Hiding was probably the worst thing you could do if you were in an area that you weren’t supposed to be in. Even more so if the area was filled with bipedal wolves. Very lethal looking bipedal wolves that just might have caught your scent. So naturally, I pulled back and weaved through the crates to find somewhere to hide.
Because today was a day meant for bad decisions.
I felt all of Sneak’s Sub-skills working overtime as they tried and failed to find a spot that wouldn’t get me found out. These crates weren’t the run-down broken things littering the alley I’d used earlier, these were newer. I heard a commotion on the dock as a raspy voice, who had to be the guy in charge, start complaining.
“The hells are you all standing around for! Get! Identifying!”
There was a grumbling affirmative from the wolves as they trudged towards the cargo. As I moved, every part of me still soaked, I was silently panicking as the Skill I’d relied on so heavily failed to do its job. Small blades was nudging my thoughts towards finding a knife again, being unhelpful as ever. Meditation though, told me I was wasting my time panicking and urged me to take a deep breath. As desperate as I was for a way to not get chewed on by talking wolves I actually listened to meditation for once. Breathing deep as the Skill stilled my thoughts. I felt a wave of surprise pass over me as the Skill muted the distractions of rioting emotions in my head and the threats I knew were around me. It even helped me push away the shiver of discomfort from the cold.
I’d tried meditating before of course. But I could never get it to work for me. There’d always been too many things on my mind, too many problems to worry about to just sit and do nothing. But the Skill Mediation wasn’t anything like what I’d done before. It was like what you’d expect true meditation to be like. Not the few minutes of calm a modern adult could manage but the serenity of something more. Almost monk like. In the midst of the Skill my desperate desire for a hiding place was crystalized and held at arm's length. Not a thing that needed to be acted on immediately but a question that needed to be pondered.
I needed to hide. But my Skills were telling me I couldn’t. Why was that?
They had worked so perfectly before. And I had been hiding from experienced guardsmen. People who were actually familiar with the Sneak Skill and its myriad of upgrades. What had changed? The people I needed to hide from now were wolves sure, but they were still technically people. Just a kind I’d never encountered before. The crates around me were newer, certainly, but they weren’t brand new. They would have wear and tear like anything else. There must be one that could fit me.
Still in the thrall of Mediation I brushed over the part of my mind with the cluster of Sneak Skills and focused on them one by one. Low Profile was focused on laying low, something that was useful but wouldn’t help me in such a tight space. The same with Prowler. There was no room to move around the cargo. Quick Cover was the skill that would be most needed here, but it couldn’t find any place to hide. It took a few seconds focusing on the Skill, but I realized what was wrong. The Skill’s name was Quick Cover. Quick being the operative word. There were places to hide here just none that could be entered quickly.
With that fresh I mind I refocused on my surroundings and the places the Skill had previously discarded as hiding spaces. One was a box at waist height. In the middle of a stack of crates. One of the wooden boards that made up its side was loose, hanging slightly ajar. Moving with steady quickness, I gripped the board and shimmied it back an forth as quietly as possible. Prying its nails loose. I felt a bead of sweat trickle into my eye that I brushed away as the minutes passed. Meditation downplaying but not quite drowning out the ruckus of moving crates as the wolves moved cargo to the dock and got closer to me.
With an audible clunk that was thankfully hidden by the other sounds around me I got the board free and moved it to lay lengthwise in the box. The opening was thin as a board, literally. But it was just enough for my shoulders to squeeze through with some effort. Sticking my head inside I couldn’t make out what was inside the thing. The crate was big but cramped with whatever it had been filled with. I had to put my arms ahead of me and shimmy my way inside for a good while before I could squeeze in far enough to get my legs inside.
I felt what was probably a nail poke into my ribs as I hissed in pain and tried to find a better position. Suddenly hoping that the Tetanus shots I’d gotten as a kid also covered fantasy Tetanus.
I felt and heard movement as the stack of crates next to me was taken down and moved away. I had barely remembered to get the board I’d moved back to its spot and pin it with my foot before a pair of wolves stalked forward. My breaths turning thin and shallow as Meditation struggled to keep me calm.
“Hrmm. Right here.” A wolf growled as he rested a hand against the wood of the box I was in. His claws tapping the wood inches from my face. My shallow breathing cutting off as I held my mouth shut, not daring to breathe. I didn’t even move my eyes, sure that they’d make a sound somehow in their sockets.
“There was someone here.”
“Oh? You plan on telling the boss that?” The other said. With more than a little amusement. “I didn’t take you for a lapdog.”
The claws next to my head cut through the wood with a distressing amount of ease as the other wolf growled, clearly furious. The sound thrummed through the air like it came from a frickin sub-woofer. My mouth pressed together in a line as I tried to fight down a groan. Sub-woofer? God help me, I’m starting to use puns as a coping mechanism. If I die here, I’ll consider it a mercy I got put down before my brain hounds me with bad puns.
I bit my lip as I realized my error. Hounds me? Hounds!? Someone just fucking kill me.
“I won’t tell him a damn thing Guel.” The wolf chuffed. “And I hope whoever was here stole something expensive. You have the scroll. Get this over with already.”
“Fine fine.” I heard the other one respond as I heard the rustle of parchment being unfolded. I was still. Trying to ease the burning in my lungs by breathing as slowly as possible. That was why I didn’t focus on what the wolf was doing until I felt the spell being cast on me.
My Class was called a Spellbreaker. I may not have known anything else about the world I’d gotten thrown into, but I knew that much. Aside from the weird sigils cracking when I’d swam to the underside of the floating river, I hadn’t done anything at all I’d consider magical. Apart from the speed boost offered by my three points in Dexterity. My Class ability was something called Mind over Magic. I could feel the thing in the center of my being all this time, it had just been fast asleep as I’d ran for my life. Now however, feeling the charge of a spell spinning up, it woke with a roar.
In an instant I felt the ability blaze to life as my mind spun with new information. A bundle of sensations fed into me by the ability as it processed the spell outside. Intrinsically, I could feel the structure of the spell on that scroll. Almost as if I could trace it out by touch. Taste? Its song? The information blurred together as I tried making sense of it all. The pattern of the spell blazing in my mind as my ability worked to break it down. The topmost layer of its pattern was a twisting network of nodes feeding into each other as they amplified the caster’s sensory inputs. The underlying sublayer a construct designed to warn of incompatible or malevolent mana. Simple in design, almost basic even.
My eyes opened wide in fear as I realized what the thing was, despite seeing it for the first time. Identify. I could see it almost as if it had been spelled out in front of me. The spell was literally designed to identify whatever object or person it was cast upon. The wolf casting the spell would know exactly where I was as soon as the spell finished casting.
Following the urgings I felt from my Class ability I focused on pushing against the spell. Unknown instincts guided my thoughts as I felt the spell’s resistance to tampering. Its own built-in safeguards. Mind over Magic guiding me ever so subtly towards points of failure in the spell. Like pressure points on the body or weaknesses in a pane of glass. It was hard, giving me a blinding headache even with the coolness of Meditation keeping my focus sharp. I felt a warm trickle drip out of my nose as I felt a resounding crack. Like the mental equivalent of a firecracker. My head lolled back as my vision blurred. Running a hand over my face as I looked down at the blotch of red blood on my hand. I have enough presence of mind to wad my shirt up and press it against the flow as the pain in my head sharpened.
“Well? Don’t leave me waiting. What do I mark these crates as?” The loud wolf said as I heard the other shake his scroll. Like he could get it working by ruffling it right.
“I think this one’s broken.” He said befuddled. “It took my mana just fine a second ago. But now it’s fizzled out see?” He said followed by more ruffling paper.
“Cheap bastard.” The wolf said and I had the distinct impression that he’d just shook his head. “Who cheaps out on a basic spell like that?”
“Our boss apparently.” The wolf holding the scroll snickered. “Let’s just put these to the side, identify them later. Yeah?”
The wolf answered with an affirming grunt as they moved around my hiding spot. Moving away with the crate that had been stacked on top of mine. I debated trying to sneak out as they moved away but gave up the thought almost immediately. Breaking that “basic spell” had given me a real monster of a headache and I didn’t think I was capable of anything else besides lying down. Fortunately for me, lying down was all I needed to do to make my getaway.
The same wolves that had come by before, now a bit less talkative that they had labor to do lifted up the box I was in and moved it to the dock. With an alarming amount of ease, I might add. I hadn’t even been able to budge the things before.
Note to self. I mused tiredly. Don’t piss off any wolves. Pissing off a wolf would probably shorten my life expectancy.
After a minute of being carried, I was unceremoniously dropped to the ground with a thud. Thankfully not stabbing myself on that bent nail I’d hit before. I was just about to start relaxing when one of the wolves, the one who had sniffed me out the moment I’d seen him. Said “You smell that right?”
“The blood? Oh definitely.”
My heart stopped as I froze completely. My brain short circuiting as it tried to deal with the aftermath of countering a spell and my immanent death. I couldn’t think of a single thing to do or say. I had no options left. I was about to start talking and hope I could get myself out of this that way when an unexpected swift kick to the crate made me bite my tongue. And shut me up just in time.
“Rat probably crawled in and died.” The wolf who had used the scroll laughed. Oblivious to my panic and the pain in my mouth. “Remember when Rufus opened that crate and a rat ran up his arm?”
The other wolf chuckled as the pair moved away and continued talking. I was equal parts grateful to be left alone and bitter at having to put up with so much crap just to hide. My head was killing me, I probably had fantasy Tetanus, and I bit my tongue. The only positive I could glean from the situation was the blinking notification in my mind as I opened it.
[You have broken a new Spell Form: Identify]
[You have learned new Spell Splinters]
[Multi-sensory Override, Danger Sense, Psychometry]
I beamed at the sight of the new spells, or Splinters I guess since they had come from me breaking that Identify. Everything I had seen here had been some flavor of magical, sure. And my new Skills and Attributes were definitely not normal in any sense of the word. But, seeing those Splinters and knowing that they were inherently magical just did something for me. Who the hell wouldn’t be exited at learning real magic? I’ll admit getting chased by the guard and almost attacked by a mob of peaceful church goers had been a steep price to pay but I’ll take what I can get.
Multi-sensory Override sounded metal as hell. It also wasn’t immediately clear what it did. It had come from the sensory amplifying component in the Identify scroll so I suppose it would, what, override my senses? Actually, now that I thought about it, having any part of my brain get an override sounded painful. I’d have to be careful with that one.
Danger Sense though… Danger Sense! I rubbed my hands together and grinned despite the narrow space making the gesture kinda awkward. Giving a small prayer of thanks to that small sublayer of the scroll designed to detect dangerous objects. Danger Sense wasn’t just overpowered, it was the ultimate cheat ability. The one thing that separated the common man from the bullet dodging heroes. This one was a win. Full stop no questions asked. I would…have to be in danger to use it though.
That thought dumped a bucket of water on my internal parade. I’d flirted with danger more than I’d have liked this past day and that had met and exceeded my danger quota for the decade. I felt Small Blades quail in the back of my head at the thought of less danger and I mentally slapped the thing. Down boy, no knife fighting.
That just left me with what came out of the rest of the spell, Psychometry. Which was what again? It rang a bell in the back of my head, but I couldn’t remember. It had been a term I’d heard on Earth. Something to do with psychics? Psychic readings?
I was gonna snap my fingers when I figured it out, but I was still hiding and that would have been dumb. Psychometry had been on a sign I’d seen on the side of the road once. In one of those little roadside buildings that sold crystals and dream catchers. It had something to do with reading the memories of objects. That was…fine. I guess. Kinda a letdown after Danger Sense honestly. Did that make me a full-blown Psychic then? Or was I only slightly psychic?
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
After reviewing my gains from the spell, I nodded. My headache finally lessening in intensity enough for me to grab the board I’d pried loose earlier. My Dexterity working overtime as I contorted my body inside the crate to reach it and pull it aside. I listened hard for any movement nearby, still a little unwilling to try Multi-sensory Override, even if it might help. Moving with a yoga instructor’s grace I shimmied my way back outside the crate. Crouching behind it as I got my bearings.
The side I’d crawled out of had been facing the wall of the warehouse, around me were the other crates the wolves hadn’t been able to identify. There was a bunch of stacked boxes that filled up a large part of the interior of the space. Not just the ones that had been taken off the barge either. The large open door to the water way the barge had come through still open, but I discarded the possible exit as I shivered. Not at all willing to try swimming again after almost falling out of the river.
I heard a commotion and peeked around my crate to see where all the wolves had gone. They were all gathered around the same spot. Not moving crates anymore as they got chewed out by a short man I presumed was their boss. The scene would have been comical if it hadn’t been real. A bunch of killer looking wolves, ears flat, as they got shouted at by a man at least a foot and a half shorter than all of them.
It was exactly the kind of break I needed after everything I’d gone through today. Not wasting any time, all my Sneak related Skills flared to life as I stayed close to the wall keeping as much distance between me and the wolves as I could. Trying to search for a door along the wall that might lead outside. I frowned as I pressed my hand along the wall. There wasn’t anything here on my side of the building. If I followed the wall, I was bound to find a door eventually, but doing so would put me closer to the group of wolves.
With a pained sigh I crept closer, keeping crouched despite the high stacks of boxes. Not willing to risk any chance of being found after that disaster in the church. With my luck trespassing in a warehouse probably carried the death penalty. While I kept my gaze on the floor, stepping around any pebbles or splinters that I found because I was that nervous about making a sound. I flinched as I heard a cry of frustration. My ears picking up on the dock boss’s tirade.
“All I ask is that you don’t go breaking the damn scrolls! This!” He said followed by the sound of flailing paper as he shook the scroll. “This is a hundred- no, a thousand times harder to replace than you are! Any of you! You should all be grateful you have jobs! Nobody else is hiring mutts like you! Except. For. Me!” The man shouted. Sounding like he was going red in the face with anger.
I paled and actually stopped sneaking away for a bit after hearing part of the man’s rant. A twisting sense of guilt burrowing into my gut as I saw the aftermath of breaking a single spell. They weren’t actually that expensive, were they? Identify was a basic spell, I'd felt it and I'd even heard the wolf say so before. If I hadn’t broken it when I did then I’d have been found out and dragged from my hiding spot. Plus, this part of the city was shady as hell. The little bit of it I’d seen from my river ride giving the impression it wasn’t the kinda place you’d want to be in after dark.
Despite my better judgment, I peeked around the edge of a crate. He was currently jabbing a finger at a wolf in front of him. Holding the scroll bunched up in his other hand.
“The scroll was defective.” The wolf said not trying to growl as deeply as he normally did while speaking. I realized the wolf had been the same one that had cast the Identify I’d broken.
“Nothing I buy is defective!” The man screeched. “There isn’t a single man in High Water with a better reputation than me!”
There was a pause after that sentence where nothing was said but I had the distinct impression many were trying not to snicker.
Sending a silent apology to the wolf and his buddies I moved on and tried ignoring the disquiet in my conscience. Telling myself I’d try and do something good for the wolf once I got my shit together. I’d gotten chewed out a few times myself working other jobs, most recently being Antonio’s last-minute firing of me before I got yoinked by this “Akashic” system thing.
I saw a door leading out of the warehouse finally and without a moment’s hesitation I slipped through it and out the other side. It was well and truly dark now, the only light I could see by was the light of sparsely placed street light crystals and the glow of the moons above. That caught me off guard for like half a second. Two moons? Sure, why not.
Moving at a brisk speed walk I crossed the street to the side across from the warehouse and started walking. The streets almost absent of people. In every city I’d seen there was usually a pretty thriving nightlife. It left me feeling uneasy. Enough so that I moved into the deeper shadow of a building to just sit for a minute. No more running from the guards or hiding from talking wolf people.
As if my body had been waiting for the opportunity, I leaned back against the wall and collapsed more than sat. The accumulated fatigue of everything I’d done in the last few hours alone hitting me all at once. Three Dexterity or not I was still the same unfit person I’d always been.
I pressed my hands into my face and rubbed at my eyes. Realizing only now how tired I was. How long had I been awake? Seventeen, eighteen hours? I'd only gotten a small nap in when I'd been woken up back in my apartment. I had to find somewhere to sleep tonight. A grumble from my stomach also reminded me that I’d gone without food for a while too.
I quirked a smile in dark amusement. I wasn’t just homeless. I was fantasy homeless. That terrible joke of a thought actually made me chuckle. Just stick “fantasy” on then end of every problem I had and suddenly they didn’t seem so bad. Fantasy depression. Fantasy poverty. Fantasy hunger.
The only plus to my situation was that I was too tired to freak out about it. So I just made a list of what I needed instead. First sleep, then food, then money, then…
I flicked open my status. Getting a good look at what was probably the biggest problem I had.
Find someone to explain all this.
[Name: Toby Kincaid]
[Race: Variant Human]
[Class: Spellbreaker (Rare)]
[Level: 1]
[Attributes: Dexterity - 3 Wisdom - 0]
[Abilities: Mind over Magic]
[Skills: Sneak lvl. 1, Small Blades lvl. 1, Meditation lvl. 1]
It was a relatively small amount of stuff at least. Imagine if I had a Skill for every little thing. Then reading this thing out might take forever. I felt I could move to another page for my Skill Trees but there was already a lot here and I didn’t need any more to think about. Though one thing stuck out to me now that I looked at it. My race wasn’t just human, but a Variant human. Whatever that meant.
I’d seen it before. Before the system dragged me over to this world, I distinctly remembered how the system had trouble classifying me. Eventually adding the “Variant” to my race. I’d been a bit too panicked at the time and busy afterward to think about it. What did it mean? How did that make me special? Not a clue.
As for me being level one. I raised a hand to my temple, vainly trying to rub away the last of my headache as I stared at my level. Rather than be elated by the thought of having a level attached to myself somehow it only highlighted how little I knew. How do I grow in level? Is there a max level and if so, what was it? Five? Five thousand? What did I get for leveling up?
I let my thoughts take on the collected calm of Meditation as I sat. The feeling actually being quite pleasant now that I wasn’t forced to run for my life. The Skill helping me push away the discomfort of my wet clothes. With Meditation active, I reexamined my status page again and let its information truly sink in. I was an outsider here. I thought to myself as my breathing slowed. It’s only natural that I feel overwhelmed by things I don’t understand. But even if I’m lacking the proper information. I can still make assumptions based on my observations.
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I felt a wave of amusement ripple over the stillness of Meditation. I seriously just used the words "assumptions based on my observations". Unironically. Skills were wild man. God, I wished I’d had this thing in my head back in college.
With a mental nudge from my Skill, I refocused on what I knew. I received three Attribute points on Classing up, or Awakening as the locals here called it. If I received three Attribute points, then it stood to reason that I’d get three at every level in my Class. That would absolutely be something I’d work towards. Those three points gave me the edge I’d needed to escape from trained guards. Having more of them and being able to run even faster was a simple goal I immediately latched onto.
As for Wisdom. I frowned at the zero in the Attribute. It was probably connected to the magical part of my new abilities. Having more points in that would reduce the pain of spell breaking in the future most likely. Considering a little Identify scroll was enough to almost lay me out. I’d have to put some points there too if I wanted to advance in my Class’s signature ability.
The lack of other attributes annoyed me though. Every video game I’d ever played conditioning my mind to think in terms of balanced stats and how best to min max builds. Where was the difficulty in balancing only two stats? Might as well flip a coin every level to decide which attribute gets the points.
Brushing those thoughts aside I looked inward. I’d already had plenty of time getting acquainted with my Skills, except for Small Blades but I’d figure out something for that later. Point being, I had magic now. Real. Bona-fide. Yer-a-Wizard-Toby magic.
I may have been broke, hungry, and homeless. But I was absolutely going to try one of my new spells- er Splinters. Did I have to do this right now? No, but I was going to. It was about time I had something go my way today.
Feeling more than a little protected within the thrall of Meditation I looked straight to Psychometry. Mutli-sensory Override sounded ominous, and Danger Sense probably required actual danger to function. Unless…I strained. Forcing mana towards Danger Sense. Nothing happened.
Whatever, I wanted to use Psychometry first anyways.
I focused on the splintered remains of Identify. Mentally holding the image of the spell form that had broken to form Psychometry. With a nudge of will and more than a little help from the ingrained knowledge of my class I focused my mana on the Splinter and fed it. Feeling something take as it sparked to life within me. I looked to my hand feeling a real thrum of force vibrating through it despite the lack of any visual sign of the magic I knew was there. I’d been hoping it would glow blue, but hey, what can you do?
Lacking any object to touch around me I decided I’d try and find a bottle to touch. Anything really. Not thinking, I made to get up and placed my hand on the ground to push myself up.
Now modern media had given me some idea of what a Spell Splinter like this might do. Some whispers, some intangible sensations, something esoteric that I’d have to spend hours puzzling out. No. The first thing I felt wasn’t a whisper. It wasn’t some distant sensation.
It was a fucking brain hemorrhage.
Before I even had the time to lift my hand off the ground. I felt Meditation crack like a pane of glass. The Skill shattering to pieces in my mind. Just as I felt the backlash of that I was hit by a wave of-
“Don’t stray too far Micah! It’s dangerous ou-”
“She’s a beaut ain’t she. Fresh from the Smith’s forge-”
“Fresh from the fields! You’ll not find a better-”
“Where to my love? I’ve heard there’s a street Mage over-”
“A Pox on the damn Duke! He ain’t fit to piss in my-”
“Give it back! It’s my ball and I want it back-”
“Thief! Thief! That man just stole my-”
“Stay safe deary. Murk district ain’t the same since Black-”
“There’s been another. Oh Broken Gods. Another killing-”
“Mummy why ain’t that man moving-”
“Please! It’s all I have! I don’t have anything-”
“Get the damn Shields! Murder! There’s been another-”
My mind utterly buckled under the weight of the collected memories. Every attempt I made pushing against the tide as futile as trying to move the ocean with my bare hands. They flowed into me in waves. The voices of a thousand strangers washing over and into each other as they eroded against the shore. My own sense of self falling away into the sea as somewhere far away, my body writhed on the ground. My hands trying to dig the voices out of my skull.
There was nothing besides the voices. Any attempt to string my own thoughts together torn to pieces as they were drowned in foreign words attached to alien concepts. I stopped thinking. I didn’t need to anymore.
I couldn’t say how long it took for the memories to drain away. It was slow. Like a tide receding from the beach. Even longer for me to recognize the pain of the cuts from my own fingernails on my face. My breaths were shallow and quick, almost on the verge of hyperventilating as drool and tears mixed on the ground. The notification in my mind the only clear note ringing in the void.
[Status Condition: Psycho-Strain (Greater)]
[A considerable amount of damage has been sustained by your consciousness and core personality.]
[Increased susceptibility to Psionic attacks. Decreased ability to maintain standard cognitive functions.]
[Your mana channels have locked around your most recently cast spell forms. Beware]
My first thought came out as a primal ball of fear as I reread the notification and the realization hit me. I was still casting Psychometry. I couldn’t stop casting it. With a cry I scrambled to my knees, keeping my hands pressed against my chest as I kept them as far from the ground as possible. Afraid the cobblestone street itself might reach up and grab me. Dragging me down into the memories soaking every inch of them.
“Oh…Gu…Oh God…” I pant. Every syllable a struggle to form. My tongue feeling like a ball of putty. My body shaking as it geared itself up to run from a threat that wasn’t real. I clambered to my feet. Even the simple movement taking a real force of will to get my body moving. My brain felt like mush. The echoes of a thousand different thoughts dragging me down as I latched onto a single word.
“H-help…” I breathed. Not just asking for it but knowing that I absolutely needed it. I shuffled forward, stooping over as I guarded my hands against anything that might touch them and trigger Psychometry to go off again. At some point I even started mumbling as I tried to piece words together again in the way they were supposed to go. There were other people moving down the street, but all of them stayed far away from me. I didn’t blame them. I probably looked insane. Hell, I felt like I was one step from the brink.
My only saving grace, the only truly good stroke of luck I’d had that night was that I’d walked down the right street. I looked up at a squat, square looking building that stood out from all the rest. The lights were on inside and some light outside illuminated a large design on the outside wall. A shield with an armored gauntlet in the center, palm outward. The same kind I’d seen on the armor of all the guards that had chased me.
I think it said a lot about my current state of mind that I was overjoyed at seeing the familiar sight. In that moment I was well and truly done. I’d go to their dungeons, I’ll work the mines, serve however long they need me to. As long as I got in touch with someone who could actually help me. I’d spend forever in a cell and do whatever they wanted. It was probably safer for me than to let me roam free. For fucks sake, I’d been on my own for literally about an hour max and I’d already given myself brain damage. Reversible brain damage, I hoped.
The silhouette of a guardsman in the doorway made me hope I’d see a familiar face in Gregor or even Bennett, but it was someone I hadn’t met before. Someone who hadn’t gotten the memo about me I’d guessed by the non-hostile grimace on his face.
“Ugh, what the hells happened to you man? Drunk already?” He came forward and steadied me making me flinch even though he grabbed my shoulder. I looked up at him and had trouble focusing my eyes on one spot. I tried getting my tongue untied but I only got a few words out in a mumbled mess.
“There were…so…so many…” I said. Not even caring I failed to get my message across as the guard made the most reasonable assumption about me.
“Right.” He said slowly as he took me firmly by the shoulder and led me towards the guard station. “How about we get you a place to rest. How’s that sound?”
Before I knew it, I was inside the station. A few guards playing a card game of some kind in one corner. The back wall was lined with floor to ceiling bars with four different cells segmented evenly inside. All of which were empty.
With practiced ease the guard steered me towards an open cell. Getting me inside and sitting on the stone bench inside in record time. With a clang of metal, the cell door shut and I was alone. As alone as I could be in a cell in clear view of four guards.
“Hmph.” One guard grunted. Shuffling his hand. Not even looking up from his cards. “That didn’t take long.”
Somewhere in the universe, the evil god that controlled irony was laughing at me. I’d started the day desperately running for my freedom and ended it by willingly walking into a cell.
I was too tired to think straight. I didn’t even remember making a decision to lie down on the bench until my head was lying on the stone. My arms were still tucked against my chest like I was holding an invisible teddy bear. One moment I was awake. The next nothing but the dreamless black of oblivion.