Drip!
Water dripped from the ceiling, down to my face. I woke up with a terrible sting on my shoulder.
I had been in a similar situation before, but this time the ceiling was made of rock. And instead of a door, there were metal bars.
Is this some sort of prison?
Never thought I'd miss that boat of all things.
I groaned as I tried to move: I couldn't. I lay on a black crystal floor covered with soft fabric.
"Looks like he's awake."
Someone was there in the next cell. It was dark and pyres burned. I couldn't see his face but his voice sounded younger than mine.
As more and more of my senses came back, the pain increased, and gradually I could hear the pyre's burning and distant murmurs.
With some more moans and groans, I tried to sit up. My body was mummified; the bandages were everywhere with the exception of my face. To no one's surprise I was missing a precious thing; an arm. My fuzzy memories came back to haunt me.
