10 Fall 522 - 4th
With a start Moritz jerked upright, his hands rushing to his neck as he felt a wait crash onto his stomach. Panting heavily he looked around, confused as to where he was. In a detached way he remembered the pain, but only as a memory. He knew it hurt, but in the same way he remembered a pair of boots were brown...
Axle, seeing Moritz quite disturbed, lifted off his weight and began to pat the Kelvic on his head, checking to see if "You okay?" with concern. Moritz for his part nodded, trying to get his breathing back in order, an odd thing to have to do seeing as he had just been sleeping.
"I'm fine Axle. Just... Memories... Or maybe dreams, would be more accurate."
What should he call his past turns of the days memories, Moritz considered. Where they memories? As far as he could tell they had never happened. There was no sign of it, no markings, and no one else but Moritz remembered... And how many times was it now? Honestly, Moritz realized, he was having trouble keeping track. First he had gone hunting, and then blanked out on the destroyed and empty caravan.... He had gone hunting again, and they had bagged a dear. Making it back earlier in the day they had arrived with a few stragglers. He had managed to kill one, before another plus an archer took him out, lopping off his head. That had been relatively painless as a way to go, though the arrow had hurt.
Lastly and most recently, which was why he had woken grabbing at his throat which was perfectly fine, he had died by having his throat slit. Though, thinking on it while smiling and patting Axle in return to assure him he was fine, he realized that was not the whole thing. First he had been shot with multiple arrows, the one in his back being particularly bad. Then he had tried to save himself and lost a hand... Only to then have his neck cut open... Though at that point he was kind of numb, and soon after fell over and just sort of... Faded. He could remember all of those things, knew vaguely how they felt and how painful they were, but did not really feel attached to that. After all it was all in the past, a past that had never happened.
Visions, Moritz finally mentally settled on. They were truths, and had happened, but also had not, which if anything made them visions. Visions, he figured, were not inherently true or false, but just possibilities... Ones he had actively worked to change. But thinking back on what he knew, he would have to change things more. But for that, he would need a plan. Something he could do. He had some details, but he knew to do things properly he would need at least one more try before he could figure things out. Namely, he needed to figure out where those bandits were coming from.
First, he would confirm some details, details he could not know. Which he could then use on the next time he went through the day. Then he would need to find a way to track those invaders, if possible back to wherever they were camping in preparation for their attack. They would not attack till much later in the day, when the caravan slowly moved up, which meant it should be possible to beat them to it if a smaller group moving quickly headed there... But that would also mean giving up today to failure, and assuming he would try again on the next.
With a sigh Moritz resigned himself to another bad day, in hopes of making the next try a better one.
WC: 629