In the depths of unconsciousness, Aleck's mind swirled with dark, fragmented dreams. Visions of bloodthirsty wolves and haunting shadows raced through his thoughts, weaving together with broken memories—his wife, his daughter, their faces flickering in and out, calling out to him, urging him to keep going, to survive. But the images were warped, slipping away as if made of smoke, vanishing the moment he tried to hold onto them.
He couldn't tell if it was real or just the cruel tricks of his mind. Was this a dream, or had his reality dissolved into these nightmares?
Suddenly, Aleck gasped. His lungs filled with air as if he had surfaced from deep water. His heart hammered in his chest as he opened his eyes, his body feeling both heavy and numb. His leg, which had been throbbing with searing pain the last time he was conscious, now felt oddly dull, the agony replaced by a muted sense of discomfort.
The first thing Aleck noticed was the bandages—they wrapped tightly around his leg, made of a material he didn't recognize, but somehow he knew it had saved him from whatever death had loomed over him in the forest. His body still felt weak, but he was alive. That much he knew.
Aleck blinked several times, trying to adjust his vision to the dim light around him. The room, or whatever space he was in, was far too large, far larger than any room he had ever been in. The ceiling stretched impossibly high above him, the walls carved from massive slabs of stone. It was then that he realized where he was—among giants. The proportions of the room were built for beings far larger than humans.
He attempted to sit up, but his head swam with dizziness, and his limbs felt like they weighed a ton. Just as he was struggling to steady himself, his eyes caught movement—a figure towering over him.
A giantess, her massive hands carefully preparing something that looked like medicine. The sight of her should have filled Aleck with fear, but his body was too drained to register it fully. He managed to croak out a question, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Where... am I?"
The giantess, who had clearly noticed him stirring, turned to look at him. Her expression was unreadable, but her lips moved, forming words that made no sense to Aleck.
"**$##$% $##$$...., &$&&….?" she said, her voice deep but strangely soothing.
Aleck blinked in confusion, trying to process what she had said. It was no language he understood, just garbled sounds. He attempted to respond, but as soon as he spoke, he could see from her face that she didn't understand him either. The realization hit him—they didn't speak the same language?
But that didn't make sense. The Saintess and the others in Arkellith had been able to communicate with him just fine. So why here, among the giants, did he suddenly face a language barrier?
Aleck's confusion deepened, but there was no way to express it. He pointed to his head, trying to communicate his inability to understand, hoping the giantess would get the message. He pointed at his mouth, then back at her, shaking his head in frustration. She must think I've lost my mind, he thought, feeling the helplessness creep in.
The giantess—Lora, though Aleck didn't know her name—seemed to grasp at least part of his distress. She frowned slightly, then called out in a deep, resounding voice.
"Bruce! Brruce, come here!" she said, urgency in her tone.
In the next room, Bruce heard Lora's call and hurried over, stepping through the doorway with long, powerful strides.
"What happened?" he asked, his deep voice filling the large room.
Lora gestured toward Aleck, who was now propped weakly on the slab, his face still pale but conscious. "I think this kid's lost his memory from the accident. Poor thing doesn't understand a word we're saying, and judging from the way he's acting, he can't make sense of what he's saying either."
Bruce's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "What? Lost his memory? You must be kidding me, Lora." His gaze shifted to Aleck, who sat there looking as bewildered as Bruce felt.
Lora shrugged, wiping her hands on a cloth. "That's what it seems like to me. He might be in shock, or he could have hit his head. Either way, it's out of my hands now."
Bruce scratched his chin thoughtfully, his brow furrowing in concern. "What do we do now?"
"We'll take him to the town chief, and let him decide," Lora said firmly. "Better to let him handle this before we make any assumptions."
A short while later, inside the central hall of Marakad, Bruce stood before Trent, the town chief, a middle-aged giant with a sharp, calculating gaze. Trent sat behind a massive stone table, his hands folded as he listened to Bruce explain the situation.
Aleck stood beside Bruce, his head still reeling from the confusion. He couldn't understand what was being said, but the weight of the conversation made him uneasy.
Bruce finished explaining how he had found Aleck in the forest, unconscious and near death, and mentioned Lora's belief that the boy had lost his memory.
Trent remained silent for a long moment, his eyes studying Aleck carefully. Then, after a brief pause, he spoke. His voice was firm, though not unkind.
"I see," Trent said, leaning back in his chair. "For now, take him with you, Bruce. He can accompany your son for the time being. I'm sure you and your wife, Nita, wouldn't mind an extra mouth to feed."
Bruce hesitated. The idea of bringing a stranger into his home wasn't ideal, especially one they knew so little about. But Trent's word was law in the town, and Bruce respected the chief's wisdom.
"Alright, if that's your decision," Bruce agreed, though uncertainty still gnawed at him.
As they walked through the bustling streets of Marakad, Aleck felt increasingly disconnected from everything around him. The town was overwhelming—the size, the noise, the giants who loomed over him like walking mountains. He had no idea what his fate was, but he followed Bruce in silence, unsure of what else to do. The language barrier left him helpless, and for now, silence seemed like the best course of action.
When they finally reached Bruce's home, a large stone building nestled into the mountainside, Aleck felt a sense of momentary relief. At least here, in this giant's house, he would have a place to rest.
Bruce's wife, Nita, met them at the door. Her expression shifted from surprise to sympathy as Bruce explained what had happened, recounting the same story he had told to Trent but in even more detail. She listened intently, her eyes occasionally drifting to Aleck, who stood quietly in the corner.
Nita sighed softly when Bruce finished. "Well, if the chief says so, we'll take care of him," she said, her voice gentle. "Poor boy. He looks like he's been through hell. We'll give him food, rest, and whatever help we can until he regains his memory."
Aleck stood there, oblivious to most of what was being said, but he could feel the kindness in Nita's tone. That alone gave him some comfort. As much as he felt lost in this strange world, it seemed that, for now, he was in the care of people who wouldn't harm him.
And for Aleck, that was enough.