The ceiling swirled overhead when he opened his eyes, before coming back into focus. He realised there was a bandage in his upper arm, and another one on his leg. For some reason, a vague sense of self-loathing came over him. He saw himself, a child, repeatedly falling off a bicycle, and finally giving up completely. He saw two older hands waving around wildly, before collapsing in despair. He saw a pair of figures walk away as he lay whimpering in the dirt, his sword held limply in one hand. He saw the world swim before his eyes as he collapsed in the middle of what looked like a wreckage heap, too tired to go on. The intense hatred inside him exploded, and he picked up his bed and tossed it against the nearest wall. The door opened, and a person entered the room. He didn't pause his rampage, instead leaping onto the incoming figure as a substitute. His eyes seemed to glow green as the blanket of red settled over him yet again.
*******************
When he awoke, he tried sitting up, only to realise he was securely trussed to the bed. He loudly gave voice to his feelings, shaking the room. Anger buoyed him. A voice nearby spoke.
"Sorry we hadta do that, Tyren. Raun woulda been dead by now if we hadn't pulled ya off him and tied ya down. I mean, you two were never really friends, but what was with that?! He's now officially labelled you a menace and wants ya outta here. What's happened, anyway? Ya go off, disappear for a few years, then next thing we know, Swatch finds ya lying on the ground, unconscious and pretty badly injured, in the middle of Wall Market. You shoulda seen him when he came back, hauling your carcass on one shoulder and hefting that hunk of metal ya call a sword on the other!"
The voice laughed, and Tyren turned his head in its direction. The person behind it was oddly familiar, with untamed brown hair and blue eyes that seemed to be laughing at everything they saw. Tyren frowned as the meaningless noises punctured his brain, the familiar rage building up in him, and the person laughed again.
"Now that's a familiar expression, if I ever saw one. What's wrong now? Ya look like you don't even recognise me."
Tyren's fury escalated at his inability to comprehend the sounds, and he let out a frustrated growl, straining at his bonds. The person stared back into his eyes, and surprise registered on his features.
"You really got no idea, do ya? It's Bent. B…E…N…T."
When he got no response beyond a reddening of the eyes, he continued.
"I dunno how much ya remember, but I rescued you from the train graveyard just beyond Sector 7, with Raun, Swatch and Dala. And damn, you were heavy too. Not to mention that so-called sword of yours. I'll never know how Swatch managed to lug ya back on his own. S'prolly one of them miracle things, like where someone gets extraordinary strength, eh?. Anyway, I'll bring up your dinner later, ok?"
Tyren, his anger now uncontrollable, strained against his bonds as he thrashed about on the bed. Inhuman sounds issued from his mouth. Bent inched towards the door, before making a hasty exit.
"What happened to him?"