The clanking of metal armor.
The Prince could only hear the thud of his own footsteps and the blood rushing in his ears, and the pounding of his head.
Stone grinding on stone.
He was growing more tired with each step. But he couldn't stop- if he stopped, he would die. But that wouldn't be the first time, would it?
A bright flash. Searing pain.
The fine sand of the valley grew coarse and eventually turned to dirt. The dirt turned to rock- slick rock. The Prince's chest was visibly rising and falling with each heaving breath as he felt his legs grow weak. The ground rushed up to meet him.
Darkness.
--
For a few moments the Prince simply lay there upon the warm and wet rocks, letting the memory play over and over in his head as he struggled to ignore the physical pains in his chest and legs. The environment seemed to be a welcome change, it was at least warmer than the valley, but the Prince was drenched, and not all of it was sweat. He felt the reflection of his breath as he lay face first in the rocks. Turning his head to one side he began to examine his surroundings better. It was only then that he noticed the river; the Prince could still barely hear anything over the throbbing of his head and the rushing noise in his ears. There was also some color here, in a very faded-green variety found in some of the grasses near the river. He wished he could stand and soak in it, but his legs felt like jelly, and even if they didn't, he was unsure if he trusted it, anyway. Finding that the waters melted flesh was the least horrible thing the Prince could fathom.
The Prince flipped himself onto his back and slowly stretched his legs and arms out, letting his sheathed blade rest on his chest. He wiped the slick-with-sweat hairs out of his face and did his best to relax between heavy, panting breaths. Closing his eyes he allowed the new memory once more, examining it more closely.
The clanking of metal armor.
In the memory it was obvious where this came from- the armored man. The one that had just sacrificed himself. He couldn't see him clearly, but the Prince could hear him and something in him knew it was the same armored man.
Stone grinding on stone.
It was Tomb, appearing out of nowhere as the Prince had witnessed several times before. Had it appeared, though? Or had it always been there? Regardless, the Prince could see his surroundings more clearly here. Well-worked stone surrounded him as well as tapestries and cups of gold and silver. The Prince was certain it was a castle. But was it the one in the distance he had sought for so long? Had the Prince made it to the castle in a past life, only to be killed with no recollection of that memory to start the cycle again? Who was to say the Prince hadn't been here for hundreds of years doing the same thing over and over, only to have the cycle broken by the armored man?
A sorrowful sigh.
Wait, that wasn't the memory. The Prince broke out of his own mind and shifted his head again- one of the party; his companions, he should call them. The woman. He felt confident the other two were nearby. She was sitting on the rocks, but glancing at her face the Prince saw tears before she turned her head the other way.
This wasn't the first time he had seen a woman cry.
'Not again-'
As before the Prince felt his mind unfurling itself, though it was felt different this time. Like a half-remembered dream quickly lost on crusty awakening eyes; a realization of something that that was equally startling to find yet felt had always been there. This was not a new memory, rather, it felt like clarification of his other memories. He saw a woman- beautiful and dark-haired, tears streaming down the skirts of her nose and down her freckled cheeks. She was there beside the Prince as he knelt in front of the throne; stood next to him on the stage as the crowd shouted; ran beside him as the two fled the angry mob; held his hand as the man wrapped his bleeding arm; was knelt beside him on the chopping block. In each memory tears streamed down her face, except the one where the executioner stood over her. In that one her face was strong and stoic.
The Prince wasn't sure who the woman in his mind was, but thinking of her made his heart flutter with affection and emotions. The Prince blinked hard a few times and wiggled his toes and fingers to remind himself of where he currently was, lest he get caught in a loop of new revelations and emotions, but all at once they came flooding back and he felt overwhelmed. Tears were now leaking out of his eyes as he stared up at the green-grey sky. He muttered two words:
"I remember." The Prince whispered, thinking of the woman.
"I remember." He repeated, thinking of the armored man.
