When I awoke, a thousand little stars burst in a shower of magma hot white. They seared my shriveled stomach and the blank black back of my eyelids. I would have cried out, but I could not (think) to. It would be another moment before I became aware, and as soon as I became aware, the hurt became a distant fuzzy memory.

I was in a cramped room, the walls of which hung loosely around me like a cone. (Leather felt), I realized, and painted in garish colors that strained my eyes. The remains of a fire rich with the smell of (burnt herbs) smoldered beside me, and I began to notice the small objects that littered the tent's floor.

One by one, the trinkets took form within in my mind, and I recognized (knife) and (bowl) and sopping (sheep bladder). I looked down at my (hands), my naked (legs) and (feet), and nodded slowly. Because I was (here). I could not remember where I had come from, but here was assuredly somewhere else.

A dazzle of light assaulted my eyes as the leather flap of the tent was pulled back. Because it was (morning), and the (woman) had returned home. She stiffened at the sight of me, and I puzzled over the strangeness of her dress.

Her skin shone like burnished bronze, and poked out naked in half a dozen places beneath the wavy tapestry that covered her. At a glance the robe looked torn, but the missing pieces of fabric had clearly been cut out, revealing circular blots of exposed skin.

The (young) woman let out a foul cry. Her face contorted as though in pain. She lunged for the knife that rested beside me, and I understood. Because she was (scared) and wanted to use the knife on me.

The words came unbidden to my mouth as she snatched up the serrated blade, and with them came a flood of unfocused memories.

"Put that down," I said with a wave of my hand. I rose to my feet as the woman's hands slipped loose of her wrists and fell onto the floor.

I puzzled over this as the woman began to shriek. There was no blood, but still she collapsed onto her knees and writhed over the lonely stumps of her arms.

"Hmm," I intoned as I stroked my smooth chin. Had it been the words? Or the unconscious thought?

And so I thought to myself, [Stop that noise], and the young woman continued to weep.

"Stop that noise," I said, and the woman fell over (dead).

I clapped my hands together and nodded. The words then, and so much more had returned. The flood of memory was still unfocused, and when I tried to summon a thread, it fled. But I had been (called) here. Perhaps by this young woman. But I had woken before she could finish her work. I had been (created) and then (summoned), but... without reason.

A (human) tightness took hold of my chest at the realization, and my knees became weak and trembled. The tent felt as though it was closing in around me, wrapping its leather cloth around the bare skin of my neck.

I burst into the morning's glow awash with sweat, swatting away the tent's flap. Because I did not know what to do. Someone should have (told me), (taught me), (commanded me), but I had woken up too soon.

A great black plume of smoke billowed into the air several vistati away. The tent stood atop a sloping hill that overlooked a vast plain dotted with river, a small enclave of forest, and a walled (city) rife with fire and the distant echo of human violence.

I looked out across it all, petrified. Because there was so much that I could do, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do.