[Winter Contest Entry 2015] To Become a Memory

Isaac saw the glow of the campfire long before the camp itself, a beacon in a world swallowed by night. Anna quickened her pace. At times, it had been difficult to keep with her. Her footing was sure, even in the dark. Isaac doubted it was her first time striking out alone so late.

Isaac prepared himself for whatever waited ahead. It can't be any worse than what happened back there, can it?

He held his breath. And released it.

A wagon sat parked to the side of the road with a pair of horses dozing off in front of it. Beside the wagon were an old man on a trunk, and the fire. Wood crackling was the only sound. The old man shifted at their approach. Isaac stopped and exchanged looks with him. There was no mistaking what was going on. The old man was sizing him up. Who looked away first could be a major factor in--

"What are you waiting for?" Anna shoved him forward. "Yo, Eadweard! I'm back," she said to the old man. She sat down opposite him around the fire.

"I see that," Eadweard said.

Why you little . . . Isaac let it go and sat beside Anna, crossing his legs. Heat radiated from the flames, chasing the chill out of his bones.

"This is Isaac," Anna said.

"Evening, sir," Isaac said.

"Actually, it's morning," Eadweard said.

"Staying up late again?" Anna asked.

Eadweard smiled. "Men my age don't need much sleep. Ain't much of a reason to go to bed when you've seen all tomorrow has to offer." He kept his eyes on Isaac.

No wonder, dressed the way I am.

Isaac cleared his throat.

Anna broke her gaze from the pit of the fire. "Oh! Isaac's in a bit of a bind. Can he travel with us for a while?"

Eadweard scratched at his beard. "It depends. What's your story, young man?"

Anna's lips parted but Isaac cut her off. He couldn't bring himself to lie, not if it meant taking advantage of someone.

* * *

The cold was the first thing his mind registered. The second was a weariness that threatened to overwhelm him. He worked his heavy eyelids open one fraction of a millimeter at a time until sight in earnest had returned to his world.

A canopy of leaves greeted him and beyond that, stars in a sky the deep purple of midnight. The faint tune of humming accompanied his awakening. He could have lain that way for the rest of time.

It was numbness in his extremities that caused him to lurch and upset the balance that had kept him afloat. He splashed about grasping for something, anything.

Panic gripped him. His voice gathered in his throat, ready to burst out in a scream, but it didn’t get the chance.

"Huh?"

His feet were planted on ground, albeit it was muddy and treacherous. He looked around and realized he was standing on the bank of wetlands. Fields broken up by trees spread out before him. Behind him wafted the aroma of earth and rot.

Where am I? He closed his eyes shut in concentration and tried to think back . . . back to what? Try as he might, he couldn't remember anything. He opened eyes. Several feet away on dry ground stood a girl about his age wearing a travel cloak.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" he asked. The girl’s expression was blank. He looked down at his water-trodden clothes to find scratched chainmail splattered with mud. He waved his arms before him. "I don’t mean any harm! I just . . ."

"You startled them," the girl said. She must have noticed how confused he was and went on. "The frogs. I was singing to them."

The humming. "Oh, that was you then."

She nodded and gestured for him to follow. "They’re still around if you want to see them. They like meeting new people. I think."

She thinks? Not sure what else to do, he clambered out of the water after her. What harm could possibly come from looking at a couple of frogs? The girl led him to a precipice that overlooked the wetlands by several feet. She resumed humming. It wasn't a tune he recognized.

"I don’t see any . . ." A set of glowing yellow eyes the size of his fists broke the surface of the murky water. The body came next. When the entire frog was exposed, it was at a level with the precipice. Two more joined it.

His voice was a harsh whisper. “You didn’t say they were Kronoan Bull Frogs!” He’d never seen them in person before, but he’d heard the tales in alehouses. They were said to swallow a man whole as readily as any insect.

The girl tilted her head. "Say what now?"

He turned and left. I’m out of here before I die.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

He looked back at her; his heart jumped into his throat. One of the frogs had climbed onto the ledge and stood next to her. He pointed at it, mouth agape. She placed a hand on top of its head and massaged it. The frog slowly blinked.

"Who are you?" he managed.

"Anastasia, but everyone calls me Anna. What’s your name?"

"It’s--" His mind drew a blank. "I don't know."

He told Anna of his plight, of how he'd woken up on his back in the swamp and couldn't remember anything before then, not even his name. The frog didn't budge an inch. It remained at Anna's side like a faithful guard dog.

"I guess you were involved in the fighting," Anna said, taking in his armor.

"Fighting?"

"A couple miles north of here. It's got the people I'm traveling with a little rattled." He doubted it was only a little. Soldiers had the right to stop non-combatants and seize their property if they deemed it necessary.

"Aren't you worried?" he asked.

"Yeah, but someone has to stay positive and the others aren't right now." Anna looked down at her feet before snapping back up. "How about Isaac? For a name, that is. I knew an Isaac once and you remind me of him."

The frog croaked, a bass rumble he felt through his boots.

Anna laughed. "I guess he likes it too. Isaac it is then."

Don't I get a say in this? It wasn't a bad name, but that didn't change the fact that his own name had been chosen for him by a girl he'd just met and a giant frog.

"Do you have anywhere to go?"

If he was a soldier, that meant he'd have a chance of figuring out who he was if he went back to the army, but there were no guarantees. Even if it did work out, they'd just send him back to the battlefield, wouldn't they?

Isaac shook his head.

"Then you can stay with us."

* * *

Eadweard considered Isaac's tale. "Is that true?" he asked Anna.

She nodded vigorously. A wolf howled in the distance.

"Well, I'm not the one in charge here so it's not really for me to say who can come with us and who can't. Thanks for humoring me though."

How about I humor you with a blade in your eye? Isaac imagined what it'd be like to listen to the old man scream his throat raw. Perhaps Isaac would shove his head into the fire after--

Isaac froze. His hands shook. What the hell was that just now?

"There's stew left over if you're hungry," Eadweard said. "I suppose feeding you's the least I can do."

Anna's stomach grumbled beside him. She rubbed the back of her head. "Now that you mention food . . ."

Eadweard went inside the wagon and retrieved bowls, spoons and a pot which he placed over the fire. Isaac and Anna served themselves when the stew was steaming. It was too watery for Isaac's tastes, but he was hungrier than he realized. He licked the spoon clean and went back for seconds.

As far back as Anna remembered, she'd been traveling to one town or another with one group or another. She met Leah, a merchant and the real person in charge, only three months ago.

"Isn't it lonely always being on the move?" Isaac asked.

"Don't be ridiculous. I get to meet so many people."

"Yeah, but you don't ever get to form any real bonds with them do you?"

Anna's eyes grew distant. "No. I guess not."

"I'm sorry if I--"

"Not at all! So what about you? What've you been . . . oh, that's right. Sorry."

Eadweard laughed.

"What is it?" Isaac asked.

"Nothing, it's just that you two seem so alike."

"Am not," they said at the same time. They all laughed after that. Until Isaac realized some of the mud on his chainmail was actually dried blood. He grew quiet.

"What's wrong?" Anna asked.

"It's nothing."

None of them turned in for the night. By the time Isaac stretched his arms back in a yawn, the sun was on the rise. The first light could be seen from beyond a gentle hill the road crested.

Someone stirred inside the wagon. Minutes later, a man with several days worth of stubble and a scar that cut through an eye climbed outside. He put a hand on a sword at his side.

"Morning, Jacob," Eadweard said.

"Good morning," Anna said.

Jacob studied Isaac. Isaac searched the campsite for anything he could use as a weapon. He stopped when he realized what he was doing.

"Who's this?" Jacob asked.

Anna introduced him. Then to Isaac she said, "He's Leah's guard."

"What do you and Eadweard do then?" Isaac asked.

"We are her most valuable assistants whom without which she would--"

"We handle menial labor," Eadweard said.

"You don't have to put it like that!"

Jacob placed his hand on his hip. "Still don't know a thing about you."

"I personally vouch for his moral character," Eadward said.

"No offense old man, but you're not the best judge of--"

A crash came from within the wagon. A woman stumbled out whom Isaac presumed to be Leah. She looked none too happy. "What part of 'sleep' don't you people understand?"

No one met her gaze.

So that's how it is around here.

"Who're you?" Leah demanded. Isaac flinched. Together, he and Anna explained his situation.

"So can he stay?" Anna asked. "Please?"

Her sincerity surprised Isaac. He had thought she was just being nice. As Isaac looked at everyone around the remnants of the fire, he realized there was no one else her age.

Leah breathed out. "Fine." She spun on her heels and headed back inside. "We strike out in one hour!" Sweat formed on Isaac's forehead.

"That's Leah for ya," Eadweard whispered. "Bluster aside, her heart's in the right place."

Isaac stood up, heart pounding. "I'm sorry, but I can't come with you."

"What? Why not?" Anna asked. Isaac recalled what happened earlier with Eadweard. They hadn't just been dark thoughts. There'd been a desire to see the man suffer, but he couldn't tell them that.

"I can't say, but it's important. I . . . remembered something." Isaac took quick steps back the way they'd come.

Anna caught up to him. "Can you at least tell me what it is?"

"I'm not the kind of person you want to have around. I don't know for certain, but I think I've done terrible things."

"The Isaac I know--"

"But I'm not Isaac! You don't know the first thing about me."

"Regardless of what you did in the past," Anna continued, "the person standing before me now is kind and caring. If you were truly selfish, you wouldn't be so conflicted."

Isaac wanted to believe her. But what if she was wrong? "I'm scared."

"There's nothing wrong with that. There's a war going on around us in case you haven't notice. We're all scared."

* * *

An hour later, Isaac sat on the back of the wagon, riding off into the dawn.

They were for the most parts ok, but there seems to be some really apparent errors that you somehow overlooked or did it on your own. Like these:

• "He opened eyes."
  
  Shouldn't it be "He opened his eyes."? I remember vaguely that I have seen your kind of phrasing in old-style writings and stories, but you don't seem to be implementing that kind of style here, so it came out as jarring to read for me, if it was your intention.

• "He held his breath. And released it."
  
  Came out as awkward to read for me. Was the part "And released it." necessary?

• Eadweard scratched at his beard. "It depends. What's your story, young man?"
  
  Personal preference, but I thought if he said "lad", it would fit the time and his character more.

• "Jacob studied Isaac. Isaac searched the campsite for anything he could use as a weapon. He stopped when he realized what he was doing."
  
  Who stopped who doing what now? There was two men mentioned in this line, this is just confusing.

• Who looked away first could be a major factor in--
  
  This line was of the narrator, who was in third-person perspective. So there was no reason that the narrator would be disrupted of their thoughts when Anna shove Isaac forward while he was staring at the other guy. If you want it to be disrupted though, you should have written it in italics, indicating that is Isaac's thoughts, like you have done in other instances.

• He waved his arms before him.
  
  You meant 'before her'?

I may not as confused as Cinia was when he thought it was set in modern times, but it was enough for me to think it was in a cowboy-ish era. Of course, Mid-West America at the times didn't have many lush, dark wetlands (at least they aren't the parts that were of much attention in pop culture), but this was a fantasy world, so anything can happen. The point is, the setting wasn't clear from the start, if it was your intention.

In all honesty, I thought all the characters were bland or way too colorful to the point of confusion.

Isaac: This guy lost his memories, so it can be justified a bit when he didn't appear to have much of characteristics. However, with what established, it seems he acted out of his characters, or common sense, several times during the story, most prominently, confused and get his priorities wrong ("Where am I?" and "Excuse me, but who are you?"). Also, like Raven have said, you didn't make him out to be a partially amnesiac guy, and then quote knowledge from his memories. Raven gave you a example, I have some more:

• couldn't remember anything before then, not even his name

• He doubted it was only a little. Soldiers had the right to stop non-combatants and seize their property if they deemed it necessary.

Anna: This character was the one who drove the story. She is the one I said to be too colorful. She's quaint (singing to frogs), cheerful (obviously), distant (You startled them," the girl said. She must have noticed how confused he was and went on. "The frogs. I was singing to them."), caring (obviously), active (striking out at night), rash (obviously), calculative (We are her most valuable assistants whom without which she would--"), simple-minded (obviously). You could say I'm nitpicking, but I'm somehow so unconvinced by this character that I can't see where she was coming from when she do her things.

The others: Were of nothing particularly worth noting. Being merciless is one of my writing principles, if there is something that doesn't add value to the story, cut it out.

You also skim out on the characters' appearances in this story. Usually, one's appearance reveal a lot about themselves. With the lack of description about Anna's outward looks, it adds to the confusion I have about her. You said she was about Isaac's age, but what was his age? I admit that I imagine him to be quite young when I read it, because for heaven's sake, the main character in this kind of story should always be relatively young, but in actuality, there was no mention of his age anywhere. He could as well be 40-ish, and I can't imagine a 40-ish woman jumping around like I imagine Anna would surely do.

There was nothing for me to grasp on, there was no actual purpose to this story. You can say is the (cliché) adventure of the guy trying to find out about his past and stuffs, but I knew from the start that this is going to be a relatively short story, when that kind of adventure can't be sized down to such quantity, so what's the point? And the whole point of this particular story, not the whole adventure, as you said right above, it's that Anna want Isaac to stay, but why is that so important? I can't care about that until I know about this guy and he suffers from amnesia. In my opinion, you should have introduce the situation of the guy first, then proceed from that. In another word, write this story in chronological order, and even then it won't solve the question. In fact, this boils down to a whole other problem. As said by Raven, you seems to have this tendency of making short stories part of another larger one, and don't resolve the core problem by the end of that short story. That's what make you confuse about the problem you want to tackle in this. This story can be totally fine for a novel prelude, but not as a standalone contest entry.

Let's make a example of this. Do you know the manga/anime series One Piece? It's regarded the best shounen series ever, in many fields including subscribers and sale and all those jazz, some even surpass that of Dragon Balls. It's a goddamn adventure so good that with over 800 chapters in the manga, the main characters still only have completed roughly half of their adventure! However, in spite of this seemingly incredible story that follows, the first chapter of One Piece is a great 50-pages story in its own right. If you haven't read One Piece, I urge you to drop your job and do so right now, but if you have, you know how great it was. In fact, all manga business model is like that, they publish a special edition of your story's first chapter (usually a manga's chapter is roughly 20 pages), and if the mass readers don't like that, then your story goes bye-bye, who cares if you have other great ideas. This is to say, this short story of yours won't sell to me. This seems so strange, considering your last year's winter entry was similar to this. However, Strike! told me a story that grasped me and can still stand on its own feet, unlike this one, where it doesn't have much backing.

You said that this was written with Comedy and Family theme in mind, but just like Cinia, I found little of both. You said you started this as a comedy but later rethink it, so the first parts still have some traces of comedy left. I personally did not think so. You can argue the part about the Frogs was funny, if is was made to be funny, and I can certainly imagine it so being a anime/cartoon. However, I didn't find it funny while I was reading it. You clearly did not establish this as a comedy story from the start, so that part came out to me as fairly serious, and that guy was really scared to hell. In fact, the whole story could be made a anime episode, and I can imagine watching it as a comedy anime. But animation and literature is fundamentally different because animation have visuals to portray their tone and theme, while you have to use your limited amounts of words to do so, and you chose not to do it. That's why this story can be light-hearted comedy anime, but not a light-hearted comedy writing. See, I always think the elementals have to be established right from the beginnings of things, in writings, they are tone, genre and purposes. Even if some parts were funny, comedy relieves can't be the same as a pure comedy story. For the family theme, I think you can say these unlikely travelers is a family by the end of thing, but that is a matter of perspective.

I don't understand it. Care to explain?