My slumber is gone with the sound of two voices.
"So, Pheros. You say that you found this whelp in the treasure room?"
"Indeed. Unconscious and laid over a chest."
My eyes slowly adjust to the dark room. Two figures stand just out of eyesight.
I try to move. Chains and shackles hold me to an upright board of wood. The last thing I remember...the party? Yeah. Got drunk. Can't remember much after the drinking contest.
Ah, my parents would be so ashamed. Their son has somehow found himself in a medieval torture room.
"Ah! It appears as if our little prisoner is awake!"
My mouth tries and fails to make words.
The figures step into the light. One of them is dressed in robes, the other in light armor. Armored one appears to be a woman, judging by the hair.
What is also clear is that they are right out of some fantasy novel or something.
"Well, Excellus. I leave you to your work," the armored woman says before walking out.
This Excellus person...
I've never heard the name before.
But now this robed...man, I think, is humming. He lights a candle and now his face is illuminated.
He looks at me and grins.
"Well, well. They say you were in the treasure room. Naughty, naughty. And dear, dear Pheros asked me to find out if you know anything about Say'ri's little band of rebels," Excellus says, pulling out a book with a yellow cover.
"...Where am I?" My voice is weak and raspy.
"Really? You don't know, thief? Well, right now you are in Fort Steiger. But very shortly, you will be in your own personal hell."
Torture.
I don't know how, but somehow I made my way into some fantasy realm. And now I am about to be tortured for information that I don't know.
"Do you know what this is?"
Excellus holds up the yellow book. By the light of the single candle, I can see that there is a sort of star design on the cover.
"No." It's a very nice looking book, I'll give him that.
Excellus grins at me. "Well, whelp, this right here is an Arcthunder tome. More powerful than both Thunder and Elthunder. And right here, right now, I'm going to pour all of its energy into your body. If it's only for a short time, it won't kill you."
"But I never heard that before." My voice is no longer so weak, but it is still quite raspy.
"You look like a tough guy. But I've got bad news for you. There is no one coming to rescue you. When you die, it's game over."
I'm silent. He takes my silence as me being intimidated. Which I kind of am. "Starting to feel a little scared? Good. Let's get started."
He grabs one of my shackles with his hand. The other hand holds the book. Yellow runes and sigils appear in midair around him.
Pain shoots through my body.
When I was eleven, I broke my arm falling out of an apple tree I had climbed. That was the worst pain I had ever felt until now.
I'm going to die.
I'm not going to live.
I will never see Becky again. Or Mark. Or even that asshole Tyler.
This is the reality that greets me.
Then, at the point where I am about to die, the constant pain stops.
Above is is the sound of people running, metal clanging against metal.
"It would seem as if there are other matters I need to attend to," Excellus says. "Sit tight, plebeian." He laughs as he walks out the door.
Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny.
I can't do anything.
The sounds of what I can only assume to be a battle slowly fade out. I am left in silence, and almost darkness. If it wasn't for this lone candle, scraping away constantly against the dark, I would be in complete and total darkness.
Okay. So. Time to think about what happened at the party and why it might have led to me ending up in a torture room.
First I arrive. The term party is sort of loose, because it's technically a weekly get together between our group of friends. Mark hosted this one.
Next comes the games. I consider myself decent at video games, but this guy David is probably the best of our group.
Anyway, someone proposes a drinking game. Beers come out. We play more games, and then get more drunk.
...And I can't remember anything after Mark pulled out the 64.
So how in the hell did I end up in the treasure room of a medieval fort? And why?
Two voices in the distance. Both male. I close my eyes and try to focus on what they are saying.
"...Geez, the tactician seems more in charge of the army than the Exalt."
"The Exalt cannot take on everything. Someone must be in charge of the army, and it's definitely not going to be Vaike."
"You've got a point there, Frederick."
A man clad in blue armor throws open the door and steps inside. He takes note of me and turns to the other man, who stands just outside.
"Fetch a healer. Preferably Lissa, but anyone who can use a stave half-decently will do."
The other man jogs off.
The blue-armor clad man finds the keys to my shackles hanging on the wall. And then he frees me. He catches me as I sort of slump over and begins carrying me out of the torture room.
"T-thank you," I mutter. My eyesight fades in and out, but I can see his nod.
My consciousness fades. Is this the end?
No. It won't be. I have to live. I have to get back to the future. Back to my home.
I will survive.
I am not going to die.
I am not going to die.
I am not going to die!
The tactician looked at the unconscious, half-dead man Frederick and Stahl had found in the torture room. Messy brown hair. Strange clothes. Burn scars covered his body.
"We'll have to bring him along, I suppose," the tactician said. "Doesn't look like any Chon'sin or one of the Valmese."
"Is that wise?"
"I'm not sure. I only know that he's as good as dead if we leave him."
"Well, it's your call...Robin."