humbled

He wakes up in a strange place, trapped in a book about the world’s end!

I have posted this on my portfolio before but this is a edited and longer version.



The cold air makes him shiver as he feels goosebumps rise on his skin. The wind blows and salty air invades his name.

He hears waves crashing against the rocks. Water spray hits his face making him even colder. When he opens his eyes it takes his moment to realize what he’s looking at.
A sky with clouds so dark and dense they block out any trace of sun. gray and looming. It's strange. Usually the weather is dormant; so much so, that his neighbors whine about the Sun and the immense light that never failed to blind them… instead the sky is darkened. it's something he's not used to seeing.

He puts his hands on the sand to push himself up. Sand?

Is he at the beach? Why is he at the beach?

He swivels his head around for any sign of familiarity– on his left, the ocean, waves lashing at the shore like angry beasts. He turns his head, a forest on the right. a mass of dark trees that seem endless and leading deep into the land. The rest is just sand for miles.

He doesn't know how to describe it. Everything is desaturated as if the sun being obstructed has taken the vibrancy away, leaving only a lifeless looking shelf in its wake.

Where is he? He puts a hand to his head as a headache starts to form behind his eyes.. No matter how hard he tries he can't recall his memory of how he got here.

Did he fall asleep at the beach? No, that can't be right. He never likes going to the beach.

These clothes are especially odd too. brown pants that don't fit and a nerdy white blouse he would never wear. A belt is wrapped around his waist that holds scabbard at his hip. None of these are clothes he would usually wear. What's going on? The clothing is wrinkled with pieces of sand crushed in the creases. Was he washed up here? Lost at sea from a shipwreck or something. He frowns.

It would be just his luck to end up stranded on a random island, wouldn't it. The tiny pieces of rock dig into his palm as he pushes himself to try and rise.


A thundering boom goes off in the distance.

Startled by the noise, he yelps and falls back onto the sand.

He waits to see if he hears the noise again. Nothing happens.

He rises from the ground successfully this time. That was just an embarrassing fall.

He twists his head from the ocean towards the dampening forestry, where he heard the sound came from. his eyes meet the eerie shadows lurking below.

He narrows his eyes in suspicion. He turns his head to look at his surroundings, hoping to see something- anything that can tell him what's going on. but no matter where he looks, all he sees is the ocean and the forest behind him.

He tries to calm down his slowly rising alarm. Has he been kidnapped and the drugs wore off too soon or maybe he was stranded somehow? He went on a cruise and got lost at sea.

Another loud boom goes off in the distance and a man comes running out of the forest with a bleeding gash on his arm. The man is running straight towards him,. he starts to slowly walk backwards as the man approaches him feeling wary of who this might be. What if this guy kidnapped him here?

He breaks into a run when the guy gets closer.

“Wait!” the man yells out to him but he doesn't stop. Unfortunately for him the man is able to catch up. The man grabs on his sleeve. He tugs him around to face him. He flinches and shuts his eyes tightly, afraid of who this guy might be.

“Sir Samuel, we must make it back to the battle. The Trailon soldiers have arrived with their calvary”

His name is not Samuel and he’s never even known anyone by that name. He doesn't know why this man is calling him by that name.

Despite that his eyes snap open. Trailon- its a name he remembers. He tries to grab onto that memory with incredible effort. Trailon, he knows that name, but why? Where is it from? He knows that this is not what's important right now. He’s lost in a strange place and doesn't know where he is. He should be trying to get out of the man’s grasp and run away. He's acting stupid by just standing here but for some reason the name Trailon rings such a prominent bell in his head.

“Trailon?” he blurts out idiotically, his mind unable to catch up with his mouth.

The man has a frantic and panicked look on his face as he responds “Yes, soldiers from the trailon army of the east are right behind me. come we must go join our allies”.

Then it hits him all at once like a triangle has just been hit and ringing aftereffects bounce off of every surface in his head. That's where he knows the name Trailon from. He can feel his rapidly paling face as he stutters out another question. “What is it you called me?”.

The man barks out a response in pure fear this time tightening his grip on his sleeve “Sir Samuel, we will die if we don't-”.

The man isn't able to get far in his sentence before an arrow shoots through his chest. Instantly The man collapses onto the ground shouting out in pain.

He turns his head sharply to see where the arrow came from. He sees three men come out of the woods, all dressed in strange uniforms.

He barely has time to react before a man with the spear lunges at him. The sharp tip slices through the air, aiming straight for his chest. He sidesteps just in time, the spear grazing his shoulder as he drops low In a fluid motion, he scoops up a handful of sand from the beach and fling it directly into the man's eyes.
The man staggers back, blinking furiously, trying to clear his vision but it was too late.
He dashes over and delivers a hard punch to the man’s midsection, sending him sprawling to the ground. He doesn't stop there— standing up, his booted foot came down with enough force to ensure the man stayed down.
The other two men freeze for a split second, surprised by his quick triumph. Then one of them reached for a bow slung across his back while the other unsheathed a sword, charging at him with a glare.
The swordsman's strike came fast, but he had already anticipated it. He ducks just under the strike, This- the fighting was familiar, like he's done it a thousand times before, each motion was simple and swift. Each kick he threw was planned to hit a different portion of the body. The recognizable action of it leaves him feeling strangely calm.
In one smooth motion, he rushes forward and grabs the swordsman's shoulders and shoves him in front of his own body, using him as a shield. The archer’s arrow whiz past, embedding itself deep into the swordsman's back. The swordsman lets out a gasp of pain, as the air leaves his lungs. When he lets go, the man collapses in front of him.
He can't afford to pause and catch his breath, in spite of knowing that His mind flashes to something he doesn't have time to dwell on—Trailton. This wasn’t just a fight. He wasn’t himself right now. He was inside the book, the one he had read countless times. That name—Trailton—he’d heard it countless times, but never like this. In the book, the kingdom of Avale was at war with Trailon most of the time.
Shaking off the momentary thought, he darts toward the remaining archer. His sprinting slowed down the loose grains of sand easily shifting under his weight.
arrows shoot pasts dangerously close, The archer’s hands trembled as he knocked another arrow, but he was much faster. He reached him in a blur of motion, grabbing onto the archer's hair and slamming his head down onto his knee, effectively knocking him out.
Heaving a breath, he throws the limp body onto the ground. Sweat drips down his brow from exertion. He used to fight just like this all the time even though when he tries to think back on any memories of using his combat skills he comes up blank.

He walks over to a small spot on the beach where the water is still. He splashes his face with the liquid to get rid of the sand caking on his skin. The cold temperature of the water seeps into his skin making him shiver miserably.

Then he looks down into the water and gasps at what he sees. A face much different than his own looks back at him. Pale Viridescent eyes look back at him wide and scared. He jerks back falling on his hands, nausea rolling down his throat.

This isn't his face, it looks so wrong. What's happened to him?

He crawls back to water and looks down in terror at the face. He looks different ,so strange. oh god, it looks so wrong.

He puts a hand to his mouth and the reflection does too. This body is not his, bright hair curls around the ears and falls past his neck. When he brings a shaky hand to cup his face, so does the boy in the water.

This body is younger, it's only a kid. It looks nothing like him.

He never cared about his appearance that much but still. He's used to looking at his face. He would gaze at his face in the mirriror, scrutinizing the Thin lines that linger on his eyes and mouth. one of the only signs of him aging. How the skin around his neck has begun to sag and his jaw is not sharp it once was.

That's all gone now. Now matter how much he pulls and stretches at his face it only bounces back to its youthful appearance. He looks no older than a teenager.

For a moment he thinks that maybe he's just dreaming, maybe he's fallen asleep on the bus again. any moment the bus driver will wake him to kick him up and he'll be left in the middle of nowhere. none of this is real, nothing but a strange dream. Then he looks over at the bodies on the beach, and the dark sky above him. He lifts a hand to pinch his arm and reconciles with the painful sting that comes with it.

He heaves a final breath of excursion as he comes to a conclusion. This is the book ‘Vow of Oblivion’
Samuel straightens up and turns around and makes his way over the man that had the sword.
He knows it's not a perfectly logical conclusion, that he's somehow been transported into a book. a dozen other possibilities could be true. But for some odd reason he doesn't actually feel any doubt with his interpretation of this situation.
He takes the weapon from the man. With a sword in hand, he walks over the dense forest area and starts chopping through the obstacles in his path. Sounds of yelling and metal clanging ring out in the far distance. The more he thinks the more knows he's going to head toward the fight.
The thought that he is inside of a book is mindblowing to think. How is this even possible? Now granted, vow to oblivion is not just any old book. It's the most well written and captivating book Samuel has ever read. , but still. This is actually absurd.
Vow of Oblivion is an old age fantasy novel. Percival, the bitter son of a duke and the awesome protagonist of the book, grows up with a troubled childhood and continues getting darkened by the world around him. The book follows Percival's life and his growth to power. While reading the book is great, with the in depth writing and fantastic story, being inside the book is a nightmare come true.
Tiny cuts sting on Samuels forearm and prickle with pain as he extends his arms to chop down more branches in his way, they crack and break as they fall to his feet. all the thorns he's unable to avoid continue to cut him as he passes by. Each thorn that cuts him is a stinging reminder that this is all real.