DigitalCafe

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”

((How do you respond?))

Story...

A story...

...story...

Suddenly, a wrinkled finger flicks the tip of your nose. It's enough to bring you back to reality as you stare at the woman with great intensity. She appears to start sweating, looking nervous before standing up and grabbing your hand. You pull back, almost reflexively.

"No... none of that." You murmur, the words coming from your mouth soft yet, firm. 

She pays you no mind as both of you move towards a small body of water. It reminds you of something, but you aren't quite sure what. In all honesty, you're having some trouble even remembering your own name. Her cane sinks into the mushy ground as both of you reach towards the edge of a pond. Unlike the rest of the swamp, the water is a little more clear. A lackluster blue-green hue swirls intoxicatingly with long green reeds swaying ever so slightly. You bend over.

"...Oh." You comment.

The woman lifts her cane to readjust it, "Oh indeed. Why- I haven't seen that shade of violet in one's eyes since... ever." Her voice is warm, but you're too busy peering into the water to pay attention to her tone.

Purple eyes. Have my eyes always been this way? I don't remember them being this way. This colorful.

She pulls you back from the water, but your eyes are still fixed on the reflection, "You got a name, sweetheart?

You think for a long moment, wrapping your head around her simple question. You try remembering where you came from, but all you can recall is falling. You fell. For a long time. How long did I fall for. Where did I fall- Why am I here? These questions race through your mind; eyes bouncing back and forth as you stare this old woman down fiercely. Wondering, why you even were walking here in the first place until-

"Fae."

"Pardon?" 

"Fae Fenrius. I'm sure." In that moment, everything goes silent. The loud ringing in your ears vanish and all you're left with is the sound of the swamp that surrounds you. You wish for the ringing to come back.

"Well "Fae", why don't I whip you something up mighty fierce. You look like you could use some good ol' fashion stew... and a bath." The woman's cane taps you on the leg hard as she walks away. You don't know why you're here or where you're going, but you follow her anyways.

Maybe it'll be for the best...