I, the Catkin... or something

'This...` is unfamiliar? Is wrong? Is so unbelievably different? And most recently also so.. so sad. On top of all things it's not how things were supposed to go. Or was it?

He couldn't remember. Not really anyways. This time not a product of his usual forgetfulness. This was a clean black out of his mind with no discernible start or finish.

'I.. me?' He had to get up. His body felt broken, lying beneath a mound of rubble.

Splinters of wood and pieces of stone fell off him as he hefted himself to his knees. The stench of burned wood wafting into his nose just as he finally stood up. Easier than he though it would be.

Looking around the ruined walls encompassing the alleyway he found himself in, he stumbled forward to the exit. The only source of light casting deep and hungry shadows behind his sorry form.

Orange flickering light reflected in his eyes as he gazed into the inferno nearest to him. Seeing the flames licking up the beams of collapsed stone housing, images flickered alive in his mind. With them his tinnitus got louder and louder until it got unbearable.

Trying to rub his ears, to get some more semblance to his sense, he discovered a feeling of wrongness on the sides of his head. His neck hair standing up in anger.. and was it fear?

Rubbing his slightly fatty, dusty and messy hair away he felt impressions. His ear canals laying bare to the world. Tracing the thick mutilated scars atop it and trying to instinctively rub up towards the tip of his ear, he could feel mothers phantom fingers rubbing the hairy tips of his sensitive ears which made him squirm under the touch. The sensitive organ feeling wholly uncomfortable.

'Not more uncomfortable than now' for they were missing. Memories tried to come back to him, but he suppressed them, knowing he didn't really wanted to deal with this right now.

His tail moved instinctively into the palm of his hand, giving him a soft comfort to hold on to. He, was a catkin. 'Damn, all this feels so unreal. Yet, ...' He could feel the hot air in his face, the bruises adorning his torso and the small splinter that lodged itself into his bare foot.

Walking forward slowly, he watched the world happening around him. The only thing he could hear was his tinnitus in the back of his mind, making itself just known enough to constantly force him to acknowledge it.

The small streets were empty, him being the sole person around. Nobody tried to put down the fires. Everybody alive has already fled or was hiding in a safe place. Not that many people even lived here at all. The richer districts had their own troubles. Almost no one will even consider helping some sorry souls around here.

Seeing a larger mound of rubble in front of him, he climbed to the top to get a proper view. There wasn't much to see. Too much smoke in the air limiting his view. But what was visible was much of the same.

Finally allowing himself to remind himself of what happened here, he scoured his brain for an answer. It wasn't hard to miss. It was a hot topic around here, literally.

The Adventurers weren't fighting anymore. What exactly happened eluded him. Political problems between the Familia's.... His thought's slowed again. Everything again gained the unreal feeling of slight familiarity that should just not be.

'Orario...' "h..." 'Fuck' No words were able to came out of his mouth. His throat felt raw and an icy feeling spread in his chest. 'This isn't possible' He needed time to process all this properly. But now was not the time. He couldn't allow himself to fall into despair now.

He knew too little to be calm about all of this, but he did know enough to maybe seek help. 'But from whom?' He was sure to be an enigma to the gods if his true identity was concerned. 'But who even was he?'

If he looked hard enough, he had memories of his life, in both cases it must have met an unfortunate end, only to continue despite the calling of the natural order. He literally defied the god of death 'haha'. Whoever it might be in this realm. 'Hades?.. no'

He knew of Orario not only as a poor orphaned citizen, but also as a fictional dungeon city full of adventurers trying to achieve fame and fortune, starring a white haired boy named Bell Cranel.

As far as he knew what he found himself in was the aftermath of the failed quest of the Hera and Zeus Familia's and the following political squabbles from Loki and Freya trying to gain power and banishing the aforementioned Gods from Orario.

Some must not have been happy with this. The destruction following the anger of certain individuals was quite evident around him. He didn't remember this event from the show. So it must not have been very damaging in the grand scheme of things. 'Ironic'

So many lives destroyed, so many hopes of escaping poverty crushed. At least he gained it. His mental state was refreshed and he could think clearly and actually be determined for once. He had to be careful to learn from his mistakes and not fall into the same holes again.

Starting with getting his falna back. He could remember having one before. 'before they... Shit' He was getting his revenge for sure. The Bastards would pay. He wasn't a very moral code abiding person. It would prove useful.

Sitting down he pulled the splinter out his heel, surprised at his pain tolerance. It didn't really bother him that much. 'It came from...Fuck' He had a fucking problem and he wished he could talk with his therapist right now.

But he couldn't talk anymore, neither hear what comforting words anybody might say to him. He was mute and deaf, with the exception of a tinnitus that acted up with his trauma. 'He was just a.. a cripple... no. He was a new man now. And he was damned if he gave up now, with all the chances and opportunities lying before him.

'And this', picking up a bloodied and cut adventurers equipment belt. While arriving at the bottom of the giant pile of rubble. Following the blood splatters and carved slashing marks in the pavement to the side he could see limbs lying under a collapse wall.

'Ridiculous, this power' It defied logic. 'Superhuman strength at the tip of your finger and you don't even use it properly.' He was to make sure the same didn't happen to him.

Taking the dagger sheath and small pouches attached to the belt and attaching them to his own, he picked up the missing weapon after lifting a few stones off the corpse. Still surprised by his own strength while doing so.

'Nice blade' He thought after appreciating the weapon. A well crafted and simple double bladed dagger, 2/3rd's of the length of his forearm. A tool for murder. Was he really ready to wield it? He tried to sight, but it didn't work. 'No going back now.' he sheathed the weapon and took a look at the insignia on the bodies clothes.

A small emblem of a person with a winged helmet was visible under all the dust, after thinking a bit, he deducted it must be from the Freya Familia. Having seen it once a long time ago.

'Time to get out of here.' He began to jog away from the place of murder and headed to the direction of the nearest wider street. He didn't know all of Orario. It was far too big for that. But he was sure to find his way if he followed the wide streets and the direction of the tower of babel still visible in the distance.

'Where should he go? The guild maybe? They won't really help me, neither do I want help from them really. They had to deal with the fallout of the Familia skirmish. Maybe a God? But who? Not Loki, not Freya, they orchestrated all this. I don't want to have anything to do with them.'

After thinking a bit he might have a solution if he was lucky and played his cards right. 'Fels the Fool was his name. A super old Sage, that is a skeleton somehow. He forgot why really, but maybe he could teach him magic.' Something he was obsessed about for the last two and a half minutes, when he remembered it actually existed.

'If I remember correctly he was serving Ouranos, a very powerful and old God. Could he get a falna from him? Unlikely, but he had to try. Bait him with knowledge of the Future.' Gods could tell if you lied´, something that could play into his favor.

Arriving at the first street with people, he slowed down to a walking pace. The few still on the street and not hiding in the perceived safety of their homes, were either hurrying somewhere, moving with purpose or being powerful enough to escape trouble when necessary.

Opening one of the pouches he felt the universal feeling of metal coins. Looking inside, he could tell that it was enough for now. Surely little money for an adventurer at least level 2.

Nearing the nearest clothing shop for the common folk, he knocked on the closed shopfront. Not being able to hear an answer, he knocked for a bit more, before leaving and trying at the next one.

Somebody actually peaked trough the door with a frightening look. Not seeing immediate danger and him showing valis in his hand he was let in. The shopkeeper obviously tried to ask him something and was unnerved with him not answering. Already regretting letting him in.

He paid him no mind, throwing around a thousand valis on the counter which distracted the shopkeeper and browsed the available clothing. He chose a simple grey long sleeved shirt and beige baggie pants.

Seeing the assortment of hats on a shelf in the corner he was intrigued by seeing so many similar designs from earth. He got an Idea and chose an almost black flat cap hat able to hide his disfigured ears.

Not out of fear or shame, but for avoiding attention and fashion. He always wanted to wear one but it didn't quite fit with the ongoing fashion.

'Boots, he needed boots.' He turned to the timid shopkeeper and pointed to his bare feet to get his point across, carefully cutting a small hole in the pants for his tail in the process. The fabric proving surprisingly durable. 'Weird magic shit'

It turned out they had only an assortment of cloth shoes and sandals. He didn't want to go somewhere else and just chose some medieval slip on shoes, that went well with his other attire. Looking quite modern despite the materials used. 'Fiction logic'

He tried to convey how much payment was needed and managed to find out a thousand was entirely enough. The shopkeeper not in the mood to haggle for more. From his knowledge, it was way more than needed for such clothes, though they seemed more durable than usual.

Going on his way again, he saw the shutter and door behind him close quite fast. 'Whatever'. He needed to find Fels. 'But where?' Only the guild came to his mind. Ouranos was supposed to be the founder of them or something. He apparently resided beneath the Guild main building, constantly watching the dungeon and making sure no monster tried to escape it's depths.

Finally arriving before the main guild building, he noticed the distressed figures rushing in, out and about. 'It must truly be a mess for them trying to keep order and uphold the law with the help of other Familias. And having to worry with those trying to take advantage of this state of turmoil.' In a way he was one of those persons himself.

Taking a deep breath, he was about to enter, before finally realizing he had no way of communicating or forming a plan of approach. He was mute, deaf and had no name. 'No name...' Such a weird feeling. He had to introduce himself somehow.

'He needed a name...'