uncontrollably as Sobs finally overtook his screaming. Moments later, the door on the other end of the room burst open. “WHAT THE FUCK!! Was all Benjamin could scream as the hulking green monster burst into the room. Benjamin threw himself into a corner, back against the wall. His eyes frantically searched for any makeshift weapon.

“PEACE!! Easy there pink skin..” the thing in front of Benjamin said, deep rumbling voice resonating inside the small confined space. “You are safe here…. Calm yourself, you will not be harmed.” Benjamin stopped, less out of reassurance and more from pure shock. The being in front of him was speaking to him.. Benjamin could understand him, yet he was acutely aware of the fact that the language was not anything he had ever experienced before.

Stranger yet was the being itself. It appeared male, and stood less than an inch shorter than Benjamin. Dark, almost pine tree green eyes punctuated a square jaw and smallish nose, and upward facing tusks. A dark green complexion, almost as dark as his eyes rippled with lean power, but lacked the mass that Benjamin had put on in the last two years. The being before him looked like a fantasy orc… if someone had forgotten to give them absurd muscles, heavy brows and severe underbites. If anything, the being appeared to be a hybrid of Orc and Elf from fantasy book Benjamin red as a kid. Small but decidedly pointed ears protruded out of crudely cut Black hair. This vaguely Orc like male was wearing clothes, a simple grey tunic and brown leather pants. Both were roughly made but serviceable.

“Are you ok, pink skin.” The being spoke. His language rolled and rumbled, edged with guttural accents that reminded Benjamin of several different languages. He did not hear his new acquaintance in English, however his mind responded to the words; translating them almost like he was back visiting his dad’s side of the family in Finland.

“Who the… who are you.” Benjamin finally got out, surprised to hear his own voice return his thoughts in this strange language. That realization triggered his memories all over again, and the violent flashback left him shaking.

“Do you not hear me, pink skin. I am Jukha. I found you.” The being stated. “Who are you in return.”

“Ben, short for Benjamin.”

“Well Ben short for Benjamin. Please, calm yourself and sit. I’m afraid you did not come with any clothes, my bound will be making some of my spare garments larger for you. It is not yet early morning. Rest, pink skin. I will come check on you when the sun wakes.” Jukha said, turning and closing the door behind him without waiting for reply.

Ben stood there for several more moments, waiting to see if this was a dream… nothing happened and soon Ben’s body began to shake uncontrollably as his body purged the adrenaline that it had used to wake him from his nightmare.

Except, it wasn’t a nightmare. The last time he was awake, he was bleeding out with his head in his sister’s lap as she frantically tried to save him. His mind would not relent, playing his own final moments again before adding in whatever it was that had transpired after. Ben remembered it, he just wasn’t sure he believed it. He dared not sleep again, and soon the first rays of the day began to shine in through the window.

Benjamin did not stir, watching the long streak of amber as it traced its way across the wall. He lost all sense of time, His mind holding him captive as he was forced to repeatedly relive his own death. He did not here the knock at the door. His eyes and ears blinded by the turmoil inside, He was motionless as another entity entered the room, touching him on the arm softly. “Been’jaymene

?”

Benjamin was ripped out of his stupor with a start, flinging himself backward wide eyed as he registered someone next to him for the first time.

“Been’Jaymene? My bound asked me to fix some of his garments for you. I did not wish to scare you” The voice was soft, almost velvet. Benjamin finally focused on who was in front of him, only to inhale in surprise and confusion. She stood barely 5 feet tall, Her skin was a dark tanned complexion with faint speckling about her cheeks, neck, arms and legs that seemed to shimmer in different colors as she regarded him in concern. Her eyes were slightly larger than a her face would suggest proportional, with a small sharp nose, high cheekbones and a smallish mouth with full lips. She wore a green roughly made halter top made of leather covering her small but not nonexistent chest before flaring out into a black cloth skirt.

“I… I apologize,” Ben stammered, bunching up the blanket around his waist in a belated attempt at modesty, “I… I’m not myself. Thank you for the clothes” He barely got out before the woman flared out 4 pairs of shimmering wings not unlike that of a dragonfly and began to flutter them slightly, performing a quick surprised rearward hover after Benjamin reached out, taking the offered clothing..

“You speak Orcish?” She asked in surprise. “I have yet to meet a being such as yourself. I am Vilora, life bound mate of Jukha.”

“I’m. Benjamin. I’m… not sure what I am. You may just call me Ben, if my name is difficult for you to pronounce.” Vilora raised an eyebrow as he pronounced his name, “I… I do not know where I am, or how long I have been here. Am I… Am I dead?” Ben looked up into her eyes as he asked, “I need to know… Is this the afterlife? Is this heaven or.. Somewhere else.”

Vilora’s eyes widened at his question, “This is not the afterlife, Ben. This is the ‘Fegilis Arborillium’.” She paused at Benjamins confused expression, “Apologies, that is its name in my peoples tongue. In Orcish it would be called the Feral Wood. We are a half days walk from the village that jukha hunts for… Do you not know your own lands?”

“I am… very far from home.” Benjamin stated finally. “I’ve never heard of this place. I’ve never seen anyone that looks like Jukha, or you. What… What are you.”

“I am Feylafiulda. In Orcish that would translate to a Farie.” Vilora stated giving a small hovering spin. “Dress, Ben’Jamin. Jukha needs help in the skinning yard, He wishes to speak since you no longer slumber.” She said, giving him a very serious look before shivering and departing.

Ben slowly slipped out from the fur blanket, pulling on the slightly scratchy tunic and pants. They were just a touch larger than would be fitting, but they did not fall off; and Ben slowly stepped out of the room for the first time since he awoke. He stepped into a simple combined living room and kitchen with a fireplace at one end, and an iron stove in the kitchen that appeared to be capable of holding cooking pots on its top. Vilora was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of something savory, but completely foreign in aroma. “He waits for you. Out the door, and to the left past the pigs.” Ben nodded a thank you and stepped out of the log cabin into the unrepentant ambiance of a subsistence farm. The aroma’s assailed Ben with a familiar scent as he passed the pens and came face to face with what he had learned was the Orc that had found him.

“Ah, Ben short for Benjamin. I see you finally awoke from your slumber. I was beginning to wonder if you were a nightborn.”

“Just Ben will do, Nightborn?” Benjamin asked, still uncomfortable with the language coming from his own mouth.

“You don’t, Oh.” Jukha said, walking over to Ben with a butchering knife in hand. Ben took a single step back and readied himself and Jukha froze momentarily as the intention of violence registered. He followed Bens steady gaze to his knife. “Ah, I see you are not an innocent. My apologies.” The Orc Flicked the knife back towards the hanging animal, smoothly impaling the blade into the wall next to it. “Ben, what is the last thing you remember.” The Orc walked up slowly, spreading his hands in a peaceful nature before slowly inspecting Ben’s arms, face and body for any signs of a struggle. “You look remarkably untouched for one whom violence has so clearly flailed.”

“The last thing I remember was three men, sho…. Fighting with me. I believe they were there to violate my little sister.” Jukha’s eyes snapped to Benjamin’s as the vitriol registered. “I… I killed them..” Bengamin paused, fighting another flashback down, “But I thought they killed me too... until..” flashes of a light born female, and their conversation burst through his mind. “Then I woke up in your home.” Ben lied.

Jukha caught it, eyeing up Ben with a piercing gaze. “Benjamin, please. No falsehoods, if you wish to keep your secrets do so. But be forthright about them. It is one of the greatest transgressions a man of worth can commit.”

“I… I understand. Yes, there is more. It is hard to even think about. I still feel the pain, even in memory, and I fear for my sister. I am sorry.” Benjamin answered, bowing his head slightly.

“A falsehood born of pain and fear can be forgiven, once.” The Orc said after a moment. “Come, working with one’s hands tends to salve the mind.” He picked up a second knife and more slowly turned its handle toward Benjamin.

Benjamin was no stranger to skinning game, but he followed Jukha’s instructions with this animal he knew nothing about. Soon the beast was skinned and quartered, separated onto different racks to cure properly. Jukha nodded in approval, “Your skills with an animal are practiced.”

“I hunted when I was younger, but I haven’t been out in a few years now.” Ben stated, washing his hands of the animals bodily fluids after cleaning the knife he was given and slipping it back into its home in the shed. “I’ve hunted a few animals close to this size, but I’ve not seen a beast such as this.”

Jukha gave him a glance, “Truth? Yarkinal Deer are quite common just about everywhere in the Realm.”

“Im.. I’m from very, very far away.” Ben said slowly, “I would like to just leave it at that.”

Jukha grunted a nod, stowing his own tools before guiding the two back toward the cabin, “I need to get the Yar-Deer into town by sundown. I would welcome the company.”

“I don’t see the harm. I need to learn the lay of the land sooner or later.” Ben offered, garnering a snort from Jukha.

“Lay of the land, I’ve never heard that turn of tongue; but it has a nice simplicity to it.” Jukha said as the two stepped into the house to the smell of something truly delicious being spooned into a set of bowls. “I’ll not have my ‘Yor’krivlas travel to town without a full mid-day gullet.” Vilora called, walking over to the two with her wings buzzing slightly. “Stew is ready. I’ve Jerky and Tack in your travel bag as well, enough for the two of you.”

Jukha waved off the question on Benjamins face as they were ushered to the small rough hewn table and chairs. “So an Orc and a Farie. I’m not sure I would have ever guessed that match.”

“You know of our kind?” Volira asked between bites, “You told me that you had never seen one of my people before.”

“Its… Complicated.” Ben started, “Where I am from, your species don’t exist. We have stories, works of fiction with creatures named after the two of your people, and many more. But they are only the imagination of writers and storytellers.” Ben paused.. “My sister loved those stories.. When she was young, She made me read Tolkien at bedtime after….” Another flashback began and Ben knew he was along for the ride.

He began to sweat as the memories tore through his mind, and he was along for the ride. He was seeing everything from his own eyes perspective up until he heard his sister scream, he jumped up from his bed but looked on in confused horror as his body left him behind, headed toward the door. He felt the pain of the first glancing gunshot, but this time he heard a quiet gasp from next to him. He looked to his left to see Volira, right hand clamped onto his left hard enough to whiten her knuckles. Her wings were glowing brightly but not moving as she hovered next to him in his own memory. The two of them stayed rooted in place as Ben’s memory self frantically ripping through his closet to get to the tall thin gun safe in the back, a females ever present screams goading him on. A familiar weapon seemed to appear in his hand as he ran to his bed, pulling a loaded Drum magazine from under it, slamming it into the weapon before charging the open bolt Lage. Both of them heard it “knock knock, fucker” and they could only watch as Benjamin’s memory unleashed hellfire and supersonic metal into his closed door before Bens memory kicked open the door, and stepped into the hall.

Three weapons roared as one, and Benjamin watched himself take hit after hit while still holding the bucking machine gun with grim determination. He felt every round hit, and just as he was about to fall, a strange lurching sensation ripped him out of the flashback. Across from him sat Volira, wings glowing, her two eyes locked on his with a third blazing in between her brows. She just stared for a long moment before pulling her hand from his, bringing it to her mouth as her third eye closed and tears began to form in her other two. She was breathing heavily, her wings sagging as she fought to contain the physiological repercussions of what had just happened.

Benjamin just looked back at her in a mix of awe, confusion and sorrow as the sharp pain of seeing the loss of his whole life flash in front of his eyes again. He had heard of some of Dad’s Veteran friends describe this phenomenon, but now he truly understood why they hated fireworks, refused to talk about their tours, and despised medals ceremonies.

“Volira, Are you ok?” Jukha looked between Ben and his Mate. “Benjamin, what happened. Where were you.”

“I…” Ben stuttered, “A memory… One I wish did not haunt me as it does. One I was not ready to share.”

“I’m… so sorry…” It was Volira. She was no longer weeping, and her eyes held his with a steadiness he seemed forced to reciprocate. “I did not intend that. I… felt the turmoil in your soul and sought to comfort you. Your mind is… different than other peoples of the Realm. I did not mean tread into your memory” Benjamin began to say something, but she held up her hand, “You do not need to speak the unspeakable. Know this, your memory will be taken to my grave. It is yours to tell as you see fit. I swear this.” She held Benjamin’s gaze for a long moment before nodding, changing the subject, “I see your food will have to wait. I’ll add some jerky to the packs for later. Go! You can’t afford to be late!” She sho’ed the two of them out the door.

“Ben, I’ll be just a moment. I wish to give my bound a proper goodbye.” Jukha let Ben move ahead of him and pulled Volira into a passion filled kiss. “Are you truly ok, my love.”

“I am… but…” Volira pulled him close, “I saw something… I’m not completely sure… He…. He …” she paused, gathering herself, “I think he is H’mureanis”

Jukha stiffened. The Farie were the longest lived of all, and they were the only ones left whom had the living memory of the dark times from the Age of the H’mure. The species ruled with an Iron fist for over 4,000 years before being driven into the eastern sea by a combined army of every other race in the Realm. It was believed that there was nothing but the edge of the world past the eastern sea… but if they were wrong… If one was back. “I will kill him, He already lied to me once. It was a small one, excusable because of his obvious trauma… but…”

“NO.” The word was soft but carried a resonance through Jukha’s soul. “I may not know if he truly is one of the H’mure… He has gone through something unspeakable, and… I felt the touch of the Olde Ones.” Volira’s reverence in her last statement widened Jukha’s eyes. It had been over 1500 years since the H’mure were defeated, almost as long since the Olde Ones showed themselves to the people for the last time. If this Benjamin was touched by Cosmos…

“I will not touch him as long as he gives me no cause to… but, we will need answers before long.” Jukha relented, turning to head out to the Floxorin pulled wagon. The shaggy bovine beast bawled softly at his presence. “Are we ready, Benjamin?” Jukha asked, putting on a practiced calm.

“I guess so, pelts and quarters. Snacks, and travel rolls. At least we don’t have to Ruck it.” Ben responded.

Jukha ignored the odd turn of phrase, instead nodding approvingly and clicking his tongue. The wagon lurched as the Floxorin started to pull, and soon his beloved homestead vanished from sight.