Quite suddenly I awoke from a dream I had already forgotten. The fire was out, the torches were dead, and I lay still. My captors, if so they were had done nothing to me.
Straightening, I searched blindly for the firewood. My hands, scrabbling found the pile and drowsily tossed them in the hearth. The ensuing shower of sparks prompted my memory!, now, already fleeting leaving me stunned. -Wait!, could the smoke be seen? Groggily attempting to move quietly past the doorway, I tripped and fell, my head landing outside the doorway, my eyes seeing nothing. For nothing was there but the sense of cold on my cheek. Stretching again and feeling the wall. I walked heavily but careful to where the stairs ought be. After what felt like a few dozen steps I found them.
Climbing clumsily yet determined, I reached the top, looking around all was dark. Behind me was a darker presence, ominous, my home. I did not see the smoke so I felt safe, already turning around to head back. Easing myself down the stairs, a cold shudder passed through my body putting my nerves on edge. Shaking off the feeling, I returned to my 'room'.
Once again at the fire's edge I lay down, letting myself drift again to sleep, with morning's light I would survey this place my fortunes had brought me to.