Unfamiliar Lands

Call it fate, fortune, or some kind of divine miracle. Whatever it may be, when shifting from life to death, there's only one word that can describe the experience. Odd. It was as if every noise in existence were occurring all at once, yet I could hear nothing. Every feeling on my skin, every pain and every bliss, yet I had no skin to feel it on. The air reeked of iron, yet in those moments, I couldn't smell. Everything was happening around me, every moment at every place. I knew that much, but I was able to perceive none of it. As the experience reached its climax, it cut completely, save for the coarse dirt and ruined clothes upon my body.

No blood poured from my head, and no steel had crushed my legs. The blurred vision I had died with was gone, and I was perhaps seeing even better than before my accident. I clenched the earth below, trying to confirm my reality, as my face rose from the dry ground. Dirt crumbled in my hand, falling from my closed fist as long, purple strands of hair floated down from head. This wasn't my hair, I was sure. From the dirt, I slowly rose to my feet, my eyes falling upon pale skin, almost ghostly. It was as if I were a living corpse, and by all means, I was. In shock and confusion, my eyes drifted across the land on which I stood, taking in the sight that surrounded me.

Upon the dry, coarse dirt of the area laid hundreds of bodies, each stained with dry blood, likely their own. Seeing the blood that covered each and every set of clothes, my eyes drifted to my own, finding a thick layer of red on my chest. When my finger drew to the blood, running over my stained shirt, not even a drop clung to my skin. It didn't feel real as I limped forward, adrenaline from my earlier death keeping my afloat in spite of the pain in my legs. My efforts proved to be futile, however, when I collapsed back into the dirt, my vision once again turning to black.

When I awoke once more, jostled to life by the rocking of a wooden carriage, I was first greeted by an intense jolt of pain in my leg. As I clutched my leg, releasing a sharp curse that was perhaps a bit too audible, three heads turned to face me. Their clothes were odd, though after looking back down at my own blood-stained attire, I realized that I was in no place to judge. After an amused chuckle from one of the three people, a raspy voice came from the group, uncaring of my apparent injury.

"Mornin', Hitchhiker. Almost to the village, so don't go causin' any issue just yet."

It seemed that I was picked up some time after my graceful collapse. Running my fingers through the unfamiliar hair on my head, the confusion set in once more, though I was calm enough to receive it this time. It was nothing I had heard of before, to be certain. Though I at first thought it a dream, this was too real. I could feel everything, right down to the specks of dirt and dried mud that clung to my skin, small pieces chipping away with each hoofbeat of the horses that led the wagon. Coming to no conclusion, my attention was soon diverted to the others on the wagon. In my sorry state, their eyes were reminiscent of vultures, snakes hidden in the grass, waiting for their prey to make a move. As my eyes met theirs, my mouth drifted open, speaking through a dry throat.

"What is this..?"

My question was vague at best, as even I didn't know my exact intent. I didn't know what I was asking about, in all honesty. Everything was foreign, and though I had no clue where to begin, they seemed to understand my confusion. The same rough voice that greeted me before returned, though in a slightly more relaxed tone.

"You were restin' in a field of bodies. Clan members of yours, yeah? Nara here recognized your breathin', decided to pick you up 'nd see what goes from there."

The man turned to this "Nara" person, giving her a rather forceful pat on the back, though it was clear that he meant no harm by it. She was a woman around my age, likely some years older. Her hair was long and as black as coal, falling loosely on white robes. With a slightly irked expression, the woman spoke with a certain rhythm, almost hypnotic compared to the coarse voice of the other man.

"Don't make it sound like I go around kidnapping half-dead children, Akio. I still…"

As Nara continued to speak to Akio, a rough-looking man with a bald head that was littered with scars, my thoughts drifted astray, honing in on a single word. Children. Raisings my hands in front of my eyes, I inspected my dirt-stained palms closely. They were small, that of a child, roughly 8 years of age. I was yet again reminded of my situation, a foreigner in an unfamiliar body. As I fell deeper into my trance, I was soon interrupted by the sudden stopping of the wagon. The pain in my leg abruptly returned as I was thrown back, earning a humored grunt from Akio. The last of the three, a blond man of slender build, spoke for the first time, already hopping off the wagon.

"Let's get going, preferably before they declare us AWOL."

As the others rose to their feet, apparently used to the impatience of the blond, I tried to crawl my way to the edge of the wagon, an action that proved to be easier said than done. Nara, the last one off of the wagon save for myself, had to help me down. As she eased my feet onto the ground, the woman tore a piece of cloth from Akio's already tattered shirt, wrapping it tightly around my forehead. This action earned an annoyed look from Akio, as well as my own confusion. Nara completely disregarded the man's displeasure, instead giving me a short explanation that only brought about more questions.

"To hide those markings above your eyebrows. Don't take it off until I say."

Rubbing my forehead slightly, I gave a half-hearted nod, though I didn't know anything about the markings in question. As the group began to move, me at the center, my eyes soon fell upon a large gate, the size exaggerated by my own short height. The massive green doors were flung wide open, revealing a vast expanse of buildings. The architecture was odd, like nothing I had seen before, completely different from the modern Japan I knew. Opposite the gate, towering over the village, was a great mountain, bearing three enormous faces carved into the stone. As I stood in place, gazing at the odd place as if it were an old painting, the three around me began walking once more, guiding me into the village.