Mahua Xie forced his heavy eyelids to open as if prying Excalibur from its stone sheath.
How did he even know that? He had no Idea.
His body ached, every bone felt like it was ready to splinter and scatter like ash on the wind.
His feet hurt, his arms hurt, Gods— everything hurt.
He tried to sit upright, moving his legs and arms clumsily, strangely and uncoordinated, like he wasn't used to them.
When he finally sat upright, it was clumsy—like a seven-month-old baby finding it's balance for the first time, he was happy, but sadly there were no parents in front of him with big smiles on their face to cheer for him.
He took a look at his surroundings, there were trees everywhere, and somewhere far away lingered the smell of burnt wood and the metallic tang of blood.
Where was he.
Was that his home being burned? Or had he been the one who set the fire and killed those people?
Since he was far away from the burning, the slaughter, maybe he was the one who caused it.
He burned it and killed the humans.
But why?
He couldn't remember anything, trying to remember something made his head pound against his brain before a sinking feeling went through his heart and like a boulder it fell into his stomach.
It was a feeling that promised no remembrance, he couldn't remember no matter what.
All he could remember was his name, Mahua Xie, and that he was a Cultivator.
If he closed his eyes, his body would instinctively move and do fight forms, he oddly felt like a puppet on a string but he felt no strings on his soul or body.
Doing some light stretching on the ground, forcing his body to remember movements was painful but necessary.
He tried reaching for his legs that were stretched in front of him, then doing it the other way, lifting his legs up and trying to make them touch his fingers as he laid down and had his hands over his head.
He stayed in those positions for about 5 to 6 minutes before he changed them.
After finally coming to accept his body he went for standing up, this time it wasn't much different from him trying to sit up.
His legs shook like water rippling after stones fell into it.
He had to stabilise his body with a tree that he put his body weight onto, his legs kept trembling, it almost felt like they weren't used to standing, how would it end if he tried walking then?
He would fall face down and eat some dirt in the process, and he wasn't the type to like eating mud, not that he knows what kind of person he is.
He felt utterly lost in the jungle. The realization of how alone and lonely he is weighted him down.
He was somewhere with no memories of who he once was before.
'Well, this is fun. Lost in a Jungle with no clue who I am. Fantastic.' He commented internally to himself, he didn't want to appear insane if he said it out loud—even if it's animals watching him.
He took his first steps, although shaky it was something, he was proud of himself for this one, since there isn't anyone to be proud of him.
Slowly, he took steps and walked in a straight wobbly line to a tree that was four arms length away from him.
His foot prints were on the ground, the dirt smeared on his sole and toes.
He reached the tree, stabilising himself before his legs gave up from just only walking. 'If I can't even walk, how am I supposed to survive in a Jungle? This is just great.'
With a sigh he flopped onto the ground, his buttocks touched the dirt once again. The chilly air that went through the forest hit his whole body, making it shudder.
Only now had he realised his nakedness, he was butt naked, and dirty, no clothes—nothing.
He had no weapons, the most important things you would need to survive anywhere. It didn't matter if it was in a Jungle, it was a necessity to have weapons on you.
He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself for a scrap of warmth as he contemplated what to do.
1. Cover his most private part up.
2. Explore the Jungle for any exit.
3. Find water.
4. Find food.
5. Survive. (Optional, he doesn't think he'll die with regrets since he doesn't remember any at all to begin with.)
He took leaves that were as big as his palm, some vines which he took the sharp nubs off and fashioned something close to a crude leaf skirt—short, indecent, but practical for moving.
This time getting up didn't seem as hard as before, his legs still felt like jelly but moving didn't make it seem like they were going to break anymore.
He walked south, small rocks pressed against his sole but the pain was ignored by the astonishment he felt, it almost seemed like he was on a hill part of the jungle, it looked like if he tried to walk down he would roll down.
He tried it anyways.
He took one of the longer vines and wrapped it around the tree, in case he began rolling instead of walking he would have support to get back on his feet.
With small steps he went down the stoney hill with some worms peeking out beneath the ground, he took back the urge to vomit.
He took a step down on the rock that looked far more stable and deep rooted into the ground than the others and began the path of going down while carefully holding the vine—rope that dug into his fingers, making the tip of them slightly white from little blood circulation.
He continued going down, he lost a few footings from there and there also nearly lost his grip from the vine-rope but he was going off strong.
As the joy of almost reaching the ground could go through him, a growl, deep, guttural and definitely beastly was heard with the noise of leaves rustling and earth rumbling.
"You've got to be kidding me!"Mahua Xie gritted out between his teeths as he tried getting down quickly.
Because of the fact he could dieright now at any minute, mixed withthe dread, he lost his footing.
The vine-rope got thinner and thinner from Mahua Xie's endlessmovements of going down and the rubbing against the bark, then, with a snap—the vine-rope broke.
...
"FUUUUUCCCCKKK!!!" a Roar tore itself from his lips as his body rolled down, stones tearing into him, insects crushed beneath him, their remains clinging to his skin like honey to fingers.