2 First Encounter

The boy eventually came to, awakening to find himself lying down. The air was cold, and a slight breeze blew through the rocks. His head was currently on something warm and soft, something he had never experienced throughout his two years of sleeping through the cold desert nights. Upon opening his eyes, he found another pair staring back at him. Those eyes belonged to a woman in her thirties with black hair and brown irises that glowed amber in the setting sun.

He did not flinch this time as his memories of what had happened filled his mind. Instead, choosing to stare back at the person, inspecting them with curiosity.

Before anything could be said, the woman offered up a water pouch. After grasping it, the boy sat up, taking his head off her comfortable thighs as he fumbled with the lid. Soon, he promptly began to chug down as much water as he could manage.

While he could survive without water, the pain of thirst was not one bit dampened. The saliva that should have been coating his mouth and throat was nowhere to be found. In fact, it was already a miracle that his tongue was not reduced to a shriveled piece of jerky.

This could only be thanks to the blessing or curse that was his regeneration. All the cracks in his mouth would heal before becoming noticeable. It went without saying that this was an extremely torturous process.

After a few large gulps, the woman snatched back the water pouch without warning. "I'm sorry, but you can't drink it all, or we won't make it back to the city. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow, so just get some rest."

Thinking that the boy had been abandoned, the woman switched her earlier stern expression to one filled with kindness. "What's your name by the way? Mine's Sophie."

Upon hearing the word name, his expression turned ugly. Saying that his missing memories were a sore spot was an understatement, and he did not like being reminded of what he didn't have. Not to mention a slogan of a certain chocolate bar, 'You're not you when you're hungry!' Even the nicest of people had short tempers when starved.

However, before responding, the woman grabbed something hanging around his neck, "Terran, huh?"

The boy looked down to see a rusty necklace that had appeared out of nowhere. Seeing the necklace for the first time, he was just as curious as Sophie about how it got around his neck. The old chain had a small plate with the name Terran engraved.

"Have I been in this wasteland for so long that I forgot it was there? No, I don't have dementia. Do I? Don't think so."

Someone more accustomed might find it demeaning, basically wearing a dog collar, or maybe stunned in confusion about a necklace appearing out of thin air. But, instead, Terran only felt happy. Weirdly, it felt as if someone had claimed him. Not in ownership, but in love. Like a child being adopted by caring foster parents. A feeling he had never had the pleasure of experiencing before. A feeling that he did not quite understand.

Suddenly Terran slapped his own face with such force that Sophie jumped back in surprise. "A city, an actual city!"

The rust that had long covered the gears in Terran's mind began to flake off as his mind started to churn faster than it had in years.

What was a city? A city meant people. People could not survive in the hellish wasteland. With this logic, if he went to the city, he would be leaving the wasteland.

"Miss Sophie, earlier, did you say you were going to a city!" As Terran had rarely spoken aloud, his voice cracked worse than a 12-year-old using a mic in a voice chat. But thankfully, his question was at least coherent.

Sophie, on the other hand, was a bit startled. The skeleton of a boy had gone from curious, angry, depressed, to now excited. All of which, in a matter of seconds. Not to mention, where did the Miss come from? What on earth was going through his mind? Was he angry that she had caused him to trip and fall? In the end, she stuttered to respond. "Ye-- Yes, where else would we be going?" She then paused and, in a quieter voice, mumbled, "It's not like there's anywhere else."

"How far away is the city? How many people live in the city? Are there trees? Are there. . ."

Terran's questions droned on, and eventually, Sophie had to cut him off.

"Slow down. Slow down. How about this, you tell me one thing about yourself, and I'll answer one of your questions."

This simple offer seemed to throw a wrench into the young boy's mouth as he immediately stopped spewing out questions. His emerald eyes looked distant as his mind stalled out.

"Myself?"

Sophie simply nodded in confirmation.

"I don't remember. . ."

For a second, Sophie thought her attempt at gleaning into the kid's history was just being dodged. However, soon, she noticed an immeasurable sadness hidden behind the bright green eyes that stared past her.

The boy supposedly named Terran sat only a few feet away from her. She had just finished her rigorous questioning, and yet, everything about him remained a complete enigma. The only thing she managed to learn was that he genuinely didn't remember, suffering from a severe case of amnesia.

One thing that truly brought her confusion was Terran's clothing. Although it was uncommon, finding someone wearing fur in the city was not impossible. However, Terran's attire was odd. On the one hand, furs were luxury goods sold to the wealthy to make high-end clothing. Meanwhile, it was clear that Terran was not rich or would not have been left in the wasteland. To add to the oddity of his clothing, the furs were not correctly cured, nor were they professionally tailored. Instead, they were shabbily tied together. Anyone who owned the furs in the city would have long sold them instead of wearing them improperly.

Furs were actually the reason Sophie was out in the wasteland. Working as a hunter and trapper, she sold the fur and meat to the city's people for a high price. This was precisely the reason she was so confused by Terran's apparel.

While the idea that Terran had caught and skinned the animals himself passed her mind, it was improbable. Her survival skills were top-notch, and she only went on short trips away from the city, always bringing lots of resources with her. Additionally, she held a special skill that made her job possible, and it was not something others could replicate.

"I think that's enough questions for tonight. Let's get some sleep."

Terran wanted to object, he had barely learned anything, but in the end, he decided not to. Maybe he could survive without rest, but that didn't mean the same applied to everyone he met.

It was clear Sophie had a kind heart and good intentions. Most people would have ignored him if they saw him in the wasteland. After all, if his parents abandoned them, why would a stranger do any different. But Sophie had spared him food and water. Two things that her life depended on.

Despite his directional hunger threatening him to get off his ass and keep walking, Terran simply laid down with a silly smile plastered across his face. Hope and excitement were bouncing around every fiber of his body. Perhaps it was because he had forgotten what such emotions felt like, but it was safe to say he was now high on the feelings they brought. He had lived with pain for so long that such simple feelings were enough of a drug for him to temporarily ignore the agony.

For the longest time, Terran had believed death would be his only escape, but what if there was another way?

"Could it really be coming to an end? Will my personal hell finally be over? I suppose only time will tell."