Darkness - Short fantasy story (Part 3)

in The Ink Well4 years ago

Dungeons, yes. Now I knew that clearly, though I could not still clearly recognize the surroundings. However, my senses were returning to their normal state. I felt something like the smell of spring for moments and then the nasty smell of the swamp and then nothing again.

Consciousness episodes lasted longer and longer now, and the pain itself became a kind of companion to all of this, whatever it was. It did not become less powerful or exhausting, but kept telling me that I was still alive - by some miracle. And the hours, days, and weeks I spent in the nothingness that darkness brought me became more and more strange. There I was and ever more aware than ever before. Strange sensations, an even stranger place. It always seemed to me that just before that darkness completely overwhelmed me to hear a distant, unfamiliar voice in an equally unfamiliar language. In one of those moments, the period of life when those creatures attacked and killed all the members of my caravan except me came back to my mind.

The last thing I remember were those claws or swords their glare before my eyes. Blood that covered the entire field of view. I fell, and then every glimmer of consciousness breaks.

I woke up, who knows how many days later, on a wooden floor covered with straw. At first I heard a sniff of a horse, and then, little by little, when I came to consciousness, I realized that I was in some big vagon, in one of the spaces intended for horses, while moving somewhere, some winding road. My lips were thirsty, and the stubborn blood on my face still bothered me to see clearly even though I felt neither nausea nor dizziness. The pain existed, spread over the entire surface of the face, and moved unusually in some extremely unknown and unnatural patterns. Through the part of the vagon fence I was in, I saw only the sky. Blue and endless skies, with no trace of clouds or any mark to help me navigate in which direction. Even the sun hid from my gaze somewhere, though it was quite clear that the day was still young.

I sat so surrounded by the horse noises, leaning against some worn oak planks from which the bulkheads were built, and waited. Occasionally I would hear some jolt of people outside or some distant voices, but no one came near this horse-drawn vagon. I wondered on several occasions if the people running this caravan even knew I was here. I felt better and better with each passing hour, but I still couldn't imagine how many days had passed since that terrible night.

I soon learned that the people in charge of the horses still knew I was there. Two days after I woke up, we were constantly going down that weird, winding road without stopping. And then, one night, we stopped. I heard the hustle and bustle of camp work. The sounds of the ax, the hammers were too loud so I could clearly hear the voices issuing orders. Shortly after the sounds of the tool went silent, some strange music was heard, accompanied by female voices. I heard footsteps approaching the car I was in. The door opened and I saw a shadow of a huge man standing at the entrance. The light of torches and fire was behind his back so I could not discern any detail either on his face or on the faces of his companions.

'' Oh see the little one, he woke up. Come on, guys, let's get him a little outside. Just be careful, we don't want to hurt him any more anyway, I don't know how the man is alive at all'' said the man, who was obscured by the fire's light in a bear's voice, but without any trace of violence or hostility in his voice.

Then two much younger guys came in and helped me get up and get out of the car.

'' Water..please .. '' I said in a strange, tired voice that, I am sure, was not mine.

They took me to a nearby barrel of water, which stood not far from the vagon. They helped me wash and drink a few sips of water. That big man followed us, and when I got a little refreshed he led me to a small fire, telling the boys to go away and return to their usual duties. There was no one there, just above the fire was a small boiler where something was being cooked. My gut immediately let me know that I hadn't eaten for days. We sat down and then he took out two wooden bowls and spoons from his backpack, and served us a stew that was crunching above the fire. Even today, I'm not sure how much time has passed since the attack until the day I ate for his fire, but it was the best meal I've ever tasted. As we finished eating he turned to me and in the light of the fire I could see his face. The chosen face of the warrior, and the eyes of the warrior, in the clothing of the priest. I was completely caught by the scene before me. Friendship and peace radiated from him in a very unusual way, and I was sure that I was safe. I don't even know how it's possible, but it was.

'' Look, the guy we found you in, I don't know how you survived. I helped with the wounds on my face, but I'm afraid my balms are not as effective as I had hoped. You can stay with us for as long as it takes. Do you remember what happened? '' He said mildly, as if talking to a child.

And so, I told him a story.


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