Abras had not expected to dig his way up through so many layers. He tried to figure how many years the layers of soil might represent. One thousand?….Five thousand? He could not be sure. When he finally came to the surface he lay still and quiet on the woodland moss, gathering his strength. It would have used his powers but he couldn't risk the beast sensing him. When he felt restored, he set off to the east. There had been a river there once and men had dwelt beside it. He'd expected to walk for a while before he came to a dwelling, but after 30 paces he was out of the woodland and standing before a very large house.
He approached the doorway cautiously. There appeared to be two doors, an inner, solid door and a outer door made of glass. "Such a door" he thought. "It must be the home of a wealthy nobleman." He looked down at his clothing. It had aged considerably, barely the thickness of a spider's web now, and covered in fresh soil. He had never had to beg before and wondered how quickly it would take to secure enough money for new clothing.
He knocked at the glass door but no one answered. To his left he could see that there were other homes, just as large and fine as this one. As he walked he could see a strange black road to his right. He went towards it, hoping to get a better sense of his surroundings. On both sides, the road was lined with large and magnificent homes, each with glass windows and glass outer doors. "A land of princes" he thought.
He tried door after door but no one would open to him. A few people opened the inner door but slammed it shut once they saw him. He was about to head back into the woods to think over a plan, when a flash of red and blue lights caught his notice. Men came from beneath the lights and began talking to him in a strange language. They took him and put him in a strange, small hold, under the blue and red lights.
What happened next he had no words for. The world blurred by, outside the glass windows of the hold. He saw nothing he knew or recognized, only strange shapes, lights and buildings. Only when he lay on a cot behind cold bars did he know something of what happened. "From beggar to prisoner." he thought, yet he still could think of no reason to risk using magic.