"Memory Loss"

Flip! Phoom!

The door suddenly flew open as a familiar youth hurried in. He quickly scanned the room before his eyes landed on Swain. The frantic look in his eyes was immediately dispelled as relief visibly washed over him. 

"Phew… Thank the heavens you're well." The youth whispered seemingly to himself.

"How is he?!" A young feminine voice sounded outside the door as it approached.

The youth turned towards the source and smiled, "He's well enough."

Swain eyed the young man from head to toe and noticed that this kid had clearly rested and refreshed himself as compared to before. He was wearing a long-sleeved linen shirt and had thick wooly trousers cuffed with muddy leather boots. On his waist, a sword-belt was fit tightly and carried a short arming sword. As there was no sheath, the sword's edge was visible, and clearly dulled. On the youth's back lay what seemed to be a buckler shield no greater than a foot in width, with a leader band nailed onto either end supposedly to grant comfort in carrying the small shield at length.

The youth stood calmly as Swain inspected him. After noticing his gaze meet his eyes again, he hesitantly whispered, "... Sire… Do you… Remember me?"

Swain, still laying down, paused for a moment as a thought suddenly struck him. 'Who am I supposed to actually be?'

He didn't consider until now that he was in the body of another person. After all, he still couldn't come to terms with the fact that he was in another world. He was still himself. He had a family, two brothers and a Mother and Father that loved him dearly. Let alone the fact that he literally transmigrated, there's also magic. He even got pegged 3 inches deep into the forehead with a flying laser rock, and had his eye cut out, but here he is, still alive! What, if not a strange and frightening dream, could this really be?

As he was thinking to himself, he noticed the young man's face slowly morphing into a grimace with a tinge of regret. For now, he could only be as honest as he could while remaining as vague as possible so as to not step on a landmine of some sort.

"Sorry. I'm, eh, having difficulty remembering anything right now." 'Especially because I have no idea what's going on or who this "Swain" guy is.'

"Hugh… As expected. His Excellency Yeremi said that you would likely experience significant, if not total, memory loss…" His face continued to grow with regret. "I should have discouraged you from manning the wall."

"There's no way you could have known that the enemy mustered such a marksman among their ranks brother. You were negligent, but you are hardly entirely at fault." 

The younger feminine voice came from beyond the door as it passed the threshold. The lady that came through was a near spitting image of the young man beside her. They were definitely twins.

"Watch your tone Bell. He may not remember who he is, but he is still our Liege." The youth reprimanded as he reached over and forcefully bowed her head, himself following suit.

"My name is Simon. Her name is Istabella. We are your loyal attendants. I myself am one among three of your squires, Lord. Should you have any questions, I shall answer them." He raised his head tentatively as though awaiting a response.

Boomtssss!

Another sudden impact sounded and caused tremors throughout the building as rubble continued to fall from the ceiling. Whatever it was, it clearly struck much closer this time.

Once the collision rang out, Simon immediately sprang into action as though remembering why he rushed here in the first place.

He arrived at Swain's bedside, threw aside the sheets, and gently but quickly raised him out of the bed.

"Ow! Agh!" The cramps in Swain's back continued to compound as he yelped in pain.

"Sorry, Lord, but we must relocate you. The enemy has established a siege engine on the north side, likely a stone ballista. They are surely aiming to breach the walls but they seem to have managed too poor an aim." Simon began summarizing the situation.

"I understand, but where are we? And who is attacking us?"

Simon's movement hesitated for a moment before he passed the threshold of the door. They came to a corridor that extended in either direction. By count, there were 13 rooms in this hallway, and only his had a sconce lit just outside. 

Turning left, Simon made his way to the T-section in the hallway that continued further down and turned right. They passed several open doors to large rooms, one clearly being an armory, another being a small study, or maybe a library. 

While carrying Swain, Simon sighed begrudgingly before responding, "Truly, you hardly remember anything. We're garrisoning Connacre Hold in the Connacre mountain range. It defends the west mountain pass between our Kingdom of Dynehart and the land of a coalition who call themselves the "High Kingdom of Kinsing."

Frantic voices could be heard more clearly as he approached further down the corridor.

"It would be more honest to say that they're simply a large group of inbred blood-lusting clans that have banded together than it is to say they're a united realm though." Simon muttered under his breath. A scowl was clearly plastered across his face, as much as he tried to hide it.

"Ah… Ouch! Eh, and they're attacking us because?" Swain asked through another cramp. As confused as he was of the situation he was in, he needed information before all else.

"It's been a twenty-two-year war. Our lord, Marquis Frederick Dynewulf, upon being granted the uncultivated lands of the west counties of our realm, decided to prospect the Connacre Mountain Range for any useful minerals. East of this pass, the prospectors discovered 2 large deposits of tin and copper, as well as a small vein of iron. After funding the establishment of a settlement, now known as Connacre, the news attracted hopefuls from all across the kingdom." 

At this point, Swain could feel Simon struggling to continue carrying him, his arms shaking visibly. He paused and proceeded to lower Swain to lean against the rough stone wall, "Forgive me. We're almost there but I need to rest a moment. If we see anyone walk by, I'll seek their assistance, but we should be safe for now."

"I understand. So, you're telling me about the establishment of a new settlement… How does this pertain to the war?"

"Well… That's just it. Connacre was established here to harvest minerals. It's especially important because copper and tin combined creates a new metal; Bronze. Bronze is widely useful. It can be used to make weapons, mirrors, tools, ceremonial equipment. Bronze is a beautiful alloy that can be utilized in a wide range of means. It is highly valued by all kingdoms and peoples. Lo' and behold however, the clans to the west claimed that we settled on their ancestral lands. After issuing several protests, they raised arms, then proceeded to raid and plunder Connacre. They were clearly just after the minerals, yet they also enslaved the settlers that had already created a life here."

Footsteps sounded down the hall as a young man of fourteen or fifteen wearing a heraldic tabard could be seen casually walking from the right side of a T-section further down the way to the left exit.

"You there! Page! Come assist me." Simon called out immediately.

As the page jumped from being called and made his way over, Swain continued to think to himself.

'At this point, I have to simply accept it. There's too much information, too many sensations, and it's been far too long for me to have not woken up yet. I am absolutely, and certainly, alive and truly here in another world. Whoever Swain is, I am him now…'

He verbalized his thoughts, "So… Why are you and I here?"

Simon's face shifted into a strange look, his mouth opening and closing several times as though trying to find the right thing to say. 

"Milord… Because you're the Castellan of Connacre."