Drip... Drip...
At first, the sound was just a distant intrusion, like a water clock marking time in the void. A drop of water, ice-cold and relentless, crashed onto stone with mathematical precision. Each impact echoed in the empty cathedral of my skull like a heavy hammer striking an anvil. The pain wasn't in one place—it was everywhere, a dull vibration that shook me down to the roots of my teeth.
I tried to move, but my limbs felt like they'd been poured into quick-drying concrete. My eyelids, glued shut by sleep and maybe dried blood, weighed a ton. It took enormous willpower just to think about lifting them.
"Hey... hey..."
The sound that came from my throat horrified me. It wasn't a human voice. It was a rasp, like rusty hinges creaking, a rough breath that escaped my cracked lips and vanished instantly into thick, moving darkness.
Where am I?
The darkness wasn't just an absence of light—it was physical. It pressed against my skin, heavy and suffocating, like a shroud of black velvet. I felt panic rising, not as a rational thought, but as a tide of burning acid in my chest, making my heart beat wildly.
How much time had passed? Hours? Days? Centuries? Even the concept of time seemed to have dissolved in this sticky humidity.
"Who are you?" I said with effort that cost me what little energy I had left.
The words stumbled in my sticky mouth. The emptiness of my memory made my head spin, like falling endlessly through nothing. How did I end up here? No matter how hard I searched the corners of my mind, I found only white walls—smooth, impenetrable. No answers. Just emptiness.
So many questions crashed together in a silent mental pileup. I tried to focus my eyes, forcing them to adjust to the darkness. The cave slowly took shape, vast and threatening. The air was saturated with water, carrying the smells of wet earth, mold, and ancient stone—cold and mineral. Yet despite the oppressive gloom, the atmosphere didn't feel hostile. There was a strange serenity here, almost supernatural... a sanctuary-like calm that violently contrasted with the screaming chaos inside me.
Bzzzzzt... Click!
An electric crackle, like a giant insect frying on a lamp, made me jump violently. Suddenly, a harsh blue light burst from neon tubes hastily attached to the rocky walls. My pupils contracted painfully against this assault of light.
In that artificial, flickering glow, a silhouette appeared, casting a long, distorted shadow on the uneven ground. A man walked toward me.
He didn't walk like a soldier or a doctor, but with the heaviness of someone carrying the world on his shoulders. His face, carved by the harsh neon light, looked like a ravaged landscape. It was an open book of a life full of troubles. I saw deep wrinkles cutting into the corners of his eyes, invisible scars marking his tanned skin, the permanent marks of fierce struggles and battles I could only imagine. Yet when I met his gray eyes, I felt no threat. Instead, an immense peace, a quiet authority came from them.
He crouched down to my level, his joints cracking slightly, and his voice—low, deep, and smooth—calmed the high-pitched ringing in my ears.
"I'm Kenis, the leader of the Loclel mini-citadel. I don't want to hurt you. You can relax... I come as a friend."
The word "friend" sounded strange in this place. I wanted to pull back, an animal survival instinct, but a sharp burst of pain shot through my limbs, starting from my spine and exploding into my extremities. My body was one massive scream of pain. Every muscle, every joint felt crushed, kneaded, then rejected. I was trapped between these four rock walls, in this unknown place that smelled stale and electric.
Fear pounded at my temples like a panicked bird, but exhaustion was stronger, heavier. I had no choice but to give him the benefit of the doubt. I took a deep breath, swallowing the taste of dust at the back of my throat, and gathered my strength to ask the only question that really mattered.
"Who am I... and why am I here?"
Kenis tilted his head slightly, compassion softening his hardened features.
"One of my guard patrols brought you back. They found you unconscious, lying north of Laf Kinb's territory."
"Laf Kinb?" I repeated slowly.
The name slid off my tongue, foreign, tasteless, awakening no echo, no memory.
"Who is that? Is it a place? A person?"
Kenis froze. A flash of genuine surprise crossed his eyes, and he pulled back slightly to study me better.
"You mean you don't remember what you were doing there... or who you were with?"
At that exact moment, triggered by his question, lightning tore through the cotton fog of my mind.
Wham!
A violent, raw image forced itself on me with the force of a punch. It wasn't a fluid memory, but a chaotic fragment. I heard the metallic sound of heavy boots striking the ground, the brutal rustling of fabric. And that scream. The piercing scream of a young woman. I saw her, for a split second, fighting desperately while soldiers in dark uniforms grabbed her brutally. They dragged her toward some kind of fortified complex, a headquarters with gray, threatening walls rising against a stormy sky.
And then... nothing. Blackness. Dead silence, as if someone had cut the film.
Frustration flooded through me, hot and stinging, burning my eyes. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.
"I don't know anyone!" I spat out, my voice shaking with anger and bottomless distress. "Why are you trying to torture my mind? I don't know anything!"
Kenis raised his hands, palms open, in a calming gesture.
"No, calm down. The opposite. I'm trying to help you remember who you are, where you were... and especially what you were doing so close to the gates of the Spenked Empire's general."
"The Spenked Empire? What is that exactly?"
The word "Empire" echoed against the cave walls, cold, sharp, carrying an implicit threat. Kenis sighed deeply, a sound that seemed to come from deep in his chest. He placed a reassuring but firm hand on the edge of my makeshift bed.
"Forget it for now. It's too early. Your thoughts are still too confused, your mind is a battlefield. First, try to remember what you were doing there. That's what matters most."
He stood up slowly, towering over my miserable bed with his height.
"Your body needs to rebuild itself. I have to go back up. I have a citadel to run and mouths to feed. You need rest. That's an order, not a suggestion."
He turned around. The sound of his footsteps—Cloc... Cloc... Cloc...—stretched down the tunnel, a rhythmic, lonely echo that faded as he disappeared into the mountain's depths. I listened to him leave until silence fell again, heavy as a lead shroud. The cave, which had seemed like a refuge for a moment thanks to his presence, became an oppressive prison again. I was alone. Terribly alone.
I let myself fall back on the pillow, staring at the uneven rocky ceiling.
Suddenly, a sound rose from outside, rushing into the cave's opening like an invisible threat. It wasn't an ordinary birdsong like I might imagine. It was a shrill, mechanical, frightening racket.
Krrr-ik! Krrr-ik!
The noise sounded like claws scratching on metal, mixed with off-key alarm siren whistles. I easily imagined these creatures up there, floating in the sky of this unknown world. Did they have steel feathers? Iron beaks? This wild noise scraped at my peace, installing a dull anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Even nature here seemed to be at war.
I shivered and pulled the rough blanket up to my chin, seeking warmth in this cold world.
That's when a smell rose from the coarse wool fabric.
I froze. It wasn't the smell of mold or ozone. It was a subtle scent, almost out of place here. A smell of dried hay, freshly cut grass, and earth warmed by a summer sun at its peak. This simple, rustic, powerful smell acted on my brain like a key turning in a rusty lock.
My eyelids closed on their own, and the gray stone disappeared. The darkness faded to reveal a golden, blinding light.
Pop.
I was no longer a wounded man in a rock hole. I was no longer in pain.
I stood upright, my feet anchored in the packed earth of a modest farm courtyard. The wooden walls were worn smooth by time, warm. Above me, the sky was an impossibly pure blue, with no metal birds, no gray clouds. The air vibrated with serenity and the lazy buzzing of bees.
It was my wedding.
The truth hit me with the softness of a caress. Before me stood a woman. I didn't know her name, but my heart recognized her. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a simple, true beauty. She wore a white lace dress, without unnecessary frills, but it fell on her shoulders with divine perfection. Her eyes plunged into mine with burning intensity, a mixture of absolute love and total trust.
I felt my lips move. I heard myself whisper promises to her, my voice clear and confident echoing in the warm air:
"I promise to take care of you. Until the end. I will never leave you, not even for five minutes. Never."
It was a sacred vow, spoken with the gravity of those who love for eternity.
Then I leaned forward and kissed her.
The touch of her lips was an explosion of life. Around us, the world burst into a symphony of joy. The farmers, our neighbors, our friends—they were all there. I saw their radiant faces, their honest smiles. They applauded wildly, their calloused hands striking together in the warm sound of celebration. We were happy. We were together. We were invincible.
Wham!
The return to reality was like a brutal fall into a frozen lake.
The memory shattered instantly, throwing me back against the dripping walls of the cave. The transition was physical torture. I opened my eyes again, my heart pounding against my ribs, my breath short. My cheeks were wet. A tear, warm and salty, had fallen without me noticing.
That woman... her face was burned behind my eyes like a brand, but her name remained prisoner in the fog of my amnesia. Where was she? Was she waiting for me? Was she the one I'd seen being captured?
The sadness that filled me then was more unbearable than the pain of my broken bones. This memory wasn't a comfort—it was an open wound, an amputation of the soul. I couldn't stay here. Questions weren't enough anymore. I needed answers. Now.
Ignoring the groaning protests of my joints and the burning pain in my chest, I swung my legs off the bed. I grimaced, every movement a battle against the paralysis threatening to swallow me.
I picked up my t-shirt from the floor. It was dirty, the side torn, fibers hanging pitifully. As I pulled it on with feverish, trembling movements, I saw my skin marked by trials, covered with bruises turning yellow and purple.
I stood up. The world swayed for a moment, but I held steady. I put one foot in front of the other, stumbling, my hand pressing against the cold, damp wall to keep from collapsing. The rough rock under my palm was my only support.
Each step toward the exit was an ordeal, a test of pure willpower. I moved toward the harsh, white, milky light that marked the end of the tunnel, the end of the cave. Wind rushed into the passage, making the torn edges of my shirt flutter, bringing with it smells of metal and smoke.
I finally reached the threshold. My fingers gripped a rocky ledge. I lifted my eyes, ready to face this world that had broken me.
And there, my eyes widened, my breath caught completely in my throat. What I saw then went beyond anything I could have imagined...
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