The weight of the nightmare still clung to him, thick and suffocating. He sat up, gripping the
rough blanket that was used to cover him, trying to steady his breathing.
The dream- no the nightmare-felt too vivid, too real
Wait something was wrong
He closed his eyes trying to recall the nightmare, but there was a weight in his chest, a hole in his
heart. A feeling he couldn't explain.
He had a nightmare
something that made his skin crawl
But no matter how many times he tries, he couldn't recall a single detail.
He eyes finally adjusted to the dimlight, scanning the room. It was small, barely more than a cell.
A wooden table sat against the far wall, empty except for a cracked clay cup. A single window
which was on the left side of the bed he laid on. A single door stood at the opposite end, its
surface worn and splintered.
Wait where am I?
He didn't remember coming here at all. Infact he was unable to recall anything at all.
Taking a slow breath, he forced himself to stand. His muscles ached as though he hadn't moved
in days. He braced himself against the wall, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
His bare feet met the cold stone floor as he took a tentative step forward. Then another.
He reached the door, hesitating. He wasn't sure what lay beyond it, but staying in this room
wasn't an option.
The door creaked open
His body reacted before his mind could muscles tensing, heart pounding. He had no reason to be
afraid, but the instinct was there, deep and primal.
An old man stepped inside, a lantern in hand. His face was lined with age and worry. Beside him,
a girl-perhaps in her late teens-watched himcautiously, her dark eyes filled with something he
couldn't quite name. Fear? Curiosity?
The man lifted the lantern slightly casting ore light into the room. "You're awake," he said, his
voice was calm but firm.
He swallowed, forcing himself to stay still.
"You've been asleep for two days," the old man continued. "We weren't sure if you'd wake up."
His mouth was dry. He forced himself to speak.
"...Who are you?"
The old man exhaled, stepping further inside.
"My name is Elias. This is my daughter, Lira. We live in a village not far from here"
Lira hesitating before adding, "We don't know how you got there. You were just…lying in the
forest. Bleeding. Like you fell from the sky."
He stared at them. The words made no sense yet they felt just right in a way he couldn't explain.
As if a part of him had fallen As if he had been turn from something much greater.
"Do you know your name?" Elias asked
His breath caught.
A simple question.
A simple answer.
But nothing came.
He stared at them, heart pounding, as the terrifying truth settled in.
He didn't know his name.
He didn't know anything.
Elias, sighed. "Rest," he said.
"You've been through something terrible. For now just focus on healing."
Lira hesitated but eventually followed her father out.
The door closed behind them, leaving himalone in the dimly lit room.
His mind was empty.
The fear was still there, curling deep inside him.
Not because he had forgotten.
But because something inside whispered that maybe-just maybe-it was better that way.