The Knight's Eyes

14: STRANGE HAVEN

His eyes snapped open. He strained for a large gulp of air feeling a heavy pressure below his right breast. He touched the spot only to feel the same pressure along the arm.

"Aagh," he groaned into the smothering darkness.

Cautiously, he rubbed the tough area under his bare skin. The back of his head throbbed as if he'd hung on it for a long period of time. He looked around so his eyes could adjust to the darkness. A golden hue slid into the nothingness from a curtained window across the room faintly blending with the candlelight on his left. He stiffly turned in that direction, squinting to look at the small candle.

It sat on a nightstand by the bed. Folded cloths, a red bowl, a cup, and a roll of dressings sat on top of the stand. A wooden wall took the other side of the stand, which he followed to a cracked open door where daylight was creeping in.

He cleared his dry throat, "Hello!" he crackled and cleared his throat again. "Hello," he said much louder.

"Hello."

Alsindad sharply inhaled, snapping his head to his right. He grimaced at the shriek of pain awoken by the sudden action. He blinked a few times to force his eyes to adjust faster. The other side of the room came into view. It was small, maybe for a child. One window interrupted the even horizontal pattern of wood with drawn curtains. Hooks and racks of weaponry and clothing took the majority of the room as well as a single armchair by his bed.

"Who goes there?" he said the hairs along his arms rising to an unseen presence.

He searched the room, his heart thudding in his ears, "Show yourself!"

In his right peripheral, a figure appeared from the air, sitting in the armchair. Slowly, he turned to the figure who was actually a large man cloaked in black. But was it a man? There was no way to tell for his face and hands were missing.

"You," he croaked, rising halfway on his stiff arm.

"Good morning," said a firm deep voice from where a face should be.

He growled, "You stole my peeks, you arse."

"Did I now?" said the figure letting his face unveil from the air.

Alsin took in the man's brown skin of the Bronzian and his baldhead that possessed an array of markings. Gold rings jeweled his right ear catching a shimmer from the window's light. His eyes were squinted with tensions of strictness that contorted his lips into a scold.

"Are you one of Khaal's guiders? Which way are you going to take me?"

His eyes narrowed, "How do you feel, Alsindad?"

"Huh? Of course you know my name, guider or you're a demon?"

A low growl exited the giant's throat causing his nose and half of his face to fade into the dark air. Alsin sucked in air, panic claiming his heart. "That's what you are? No paradise for me, huh? Great Gamael," he flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, risen in a triangular shape, "I've failed. And now you've let Khaal send me to Berub's Abyss. I've been good all my life. This is not where I wanted to go."

"You're not in the Abyss. You are still alive," the man grumbled with annoyance.

Relief dripped into his shivering nerves and stared wearily at the mysterious man. "Okay. I guess."

The firmness in his eyes relaxed a few minutes to suppress a smirk fighting to free itself. Then the lower half of his face disappeared and all sense of kindness in his eyes vanished. He leaned forward onto his knees. Alsin leaned away.

"You should sleep and regain your strength."

"Wait. I wanna know. What are you? Who are you? And why'd you take my peeks? Did the gods send you to seal my fate?"