The Voice Inside My Head

It was a simple command, one I would follow if I were stupid.

But why would I run? The man had his sword pointed at me, clearly trained, but he seemed naïve.

I couldn't tell from his expression if he had ever killed anyone before. I've seen that look, the look of someone ready to end a life.

"You don't know? Absurd."

I shrugged. "I really don't know. My memories are a bit hazy."

He eyed me with suspicion. "What are you doing with that sword?"

"Protection. I'm an amnesiac, not an idiot."

He lowered his sword slightly. "I suppose that makes sense. Do you at least know where you are?"

I shook my head. "Sir, I'm not even sure what my name is."

My name is Destra, but he didn't need to know that.

"You're in the central plains, in the middle of a warzone between the two most powerful kingdoms in the world."

He sheathed his sword. "I'm a knight, ordered to check for any survivors."

I smiled. "I think I count as one."

He looked me up and down. My armor was already off, and I was wearing a wrinkled black shirt and tight white pants.

I had also left behind any signs of identification, knowing they could give me away to either side.

In short, he had no way of knowing if I belonged to his side, or the enemy's.

[Leave this place. Go north.]

The voice again. It was so stupid, but I knew what I had to do.

"Listen, if you would be so kind as to guide me to someplace safe, maybe I could give you more information."

He sighed. "I have things to do, but if you head due north, there's a small neutral settlement."

I nodded. "Thank you very much, sir."

I stood up, wiping my mouth. Bending over to grip the sword, he spoke again.

"One more question."

I stood up and smiled. "Yes?"

"What do you think of life?"

I was stunned for a moment. "I think it's a beautiful thing, something that should be nurtured and kept safe."

The stranger stared at me like I had just cursed his entire family. "I should have known."

Without warning, he drew his blade. Thinking fast, I rolled to the side and kicked him into the river.

Then I ran.

What the hell? I thought I gave a normal response, why is this man trying to kill me?

I looked back to see him pulling himself up. "Get back here, Valadorian scum!"

Was it my skin? My words? Maybe my speech pattern? Something made him think I was from a place called Valador.

I looked down at my sword as I ran. I could try to best him in swordplay, but I had no experience. He was clearly no rookie.

[Fight back. Kill and take.]

That damn voice again. 'What is it?'

[I am the voice inside your head.]

'The voice inside my head?'

'[Yes.]'

'Wait, you can hear my thoughts?'

[Yes.]

'Uh, okay. Why do you think I can beat him?'

The voice was silent for a moment, then its tone shifted.

[You are a decent swordsman. I will guide you.]

A decent swordsman? I don't even know how to use this thing.

But this voice, it only reacts to questions directed at it, meaning I could choose when to speak.

Even more unsettling, it claimed to be the "me from before" whatever that meant.

Does everyone have this voice? And can I trust it? It's telling me to do some pretty crazy stuff.

'What's an Oath?'

I needed to test its knowledge, see what it knew, what it could tell me.

[An Oath is the set of laws you place upon yourself in exchange for power.]

What are you?

[The voice inside your head. The you from before, only without emotions.]

'The me from before? So, the dead me?'

Damn. I wanted to ask more questions, but this guy was catching up.

'Are you confident I can defeat him?'

The voice didn't answer quickly. It took a second. But when it did, I got a clear response.

[You are a worse fighter, and you do not have an Oath. You are only smarter.]

That was all I needed.

I spun around, stopping just at a clearing, back where the dead bodies were. The dead trees loomed around us, like specters in the night.

"Bastard, you finally decide not to run."

I pointed my sword at him. "Well, if you want me so badly, come get me."

He charged. His sword swung up low, aiming to catch me off guard.

I dodged to the left just in time, but I wasn't fast enough to land a solid strike.

I swung back, but my balance was off, and I missed just barely, grazing his ear.

He cursed and jumped back, holding his ear.

The sharpness in his gaze was now tinged with irritation. He leveled his sword and took a stance, ready to strike again. The air around him began to hum faintly.

He lunged forward, the blade flashing toward me.

I ducked under it, feeling the wind whip past me as it cut the air. But I wasn't quick enough to escape his follow-up.

The sword's edge grazed my shoulder, tearing through the fabric of my shirt, but I ignored the sting.

He swung again, and this time, I blocked with my sword. The clash sent a shock through my arms.

I tried to clear my head, but the knight was relentless. I stepped back, barely avoiding another strike.

My sword had started to feel heavier, the weight of the fight settling into my muscles.

Then, a plan sparked in my mind.

I glanced at the ground. It was a small thing, but it might be my only chance. I reached down and grabbed a handful of dirt, quickly throwing it at him.

He flinched, his eyes going wide as the dirt hit him full force. He screamed, stumbling back, rubbing his eyes.

I didn't waste a moment. From the tip of his sword, a surge of energy burst out, a controlled gust of wind that carried fire.

It was a spell. The gust crashed into my sword, and in an instant, the blade shattered completely, pieces flying in all directions.

 He was on the ground, still rubbing his eyes, desperate to clear the dirt out.

I threw my sword aside and charged. I kicked him to the ground, my boot connecting with his chest, knocking the breath out of him.

He spat at me, but I saw it coming and dodged. My fist collided with his jaw, sending him reeling.

He struggled beneath me, his hand reaching for his sword.

I pressed my foot onto the wrist that held it, keeping it pinned to the ground. I kept pounding into his head with my free hand.

His body jerked as he tried to push me off, but I positioned myself firmly, pinning both of his arms to the dirt.

My strikes kept coming, relentless, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally went limp, unconscious.

I pulled his sword from the ground, the weight of it unfamiliar in my hands. Holding it to his throat, I let out a small breath, preparing for what I had to do.

I slit his throat in one smooth motion, ending his life before he could ever get up again.

I collapsed beside him, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My eyes drifted up to the night sky, the stars scattered like distant memories.

[Killing someone who possesses an Oath allows you to take their power.]

I blinked, the words ringing in my head.

I looked down at his body, the knight lying motionless, blood pooling beneath him.

A small green orb hovered over his lifeless form.

[Take it and consume it.]

I reached out, my fingers brushing the orb.

A strange energy surged through me, like a current of power I hadn't expected.

It felt foreign, yet familiar, something deep inside me responded.

The voice spoke again.

[Press it against your chest.]

I sighed and did as it instructed, placing my palm over my chest. The orb vanished as soon as I made contact.

I felt a wave of warmth wash over me, as if I had just had ten nights of uninterrupted sleep.

'So what was that?'

[An Oath Core. Every being with an Oath has one. Cores grant different abilities depending on the person.]

'What did his give me?'

[A night's rest.]

'What should I do now?'

[Go north. There's something there.]

From its tone, I suppose asking exactly what was there would be useless.

But at least I knew, for now, that this voice was reliable.

Because the voice wouldn't lie.