Nothing. He felt nothing but a cold, wet sensation around his whole body. Sternon could not move his hands or feet, feeling a crushing weight against his chest.
[What happened?. . .]
[Where am I?. . .]
"Please. . . Help. . ." He tried to cry out, but he couldn't expel a single word from his lips.
[Why can't I move?. . .]
[Why can't I break free?. . .]
[. . . I'm so weak. . .]
The heaviness of his thoughts and environment led him to feeling more and more encumbered.
[I guess. . . I'm trapped forever. . .]
[I'm sorry, everyone. . .]
But was that the truth? Was he truly unable to change his current scenario?
In a flash of his life, Sternon remembered who he cherished most.
[Viktor. . . Astrid. . . Trey. . . Gauss. . .]
He recalled how each of their faces look, how each of their faces changed with age, with emotions. Sternon felt their frustration with him at points, but their love afterwards.
[No, I can't give up. . .]
He focused his energy on his legs, then into his core, where physical power dwelled.
[I'm the only medicine maker left there, and without me. . .]
Sternon's prison began to loosen as he writhed his legs with all the power he had, continuously squirming for twenty minutes with the only thoughts on his mind being his duty and his family.
[I have to come home, there's no other option! For everybody's sake! Viktor! Gauss! Trey! Astrid, wait for me!]
His legs were finally loose enough to go from wiggling to kicking. Sternon's snare was breaking apart with each strike from the strength of his femurs and his sheer will, as well as the instinct to escape until he pushed his body against his fate.
On top of his kicks came punches, clawing, and digging, desperation towards the exit he could feel merely inches away. Sternon abandoned all fear for the moment and focused singularly on his survival, becoming only an animal vying for its life.
Another twenty minutes pass. Sternon did not feel his stamina drain or his breath flicker; he just gnawed and gashed with every ounce of his soul, and with an abrupt motion, his freedom was granted.
Light passed into Sternon's prison, revealing itself an earthen tomb, with him trapped under several layers of dirt, mud, and spewing floral. He crawled out of the ground, covered with the scraps of the clothes he wore the day before and caked-on mire.
All around him was a sprawling mass of imposing trees and a singular gravel path, which he immediately took to following, unaware of whether this path would take him to his village or someplace far darker.
But where else was he to go?
The rough ground crunched under his worn-down boots as he looked around at the impressive forest. From the fruitful fungal moss on rotting logs to the flowers that bloomed towards the ends of the branches of all the trees; it was grandiose.
It was the first time Sternon had seen such a sight since he was little, as he had been intensely studying as a medicine maker since he was nineteen.
He walked off the path briefly to approach the fungal mold, then took a knee and grabbed some of it.
[It looks a lot like snot, but surprisingly it's good for clearing sinuses.] Sternon thought to himself before pocketing it for later.
He stepped onto the path once more and continued to travel along, seeing deer and their doe pass along the forest in peaceful bliss until they spotted Sternon and quickly dashed away. This didn't alarm him since they most likely hadn't seen a human before.
[And besides, animals don't really like me anyway.]
This thought made Sternon a little sad because animals are cute.
He continued to see more of the native creatures and plant life; it was a sanctuary untouched by man, except for this single path that would eventually lead him toward a pond with a decrepit board on the tree nailed onto it.
[A sign?]
Sternon approached, leaned forward, and gazed upon the words that lay on it.
[To all that wander this forest, treat this place with as much respect as a graveyard and temple, for this is the resting place of the village Betony.]
Sternon stumbled back, shocked at what he read.
What happened to Betony?
"What happened to my village?!-"
He yelled out with desperation, but the voice that left his body was not his own.
The voice was jagged and rough, deep and dry, like a husk.
[Wait, that isn't what I sound like. . .]
Sternon placed his hands to his face as he turned his head over to the pond,
[This is a nightmare. . . You are dreaming. . . Everything is fine. . .The stress must have gotten to me after those nights of studying again. . . That's it-!]
He removed his hands from his face and looked at himself in the pond. The reflection was not his face or anybody he recognized; in fact, there was no face.
"How is this possible?"
It was possible.
"I could feel my skin. . ."
All in his head.
"So that's what happened. . ."
What happened?
"Everyone. . ."
"Died."
Sternon stared into the crevices of his skull, remembering that past day.