When Elis woke up, the first thing he felt was the gritty texture of soil and small stones pressing against his cheek. It was nothing like the beds of his old world or the soft mattresses of the new age. It was coarse, raw, and entirely unpleasant. His head throbbed, and as he opened his eyes, he was greeted by two wrinkled faces hovering uncomfortably close to him. Their breaths commingled with the stagnant air, warm and weirdly perfumed with something foreign. Elis blinked to clear his vision. "What the...." he groggily murmured, trying to flex his arms. Too bad he had them tied behind his back. Now, at least. He couldn't move much.
"I see his eyes open, Lord!" one of the ancient-looking men exclaimed, his voice croaky but booming with enthusiasm.
No, you didn't!" the other snapped, waving a finger in front of Elis's face. "You've been blind as a bat since last winter! I saw them open first!".
Their argument escalated fast as each traded jabs about the other's failing eyesight and shaky hands. "You couldn't spot a boulder if it rolled on your foot!" one sneered.
"At least I don't stumble over my own walking stick," retorted the other one.
Elis watched all of this unfolding scene in mildly dismayed disinterest, his mind muddled, working: What is going on here? He pondered, tugging discreetly on the ties that had fastened his limbs.
The movements were cautious and studied. Elis began to hope for the best when suddenly the ground above him darkened like someone's shadow.
A large, heavy man entered view, his frame massive even by Elis's standards. His thick arms pushed the bickering elders aside with surprising ease. "Enough!" he barked, his deep voice reverberating in the quiet air.
The two old ones grumbled but stepped back a pace, their eyes narrowed at each other. The fat man, whom they called Rufus, went down on his haunches to study Elis. His eyes were hard and calculating, but the tone of his voice was softer when he spoke. "He's awake, sir. Just as you said."
A polite but cold voice came from somewhere behind Rufus. "Bring him here, Rufus.
But the two elders were not going to be outdone by that, so they shouted together, "But I was the one who saw him wake up!"
"Shut up, both of you," the voice said, and they both were quiet instantly.
Rufus grabbed Elis by the arm, his grip firm but not rough, and hoisted him to his feet. Elis stood unsteadily, his muscles still stiff from lying on the ground. He turned his head toward the source of the voice and saw an elderly man sitting on a makeshift throne carved from what looked like a large tree trunk and stones.
The man's face was lined with years of wisdom and age, but his posture was upright, and his presence was commanding. His sharp eyes, when they fell on Elis, studied Elis with intensity.
"Bring him closer," the elder said again, he said calmly.
Elis was marched forward, his bindings still intact. He met the elder's gaze, his own eyes sharp despite the dull ache in his head.
"And who might you be?" the elder asked, leaning slightly forward. "And what brings you to our sacred grounds?".
Elis straightened himself as much as he could, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "Untie me, and perhaps I'll tell you."
The elders gasped, clearly not expecting such boldness. Rufus's grip tightened slightly, but the elder raised a hand, signaling for silence.
"You have spirit," the elder said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's see if it's worth keeping alive."
In the end, Elis's thoughts were reeling like he could not quite understand the whole situation. The words from the mouth of the old man dripping with quiet authority
"Let's see if it's worth keeping alive."
Elis barely had time to think through the danger before Rufus's fist crashed into his stomach. The blow knocked the breath from his lungs, and he fell to the ground, cheek scraping against the dirt. A spasm of pain seized his ribs, but he swallowed the groan threatening to escape him, unwilling to show weakness.
He sat there for a moment, curled up in the dust, before muttering, "Fair trial? Guess that's off the table."
"Shut it," Rufus growled, grabbing Elis by the collar and hauling him to his feet like he weighed nothing. Rufus's face twisted in anger, and he landed another brutal punch, sending Elis sprawling again.
Elis coughed, spitting dirt as he lay flat on his back. His body throbbed, but his frustration burned hotter than the pain. *Come on,* he thought, trying to summon the power that had always been at his command. He clenched his fists, willing it to rise ...'just a spark, anything.' But nothing came. He felt empty, like a shell of the man he once was.
He felt as if another punch had been punched to the gut when he realized that his powers were gone, locked in this strange body. The vulnerability settled over him like a heavy shroud, more humiliating than the beating Rufus was dishing out.
Rufus again raised his fist, but this time, Elis rolled to the side barely in time to avoid the blow. His movements were slow, his hands tied, making each movement an agony. He concentrated on the ropes that were digging into his wrists, loosening them as much as possible without raising suspicion. His skin burned from the coarse fibers scraping against it, but he didn't stop.
"Stay still, you worm," Rufus snapped, grabbing him roughly and throwing him back down.
"Enough," the elder's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. It was calm, yet it carried a weight that made everyone freeze. Rufus hesitated, his fist still poised in the air, before stepping back reluctantly.
The old man leaned forward in his wooden throne, his eyes fixed intently on Elis. "You're stubborn," he said, almost with amusement. "I'll give you that. But you're in no position to defy me." He waved his fingers dismissively.
"Take him to the dungeons." His cold voice echoed in the room.
Rufus's grin spread wide as he hauled Elis by the back of his shirt, dragging him like a sack of grain. Elis bit back a wince, his mind racing. He glared at Rufus but said nothing. No point in wasting words now he was not in state to say much.
Behind them, the two elders, who were called as Fa and Fu, from earlier followed, their bickering echoing in the narrow corridor.
I told you he had fight in him!" said one triumphantly.
"You did not see anything with them beady eyes of yours," he retorted the other fellow.
"Stashen up!" roared Rufus, reprimanding them with one hard gaze.
Elis stumbled as Rufus jerked him forward, his boots scraping against uneven ground. He clenched his jaw, his eyes scanning the dimly lit corridor. Flickering shadows danced across the walls from the torches and the air was growing colder with every step.
He felt a tide of helplessness but quickly suppressed it. '
'This isn't over,' he told himself. The dungeon might be the end, or it could be a place to think a way out of here. What he needed was time and, if nothing else, the dungeon would give that to him.
As they reached the dungeon door, the elder settled back in his throne, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Let's see what secrets you're hiding, My stranger".