Way of the Moon Bear

Chapter 1: Backwards-2

“Oh, I'm lost. Well, not just that… I-I can't remember anything. I need help-”.

“You can't remember anything?” one of them interrupted.

“I woke up in the middle of the woods and there was a big- I mean, I've just lost my memory”.

“You just lost your memory, aye? Sounds like some sort of sorcery to me”.

“I don't even know what that means”.

“I see. So, where are your parents then?”

“My parents? I don't know if I even have any,” Wick murmured, forgetting all about his potential Mother and Father that could have been out somewhere, looking for him. “Ah, well have you travelled far to get here then?” they asked.

“A few hours maybe”.

“I bet you went out into the woods to play and hit your head or something. Don't worry, I reckon your parents live right here in Whonestead. There's no other towns around here so they have to be here. Go on in, take a look around, I'm sure they'll spot you in no time,” they smiled whilst moving out the way of the entrance. Wick quickly ran into the town square but he wasn't recognising any of it. There were small houses scattered around with thin glass panes for windows. The paths were simply made of dirt, and the rest of the ground was occupied by grass. He walked over to a well and leant against it as he looked around. He noticed a large number of people dressed in simple clothing made of cotton. Whonestead was seeming like a rather poor area to him, as his own clothes didn't seem to match everyone else's. He looked at himself in the drab reflection of a tavern window and saw how black and curly his hair was as it dangled down over his ears. His white, long-sleeved shirt was connected to a brown, sleeveless jacket by brass studs, with a high-waisted belt helping hold it all together. There wasn't much to his trousers – just simple, grey leggings wrapped around his lower half, and his boots strapped up all the way to the top of his shins. His own outfit wasn't necessarily outstanding, but it was definitely different to the plain blouses and tunics that everyone else was wearing, making him feel as though he wasn't actually from Whonestead. The most striking accessory on his body however was the necklace he hadn't had chance to notice until then. With simple string keeping it attached, a little wooden bear totem dangled from it, reinforcing there was some sort of connection between himself and the actual bear. The carvings were simplistic but beautiful enough for Wick to gaze at it for a moment, but he soon broke out of the trance. Searching for answers was more important, so he asked a group of civilians ahead with little hope or faith. “Hello? Can anyone help me?” he said with a sweet and innocent voice. They were hard at work fixing a badly broken building. The remnants of what was once a roof were covered in large scratch marks, and the walls were burnt and windows smashed. “What is it you want? We haven't got time,” a grumpy woman sighed.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Dragons. Either a couple of Flockflys or something a bit bigger like a Yimlam,” an exhausted man groaned.

“There's dragons around here?”

“Aye, but only the small ones,” he replied. Wick looked at the destructive capabilities of the apparently small dragons and dreaded to think what a larger one could have done. He'd never seen one in person, but seeing the damage one had left behind made him somewhat less scared of the bear, knowing that there were much deadlier things in the world to worry about. “So what was it you wanted? We're busy,” the woman said.

“This will sound odd but… do I look like I'm from around here?” Wick asked.

“Do you look like you're from around here? What sort of question is that? I know for a start you're not from Whonestead. I would have seen you around before… it's a small community. What's all this about?”

“I'm just trying to find out where I belong”.

“Well that's a strange thing to say”. Wick zoned out from her yammering and looked over to the village entrance. The two guardsmen had ran away screaming for some reason. Before long, more people started to shout and wail as they ran to their homes or towards any tools they could use as weapons. To his regret, he watched on as the intruding bear lumbered into the village without a care in the world. It was looking for the boy but in the process, struck fear into the whole of Whonestead. People either ran out of its way or towards it to attack. “I told you to wait!” Wick complained as it reached him. Pitchforks and scythes made their way to the two of them. “Look out, boy! It's a bear!” one villager yelled. Wick couldn't be bothered to explain everything to them. Even if he wanted to, they were all too loud and riled up to listen. Instead, he ran back to the unguarded entrance, knowing that the bear would follow him. Their only chance of escape was to head back into the forest, but the angry mob were hot on their trail, throwing stones and farming tools at them, uncaring of the fact that they could have hit Wick. They hurried frantically into the woods, listening to the decrease in screaming from behind. Neither of them were willing to stick around to see if they were being hunted through the forest, so made sure to keep running until they were at least half a mile away from Whonestead. Wick stopped to catch his breath, prompting the bear to do the same. “Well done, I was asking them for help, stupid bear!” he panted between gasps. His confused associate hung its head in shame and avoided eye contact. “That's right. You should feel guilty”. He wiped the sweat from his head and walked on at a steady pace. “Now where do I go?” he mumbled to himself. Right after he finished speaking, the bear attempted to answer by tugging on his sleeve again. “Stop doing that. I'm not going anywhere with you”. Just then, it began to rain heavily out of nowhere. Not even the cover of trees could prevent them from getting wet. The droplets were fast and aggressive, breaking though the branches and soaking them both in the matter of minutes. All they could do was press on, hoping that it would eventually stop, but it was shaping up to be an overnight ordeal.

There was no shelter in sight and they had been walking for an hour straight with their soggy hair covering the majority of their view. The ground had become rather sloppy and thick with oozing mud, covering Wick's boots up to the ankles. “It's not stopping,” he moaned, provoking the bear to pull at his clothes again. “Oh, fine!” he shouted, giving in to the animal's wishes again. It wasted no time and started to run ahead without him unexpectedly. After getting to a certain distance, it turned around and grunted at him, as a way of telling him to hurry. “Okay, okay. I'm coming”. Greenwick ran and followed from behind for yet another tiring hour, but he was glad that he had done, for the bear had found them a small cave to take refuge in, which was perfect as the sun was starting to take its leave. They both raced to be the first one inside, excited to be free from the infuriating downpour. Wick dropped to the floor, uncaring for how hard the ground was. He was happy he able to relax after a long and arduous day. The bear shook his fur, sending his smelly, wet aroma everywhere. “Disgusting,” he said whilst laying in the line of fire, getting even more drenched from the bear's rigorous shaking. It may have been tense being in one another's company, but they put everything aside for the time being to enjoy the shelter, though there was still a few things Wick couldn't help but think about. He reflected on the spontaneous day, replaying it all piece by piece in his head whilst the wall of rain outside created an ominous yet soothing background noise. So much had happened that he couldn't bring his feelings to words. There wasn't a lot he could do with the absence of memory. Over and over, he asked himself the same questions of identity and belonging, not knowing if people were looking for him, or if he was completely alone. He didn't know how he could have lost his memory, but he hoped it was accidental and there wasn't something bigger at work that did it to him purposely. The only voice he recalled in his head was that of a male, calling his name. He assumed it could have been his Father. Even so, it only made him wonder about the whereabouts of his Mother, so for the time being, he considered only having a Father tied to the situation. Then there was the matter of the friendly bear. The only explanation he had is that they may have known each other well before his mind was erased, which would have explained the necklace. Even if that was the case, he still didn't feel entirely safe around it, even after it lead him to a safe cave. There were too many mysteries at once for his young head to ache about, so he finally emptied his brain the best he could for the time being. The bear laid down next to him. It could have gotten closer but it knew that Wick wasn't feeling comfortable enough yet. The two of them rested in the darkening shelter as night dimmed into establishment, taking over the daylight and consuming it whole. The beginning of Greenwick's journey was so abrupt, he didn't realise the importance of it, or the fact that he was even travelling towards anything in particular. The loss of all recollection was an evident hurdle, but it would turn out to be an interesting advantage in the future. All he could do was wait and continue to go about his days. Knowledge of the world and the roads he would have to take were waiting patiently to be discovered. All he had to do what let go and allow fate to carry him in the right direction – fate being in the form of a four-legged woodland giant.