I would appreciate a review. Do it for Dark Link!
The first thing he remembered was coldness, freezing feeling against his skin that caused him physical pain. Before he opened his eyes, before he took his first breath, before he started thinking clearly, his entire world was cold.
He started to become more aware to his surroundings, the solid feeling against his body and source of the coldness; he opened his eyes to meet a black marble floor. His eyesight was blurry, like rheum was sticking his long lashes together, and the sense of control over his body slowly returned to him. His mind restarted and he finally made the connection, he was naked on the floor, and he couldn't remember why. In fact, he couldn't remember anything.
"Raise," a thundering voice hit his ear drum, pounding in his head. He immediately, instinctively obeyed, pushing his hands against the floor, supporting himself with four limbs, then recalling what he must do in order to stand on his feet. He looked up to see a stairway, and a throne on top of it. A man was sitting up there, with flaming red hair, and the same ginger shade colored his facial hair as well. He had little time to examine the man before his voice echoed in the hall again.
"Don't dare to look me in the eye, servant." The man ordered, and he shifted his gaze to the ground. "Kneel before your master." he obeyed once more.
When he lowered his gaze, he noticed something he had missed before; he was chained, manacles holding his legs, around his ankles. "Do you see these chains?" the man spoke again, his voice sent chills down his spine, "you are bound to me, even when you can't see them, you are always under my control." He stated, and he watched the chains fade into a gray smoke. He could still feel their weight though.
"I dub you 'Dark' for the darkness will be your alley, and the dark lord you serve." He felt so uncomfortable in his nudity, humiliated by the situation, his rage made him trembled weakly. But he knew he had no choice but to obey. "Now you'll be shown to your room. Your training begins tomorrow."
He followed an anthropomorphic lizard, heavily armed, its dandruff seemed to blend so perfectly into the scale armor, A Dinolfos, he later recalled the name. The lizard threw a dirty blanket at him, and he covered himself as they walked through the dim castle, making their way down and deeper into the dungeons, the chill was stinging through the rough fabric, the air seemed to stand still and reek. His escort opened a squeaking iron door and motioned him to walk in, closing the door behind him as he entered the chamber. He heard a locking sound behind him.
Describing it as a room demanded a generous amount of imagination and optimistic view upon life, it was a prison cell; a thin, filthy mattress was lying in the floor corner, various types of manacles were hanging from the wall and there wasn't even the slightest opening, complete darkness. His eyes got used to the lack of light in merely a few seconds, his sight was as good as it was in day light, and the blackness gave him a comfortable feeling, familiar and comforting. He found a pile of dark colored fabric, it was once gray and once shaped as clothing, but time and usage had taken their tool over it, and it seemed like nothing more than a duster now. He preferred it on being naked, though.
He dressed up examining his body, it was lithe and lean, an impressive amount of agility but it seemed to lack strength, when they walked across the corridors he noticed he was far smaller than the Dinolfos. He looked for some reflective object, something that would show him how he looked like, he couldn't remember what his face was like, but the chamber was empty and he ceased looking. He sat on the poor mattress, and raised both of his hands to his face, feeling it, reading the outlines with his blind fingers; his bone structure was sharp, full of angles and edges, a firm jaw and slightly slanted eyes, his ears were pointed. And he was bold.
He leaned against the wall, hugging his legs and pressing his chest closer to them, preserving his body temperature; he slowed his breathing, decreased his heart beat, and sat completely motionless, reducing his vital signs to minimum, he mused.
Who was he?
What purpose does his living serves?
Who was that red haired man?
Many other questions popped in his head, and very little answers he had come up with. But patience was a virtue, he remembered, so he waited in the dark for the door to be opened, and for the answers to come. For a certain reason he was confident he had much time to figure it all out, more time than he wished he had, eternal time, to learn again all about this life.