The Legend of the Last Cerulean - I - 1 (en)

-What an absurd dream...
These were the first words I pronounced when I woke up. I wasn't really looking at anything, as if I was still half-asleep ; of course, there was no way to remember anything about the dream I've just had, except that I was familiar with the location it took place in.

Was this a forgotten place of my past? Probably. In fact I have no memories of my past prior to a morning three days ago.



I woke up in a grass-covered field, while the sun was slowly rising. I couldn't even remember why I was sleeping under the stars, where I was or even who I was.
Of course, I didn’t have memories about anything else. I was in a complete state of amnesia. However I still had vague memories of my name, or rather, of how it sounded. Sometimes I would remember a name, sometimes another, so I just merged both, and decided to call myself "Stranz".
Not that it really mattered; no one ever came here anyway.

I was living in a simple habitation that was probably left by its previous owners recently. Actually, I didn’t know if the previous inhabitants of the house would come back in two days or in two years, but everything I needed to live was here: there was enough food, water, and even the electricity was still functioning. Every day I looked for something I could give to the possible owners of the house to pay my intrusion off, but I didn't find anything that would be good enough.

The days flew by, without anything changing much. After a week though, the house started to be short of food. As I was looking for edible aliments, I caught a glimpse of a silhouette outside. Who was it? As long as I remembered, no one ever came here. Were the rightful owners of this place back? Contradictory thoughts crossed my mind. It felt like panicking and I felt like being carefree at the same time. I didn't know if I should apologize, if I should flee, or if I should pretend that this house was mine. As my head started to ache, I suddenly realized that we could hear a sound from downstairs: the stranger was knocking on the door. I thought as quickly as I could:

I just have a few seconds to decide wether I should-
Wait.
Did he just knock on the door ?
Does that mean that...
Doubtlessly, he isn't the owner of this house ! If he was, he would've simply entered. Then who could it be ? There isn't a single habitation miles from here. Then it's probably a simple traveler who got lost.
Yes, yes, of course this is what it is. I'm not going to abandon this house because of a single wanderer ! After all, we could say I became the guardian of this house... or even its owner !

The stranger was knocking on the door more and more loudly.
"I'm coming!" I shouted.
As I was about to open the door, I suddenly stopped, dumbfounded.
I lost all my memories prior to ten days ago.
I lived here for ten days.
And yet, this is the first time I've heard my own voice, for those ten days. It sounded unfamiliar to me, as if this voice didn't belong to me.
I realized that during those ten days, never, not even once have I met another human being. Not even once have I talked to someone else. Not even once have I even seen someone else.
How come I only noticed now how lonely I was ? Why wasn't I overwhelmed with this isolation ?
The stranger started knocking on the door again, pulling me from my thoughts.

I opened the door. In front of me, a strange man was standing, he looked young even though his eyes gave the impression that he witnessed countless events.

His hair was blonde, perfectly combed, and he was wearing a white shirt and a similar-colored scarf, as well as a red frock coat, the ensemble was completed by a red top hat.
This man struck me as someone who was more than just a passer-by.
"Good evening, sir, my name is Allan Sindré. I am someone very important, even though you probably didn't hear about me. I have to speak to you about a matter of great importance. May I come in ?"