"Ah, did I wake you...?" an amused voice sliced through Karn's haze.
He attempted to lift his heavy head, his vision blurred and dulled with the pain from his fall on the mountain path. Yet he could not move his head. As he surveyed his surroundings with wide eyes, a wave of confusion washed over him. The familiar sight of the mountain and the vast plains beyond had vanished.
Somehow, a part of him knew he’d been transported into a memory, a forgotten fragment of himself that he had lost.
The room remained shrouded in darkness, and a throbbing ache pulsed through his wrists, caused by a lingering pain from the iron restraints that bound him. Strangely, he couldn't feel his hands at all. Shifting his weight, he became aware of the cold surface pressing against his back—he’d been confined to a slab of stone within the dim chamber.
Each laboured breath scorched his lungs, and an overwhelming weariness had enveloped him. Something was terribly wrong. His body felt heavy and sluggish, as if it were no longer his own.
With great effort, Karn tried to move his head once more, but to his dismay, it remained still. The restraints that bound him tightened, digging into his flesh around his neck with a merciless grip. A trickle of liquid streamed down his face as a metallic scent filled the air. Though he couldn't see it, he knew it was his own blood. Its odour was so potent that he could even taste it in the air, a bitter tang lingering at the back of his mouth.
"Still breathing?" The alchemist's voice cut through the air as he approached, prodding Karn with the back end of a spear. Drawing nearer, he let out a grumbling, peculiar laugh.
"We're only halfway done," the man sneered, his face inches away from Karn's own, his breath shallow and taunting. "If only you could see yourself now. I wonder... Will it be more fun to show you, or perhaps..." He held up several vials containing different coloured liquids, scrutinizing their contents.
Stepping back, he shook his head and chuckled. "No, I think I'll keep you guessing. It will be far more entertaining that way."
A short, squat servant clad in thick robes scurried across the room, lifting something heavy from the table with a grunt. Suddenly, water cascaded down Karn's back, its sensation both cool and oddly distorted.
"Good. Get him up. We will need him soon," the alchemist commanded, his voice urgent.
"But, he's not yet finished," the servant's shrill voice pierced the air.
The alchemist swiftly turned, moving out of Karn's line of sight. The room filled with smoke, causing Karn's eyes to burn and vision to blur. Suddenly, a slow crack vibrated beside him, followed by a searing pain as he strained against the unforgiving restraints that held him in place. His breaths came in heavy, laboured gasps.
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He cried out in pain, but his voice sounded strange.
The alchemist reappeared, forcefully administering the contents of the vials into Karn's throat while closely inspecting his restrained form. Hour after agonizing hour dragged on as the alchemist continued his work. Every few minutes, the man vanished only to return with more vials, each filled with a different-coloured liquid. Then periodically sending fresh waves of pain through a new limb.
"This one might work as well," he mused, turning towards the servant. "Only beneficial potions, none of the slave tonics, or any of the other cursed vials."
The servant's voice trembled with curiosity. "What's protecting him from them?"
The alchemist let out a chilling laugh, his amusement clear. “Blood.”
Soon, the alchemist was joined by a group of men clad in dark robes, bustling around him in a hurried panic. However, they seemed to tire quickly as they lugged heavy buckets and doused Karn's back with burning white liquid.
Karn screamed in pain, but the sound came out more like a roar. The fresh cry of anguish sending waves of agony down his throat.
“He’s ready,” the alchemist said.
The shrill servant darted around, approaching Karn's front, and affixed a new iron collar connected to a long pole around his neck. In a matter of moments, all the men secured additional restraints around his arms and feet. The original bindings were released, and they slowly hoisted Karn’s bulk off the stone slab.
With grunts and heaves, the men strained to move Karn.
Yet his mind found the entire experience peculiar. These men, who had appeared tall and strong before, now struggled with the effort of hoisting him.
"Lean your weight more," the shrill servant commanded, and with gasps of exertion from the men, Karn lurched forward.
A strange realisation dawned upon him as he finally stood on his feet. He was standing on four feet way above the men who seemed as tall as children.
“Good!” the alchemist said.
"Alright, to the colosseum," the shrill servant declared amidst gasping breaths.
Karn was thrust onto a large, square metallic platform surrounded by thick, rusted chains. Then he was led down a long, narrow stone hallway. When they got to the end, the robed men twisted their poles, and the restraints fell to the floor. With a flurry of scurrying feet, they disappeared into the dark corners of the hallway and out of sight.
The doorway behind him slammed shut, barring his escape.
Above him, a flickering light diverted his attention. Suddenly, the roof cracked opened, revealing a clear blue sky. The ground trembled, and the metallic platform vibrated as it began to rise. The sky gradually drew closer, and although his eyes burned from the light, his vison slowly gained its familiar sharpness.
The dream slowly dissolved as Karn took a sharp intake of breath.
The towering mountain stood before him once again, casting a commanding presence over the landscape. It drew his gaze, capturing his unwavering attention. His goal, tantalizingly close, beckoned him.
He was covered in countless cuts and bruises, painting his clothes red.
Gasping for precious breath, he mustered the strength to sit upright, despite the agony coursing through his entire being. The pain was relentless, as if each movement sent shards of torment coursing through his veins.
He was sure that he had a few broken bones as he coughed up blood on the dirt between his legs.
Yet, amidst the pain, a burning anger surged within him. His gaze, no longer clouded by the fleeting memory. With determination blazing in his eyes, he pushed aside the memory and focused solely on the path that lay before him.