Oɴce A Wαrrιor | ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐˢᴹᴾ

𝐢 - 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧

chapter i , reunion

       "WILBUR—WILBUR THEY'RE ALIVE!"

       My vision was blurred, dotted with yellow, red, white, brown, black, and amongst other colors.  I flexed my hands to get a feel of where I was. Coarse dirt, my hands were speckled with bits of the soil I laid upon.

       A hand was on each of my shoulders, gingerly lifting me as another individual supported my back. I squinted my eyes.

       Nope, still a pile of mush.

       I parted my mouth in an attempt to form words, however, all that came out were a fit of hoarse coughs.

       "Quick!" a blob of brown amongst other dark hues shouted. "Get some water!"

       Panicked shuffling scattered the area, squeaks from what I presume are tables and chairs. Shouts rang through the air with new voices and huffs.

       A red patch grabbed ahold of the cup and then proceeded—

       "Don't splash it on us!" the brown patch screeched. "It's for Y/N to drink!"

"Or we can wake them up quicker!"

"They're already awake!"

       I tried to move my head around, but my peripheral vision wasn't expanding past what I'd like it to be. If only I could sit upright...

       I then noticed another figure, a new one, shadowed in dark colors away from the light, but with long, vibrant locks of pink hair streaming down their back. The person's stance seemed to be a suspicious one, arms crossed and near the door, back against the dirt wall.

       "Y/N, can you hold the cup?" My hand was lifted, fingers assisting me to wrap around the cup.

       The cool liquid soothed my dry throat. Everything felt so foreign to me, like I haven't moved in a century. It was like I died and came back to life.

       I can kind of make things out now—duplicated objects are starting to form into one. The first thing I can make out was a figure with bright blue eyes staring right at me, five inches apart while squinting and pursing his lips.

       "Uh...hi." I say.  My voice wasn't as cracked now, but I suppose it needs some time to recover.

       The blond boy, probably a teenager near adulthood, looked raggedy.  There were rips and stains in his shirt (whether it was from the current condition or food, I'll never know), though he still retained bits of a hopeful smile after sorting out the confusion in his head. "You're alive, you're okay..."

"I'm alive, yes." I lifted my back off of whatever was supporting it from behind, cracking my knuckles and fingers. I stretched my body until it was all loose and limber. The brown blob, now I recognize as an individual older than the teen, lent me a hand up.  I graciously accepted it. 

       Once I got on my two feet, I patted the pebbley dirt from my attire.  When I glanced up, all eyes are on me.

       Are they expecting me to say something?"