{\rtf1\mac\ansicpg10000\cocoartf102 {\fonttbl\f0\fswiss\fcharset77 Helvetica;} {\colortbl;\red255\green255\blue255;} \margl1440\margr1440\vieww5660\viewh2340\viewkind0 \pard\tx720\tx1440\tx2160\tx2880\tx3600\tx4320\tx5040\tx5760\tx6480\tx7200\tx7920\tx8640\ql\qnatural

\f0\fs24 \cf0 The sun was hard pressed on Locke's face. It was so hot out. The sun was unnaturally bright now. Locke rolled over onto his back, but winced as he rolled onto a sharp rock. His vision was still blurry. How long had he been sleeping for? Days? Weeks? The horrible stench of death hung in the air. Locke pulled himself up, but stumbled again.\
Locke groned. His leg was broken, probably in a few places. His mind was so blurry he couldn't remember a thing. Locke's mind jumped at the thought of having amnesia, and scrambled to gather the remnants of what was left of his shattered memory.\
"An island," his mind spoke. "An island in the sky." The words seemed strange. A ship came to mind, a ship of the sky. Locke remembered standing on the deck, staring out as birds flew by him. Friends had been with him. Powerful friends. They needed to get to the island in the sky.\
"Where am I?" he asked himself. The wind brushed by his cheeks. The sun was high in the sky, and clouds of dust whisked by his face. He felt the cool breeze and relished in it for a moment. It smelled salty. There must be water nearby.\
Locke limped slowly, woundering if there might possibly be any town near by. Locke woundered for a moment if he had a home somwhere out there. His mind flashed through his remaining memories, but all that came back was restless nights sleeping in Inn's and staying with kid strangers, but the faces were all a blur.\
Locke limped around. studying his surroundings, he watched for saw that he was in the mountains somewhere. Somewhere. He must be high up because he could see for miles around.\
'There must be somewhere I can go.' thought Locke. 'A town or someone who will help me.' Locke dragged his broken body up the cliff till his body fell onto the grass from exhaustion. Locke felt a trickle of liquid down his legs. Looking down Locke saw that blood had was emerging from the hole in his leg. Locke rolled over, panting for his life. How had he gotten into this mess?\
Removing his bandana from his head, Locke pulled it around his leg and tied it tight. Locke winced in pain and tried to straighted the break in his bones as best as he could. More needed to be done. He needed a brace.\
Locke found a sturdy stick and braced it against his leg. he pulled off his shirt and ripped a few pieces off. Tying the brace to his leg, Locke smiled in satisfaction to see his work. He needed to be careful still, but the brace would do for now.\
"It's a little shabby, but the price is right." Locke chuckled to himself. Locke nearly lost his balance then as a flood of memories came back. High on a city platform, a soldier. Green uniform. No, he was an empire soldier. The empire? Locke couldn't make the connections in his memories. Who was the empire.\
Locke rubbed his head with his hand, noticing for the first time the large cut in the back of it. Locke brought his hand forward to find it covered in blood. He had hit his head fairly hard. His bandana must have been sealing it until now. Locke's body wouldn't stand for much more blood loss. With no idea what he might do, Locke pulled his head to the sky.\
"Help!" he cried at the top of his lungs. It echoed into the depths of the mountains. There couldn't be anyone for miles. "Help!" cried Locke again, but only on instinct. He knew no one could hear him. Locke looked down across the landscape. There was ocean and plain as far as he could see.\
Locke then squinted harder into the distance. Just out of his sight, blocked by the cliff Locke was standing on, house tops protruded. Locke's heart skipped a beat. The houses looked almost untouched. He was saved. Locke carefully pulled himself up, and stumbled down the mountain toward the town. It was close enough, that maybe, just maybe.\
Locke's mind left the pain in his body for a moment to relish in the idea of a nice warm bed. Some warm food, perhaps a nice drink? That would be perfect right now. Just a few more steps and he would have it all . . .\ \
Three agonizing days later, Locke fell through the last bit of thick brush onto smooth plain. Locke had expected to fall into soft grass, but instead found dust flying into his face as he slumped onto dry dirt. Locke gasped for air and the dirty sand filled his lungs. Coughing and hacking to get it out, Locke lay a cheek on the ground. His splint had broken more times then Locke could count in the last three days. Locke didn't feel like repairing it again, and decided dragging himself along the ground into the city was the best option at this point. Locke pulled his hand forward and grasped at the ground. The heat was too intense. Locke needed to get as far as possible toward the city before he might pass out. Locke was using all his effort to pull, his sweat running down his face, mixing with the dry dirt. Locke was covered in dirt.\
Locke finally felt his body start to give in to the exhaustion. "Help!" he cried out with all his strength, but it only sounded like a whisper to him. His mouth was completely dry. The landscape was completely flat, without a sign of life anywhere. Locke didn't remember living in a world like this. He didn't want to.\
'Maybe it was okay to die here.' thought Locke. He couldn't remember anything that might be worth living for, and the landscape surrounding him seemed completely desolate. No life, no hope.\
Locke let his body sink into the ground. Death was a perfectly wounderful option. Locke almost felt a smile cross his face as he relished in the thought of just allowing himself to pass on right there. The warm sun sucking the only water on his body off his back. His clothes clung to him, dry as the dirt he lay on.\
Then Locke heard voices in the distance, and pattering of legs. What was that sound. The voice were crying to him. Perhaps they were coming to take him to the other side? That would be nice. At least it might be cool there. Comfortable.\
The voices seemed to be fading from his mind, but he was sure they were coming closer. Locke felt them coming closer but before he could hear what they said, Locke's mind let go of his body and was whisked away into subconcious.\ \
"How about a turn at the wheel?" Locke awoke, standing on the deck of a ship. A long haired man was talking to him. He wore a brown trench coat, and his long grey hair blew in the wind. It was so cool up here. Locke saw his body was battered and bruised, but his leg was healed. He was wearing a blue jacket, and his bandana was in tact over his head.\
The man was explaining the functions of the craft. Locke knew this was important, but his mind was far off, relishing in the comfort of the billowing winds. His jacket whipped around at his sides. The man with long grey hair stepped aside to reveal a large wheel. Locke stepped forward and grasped it in each hand. It was cold to the touch, but power rushed through him immediately. Locke realized suddenly that this huge vessel was at his very will and command.\
Locke looked into the clouds high above, determined to touch them himself. He pulled back and felt the vessel beneath him pulling upsard, higher and higher . . .\
"Are you awake sir?" a far off voice asked.\
Locke's eyes shot open. A woman was bent over his body. He lay in a soft bed. His leg was numb and he felt a long bandage around his head. The woman had grey hair wrapped into a bun at the back of her head. She stared at him with the deepest concern.\
"Your eyes were sort of flickering, I wasn't sure if you were awake or not." she asked. "Are you hungry sir?"\
"Where am I?" Locke asked.\
"Jidoor." the woman answered. "I am a maid here. My master asked that I take care of you while he is out."\
"Your master?" Locke asked.\
"Yes. He says he knows you. He calls himself Impressario."\
That name jolted Locke's memory. He knew he'd heard it before. Somewhere . . .\
"He told me you helped his out of a it of a spot once."\
Locke nodded, not wanting to reveal he had no idea what she was talking about. She smiled down at Locke and pulled herself off the bed. "I will get you something to eat. Impressario won't be home for a few days, but he would want you to make yourself at home. Anything to eat?"\
Locke nodded. He didn't care what, but suddenly realized how hungry he was. The grey haired woman nodded and left the room.\
Locke lay back in the bed. It was what he wanted. Was he really dead? He made a mental note to ask the woman. He closed his eyes again. He wanted to be flying again. He wanted control of the vessel again. He could feel the wheel in his hands, cold steel. The wind blowing in his hair, and before Locke could stop himself, he fell into deep sleep again.}