Survival in a Strange World

Chapter 6: The Illager's Tower

Blue found himself in a circular wooden room patterned with dark and milky colour. Through a narrow archway to his left, a small gathering of armoured men stood under a canopy in the night. He could see they were chatting amongst themselves but the words were lost in the blockade of rain. Two carried lanterns, the others were armed with crossbows and one of them carried a banner strapped to his back.

Blue considered trying to sneak out that way. But would he be completely camouflaged by the rain and darkness? He feared that even with the rain, one step outside and they'd spot him. Denouncing that idea, he studied the rest of the room. It was piled high with hay bales and barrels, probably full of food and other supplies. Several hanging lanterns illuminated the room. Opposite the archway was a stone staircase curving around the wall and up to the next level of wherever he was.

The thought of food being close caused his stomach to rumble. An aching pain awakening deep within and gnawing at him. He couldn't even remember the last time he ate, so he snuck behind the hay bales while he scavenged some food. Five minutes of searching later, he had claimed and consumed three baked potatoes, two carrots and a slice of melon, which was delicious. He had also loaded his pockets with as many loaves of bread as he could carry. Unfortunately he hadn't found any equipment or weapons but having a full stomach at the least was very satisfying. Hopefully it didn't make him sluggish. Blue hadn't meant to eat so much but once he took that first bite of lovely baked potato he couldn't prevent basic instinct overcoming him.

He risked a peek from behind his cover. From what he could tell the half a dozen guards hadn't moved from their post, but it did look like one of them was aiming their crossbow into the darkness for some reason. This wasn't good. The more time he wasted, the higher the chance someone would discover his escape, or the guard would come to and possibly remember what happened. But he couldn't stay tucked up behind hay bales forever. Still no sign of anyone else, well it was the middle of the night... probably.

He headed up the stone stairs with the silent grace of a jungle cat. His steps light and his eyes darting around for potential threats. The second floor of the building was stocked with barrels, chests and had all sorts of useful workstations around the room. An anvil, a stonecutter, several furnaces and a loom. However, the thing that drew his attention was lying on a crafting bench at the far side next to a stack of barrels. A glowing golden blade.

Checking once more for any guards, he snuck across the room, ducking behind barrels and chests in case anyone came in. Reaching the table he snatched the shimmering blade from the table then dived to hide behind a tower of barrels. Blue held the weapon for a moment. The grip and feel was all too familiar, similar to the comfort of curling up in his bed. It just felt right. Wait. His bed in the den. That was the dream he'd had. Snuggled up in the warmth of the fire. Safe in his den under the... under the. He gritted his teeth as he struggled to hold the threads of the memory, but he just couldn't pull the last strands of that thought from the void. The darkness in his mind that continued to hold secrets from him. Who was he? Why was he so good at fighting despite only coming to this world a couple of days ago? He shook himself. Now was not the time for this. Why did these thoughts only come to him in times of stress?

He exasperated, then peeked around the barrels and froze, hearing the sound of footsteps from above. He continued watching intently, until two pairs of boots appeared at the top of the stairs and he whipped his head back behind cover. Then the voices came.

"The progress at Faulty Mine has been excellent," said a deep emotionless voice.

"Thank you Boss. I've been making sure to push the men hard to keep on schedule and we still have a steady supply of materials coming in," replied the other man. "Another caravan is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning." Blue risked a glance around the barrels and saw the man speaking was dressed in a white coat, sporting a pair of glasses and carrying a notebook. The other man wore the same armour as the cell guard but with golden threads woven into the arms and chest. He also wore an eyepatch and walked with his hands clasped behind his back.