The strange man sat up and leaned against the wall and closed his eyes as if the regain his composure, Ashton still gawked, not saying anything. Then he reached forward and touched the man, seeing if he was real. “You are awake!” Ashton said, astonished, but delighted. The man opened his eyes to look at Ashton and Ashton’s face lit up in a broad smile.

“You are alive!” Ashton exclaimed and then he sang a short verse,

Though time be dead and on your head

And death be near and full of fear

Despite the odds and all the pain

You stand alive, with all to gain

Ashton spoke quickly to him, “It is good to have you moving and talking, I thought you would die from lack of food. Now eat, eat, slowly of course”. He handed him a loaf of bread he had kept, “You have been asleep for a very long time and I thought you would not wake up. You must be very hungry, though. Eat, eat, you must eat.”

There was not much energy in the man, but he looked at Ashton suspiciously and didn’t move. “Come, you must eat! You are very weak, you have been asleep for a long time!”

“I’m asleep right now, though.” The man said stubbornly. He wouldn’t eat.

“No, you are awake! You were asleep in sickness, but you must believe me that this is the real world.”

The man replied angrily, “Silence! I’m dreaming, I am asleep! If I am awake then why am I still here, trapped in this nightmare? First, I dream of some terrible demon and his sorcery then illusions of madness and then I get beaton! It’s simply a nightmare. Another nightmare, like I have always had. It can only be a nightmare! I will wake up soon and will be back in my Father’s house. This is madness, just madness. Will this never end!?” He slumped over, exhausted.

Ashton paid the man’s rant no mind, but, forcing bread into his hands, said “even if you are dreaming you must eat.” The man looked at the bread, then snatched it up and took a bite. He ate the whole thing, but Ashton still looked on him with concern. “I see what the problem is,” he said to himself, “he has a sickness of the mind, a terrible one at that. The horror must have damaged him!”

After the man had eaten, Ashton spoke again, “I do not know what to say to assure you that you are awake. What does it mean to be awake? Here you eat and sleep and drink and feel pain and happiness, if you can. Does that mean you are awake? I do not know for all those can probably be felt in a dream. But you cannot be certain right? It might be best to treat everything as reality until you are certain. Now look, I have been able to give you water, so you should not have to worry about that, but there will be no water for you now, you will have to make do without it. Water will come again later when before the lanterns dim. “

The man looked up, “the lanterns?”

“Yes,” Ashton said, pointing out the nearest one next to the wagon. He felt it was a good sign that the man was talking. “These cases with light in them. The light grows and fades on what seems to be at regular times. I do not know how they work or understand them; there is no fire in them. It is some sorcery no doubt, but it is very convenient to have. These people here have powers beyond what I could have imagined. No wonder they simply take what they please!”

The man said nothing, but finished another loaf in silence, looking at the lantern. Ashton asked him, “How are you feeling now? Perhaps you are well rested after such a nice sleep?” He tried to bring some amusement to the setting, but the atmosphere squashed it. His words sounded dull and grey.

The man answered slowly, “Don’t fool with me, I have no interest in joining you in this facade. How can you ask such things here? My wrists and ankles hurt, as does my side. And I am exhausted, despite the long sleep you say I had. I do not feel like it I slept at all.”

“You must not go to sleep yet again. You must rouse yourself to help in the healing. The iron will not come off I am afraid. I have tried already. You were very sick.” He looked at the man, though, and saw a pain in his eyes.

“Come now friend,” Ashton said. “Tell me where you are from and how you got here. Your looks and clothing are strange to me, stranger than everything else here. But perhaps it is all normal to you, I have never once left my village before. Did you get taken from your home as well?”

The man didn’t answer, but sat against the wall staring away from Ashton, looking at the fire and the caravan. After moment, the red man added, “Where are we?”

Ashton replied, “I cannot say, we left the lands that I knew long ago. But the wilderness is very large, I have heard it said. I would have never believed it was this large though. We have traveled countless walks since I was captured, and if I did not know better, I would say we were simply traveling in circles. We keep moving, but we never get anywhere!”

The man nodded as if he understood what Ashton said and spoke aloud to himself, “We are still in Feresuil then; we have not traveled to another territory.” He looked at Ashton then and spoke directly to him, “Feresuil is the name of this land, what you call the wilderness I believe. It is very large, as you have said. You could probably walk for a year and never see the end. Drfuil was a mighty god, his works would be equally mighty.” He suddenly looked confused and his thoughts again distanced themselves. He looked off in the distance. “How do I know that?” He whispered.

Ashton did not understand what he was saying. He asked another question, “I would like to ask, why is it that you have iron shackles instead of these bonds of sorcery like I have? Is it something you know? The soldiers here appear to depend heavily on their sorcery; it would be helpful if we could find a way to overcome that.”

The man didn’t answer at first. He paused and looked at his hands as if trying to remember. When he did speak, it was slowly. “After they had captured me, they tried to put some kind of spell on me, similar to your chains I believe. They spoke with words of power, but their words did not have a hold on me. It is because of this ring I believe.” he held up something on his chest but Ashton could not see it, “this ring…” the man repeated. He looked lost again. He shook his head and said, “It was a gift from my Father, but Drfuil took it, didn’t he? How dare he, he reformed it, setting his curse on it and then locked it on me. I’m not sure anymore. I’m not sure of anything. I’m so confused.” He slumped and whispered to himself, “What did he do to me? Who am I, and what have I become?”

“My friend,” Ashton started again, “your confusion is understandable; you have just woken up from a long unnatural sleep. Do not let your dark dreams disturb you! Forget them and concentrate on the present. You are here now, with me, and you are alive. Come now and keeping talking to me, this will help you recall who you are, we need to exercise and warm up your mind!”

The man looked as if to stubbornly refuse to acknowledge Ashton’s words but then asked bluntly, “Who are you?”

“Good, very good,” Aston answered, “I should have introduced myself earlier. I am Ashton, son of Oberion. I have been taking care of you for a long time in this cage. I was captured some time ago, twenty of these lantern dimmings by my count! I have feared that you wouldn’t wake up; you were very sick. Now, can you tell me who you are? Can you remember?”

The man repeated slowly, “What I remember…” he looked away again, recalling memories, “I remember a large field, filled with plants and animals. I also remember tall mountains that I once walked in and traveled but are no more now. I remember a great river that flowed unceasingly toward its end. I also remember a city, huge and towering. I remember years passing by like seconds and the whole world changing around me. I remember a great joy, and sorrow as well. But I also remember a little boy alone and afraid. I remember my father, how he scolded me and my Mother too, her soft embrace. Who are these people? How are they connected to me? But I see now, I do not understand. I remember being amazed, because we had opened that door. Yes, Yes, that great door. The greed of the magicians pushed us to open it, but when we did it seemed we had stepped into a fantastical tale. We were mistaken about what we were looking for in the ruins though, blast them, it wasn’t what we thought it would be!”

Drake’s face contorted miserably and he choked back a sob, “We made a terrible mistake, and it is my fault! Oh, Kresnuel-sama, what have I done, they are all dead but me!I told them to open the door. But it was a prison, not a treasure! It can’t my fault though, can it! How could we be expected to heed the signs we could not understand? That Drfuil, how could he do this to me? How dare he, try to influence me, a son of the house of Fendell? But he forced into me his memories, seeking to control me.” The man started to panic, his eyes were wild and his voice had grown loud. “Will it work? How can I ignore something inside of me, memories in amounts greater than my own? Like a growing seedling sprouting? I do not know, I do not know, I feel lost! I can barely recall who I am, surely, I will lose myself soon. Madness, Madness! I cannot even recall my own name, I have been imprisoned for eons, I-.”

SLAP! Ashton hit the man on the cheek hard. The man was stunned and saw Ashton’s kind face in front of him. Ashton slowly reached up and and gently grabbed his face with both hands and said strongly, “Stop talking, brother! I told you, stop lingering on your dreams; they will only seek to confuse you! Keep your mind here on me; I will not lose you to your wild fantasies. I need you here, don’t go to far off places without me! I do not want to be alone again!”

The man withdrew, angry tears on his cheeks, but didn’t say anything. He glared at Ashton as Ashton dropped his hands back to his lap and he rubbed his cheek where he was hit. A fire was in his eyes, and Ashton was glad to see some life had returned to him. After a moment, the man said, “Your lessons are harsh Ashton, but effective, thank you. But know this, I am Drake, the son of Lord Aftalla, and I have never suffered such humiliation. I swear, if you ever hit me like that again I will kill you!”

But Ashton laughed; and it was a strange sound to be heard in the caravan. It didn’t travel far among the inmates and wagons; it was a joyful sound that did not fit. “Good, good I see you have come back. Forget your dark deceits; you said your name was Drake son of Aftalla? Do not forget it again, or maybe engrave upon your hand. It is strange name, but I like it. It sounds hopeful. Now talk to me, and tell me, where are you from?”

Drake was still frowning; bitterness had crept into him. He answered, “I am from a different world, probably very far from here. Only a little bit ago, I used to be a young master, but look at me now! Curse Drfuil, it doesn’t look like I can return again soon.”

“Oh, so you were kidnapped too. But you mustn’t say that, Drake,” Ashton chastised. “You shouldn’t give up on hope, not when there are friends around you and air to breath. Look, you are wearing shackles instead of spells, and haven’t you said that their spells don’t work on you? There is hope in that. If we can figure out how to negate their spells, we might be able to break free. And who knows where this beast of a caravan will take us? Probably to death and madness, but it also might not. Humans cannot see the end, so you shouldn’t pretend you can. Don’t lose hope in returning home, for no other motivation will free you. Recall your home; may your desire to return to it keep you strong!”

Ashton’s words seemed to irritate Drake, but he could not deny what the man said. He replied, “You speak oddly, even for a plebeian, Ashton. Here we are in this slave wagon, but yet you speak of hope! I do not know. You will have to hope for both of us Ashton, for I cannot. Keep your hope to yourself! I will have determination, instead. And anger. I feel it inside of me even now. Time hasn’t cooled it, I don’t believe it will ever cool. Drfuil took me from my home and people and now thinks he can command me? Curse him a thousand times! I refuse to bow to him! I am from the house of Foenell, I will make him pay; he tried to give me his power and a strong will, but he only succeeded partway. His failure will be costly, I swear will use his strength against him. How I hate him!”

Ashton looked at Drake and saw that he was filled with a silent wrath. He asked him, “I am surprised that you speak my village's language, Drake. Where do you come from that you learned our speech?”

Drake only grunted in response at first and then replied, “The ring allows me to communicate. I have no language barriers.”

Ashton tried to absorb what he said, but spoke instead, “I do not pretend to know what is right or wrong, nor do I know of the Drfuil you speak. But we will see in the end whether your vengeance will be ill or not. I see strength in your eyes, and I believe that my best hope of release will be with you. May we find companionship together! But escape does not look to be anytime soon, unless your magic ring can break your shackles along with spells. Do not worry; there will be lots of time for escape planning later. For now, I am glad to have somebody to talk to. They divided the prisoners into cages with people who do not know each other's language, and so they couldn’t communicate with each other. I am glad to see that you speak my tongue. I feel I would soon have turned into one of them if not for somebody to speak to.” He gestured towards the other prisoners sprawled across the cage.

“What happened to them?” Drake asked. His anger was gone now and he seemed small and shrunken from sickness and hunger. He noticed the other inmates them for the first time and he looked startled to see them so.

“I do not know.” Ashton answered. “I am also simply afraid of them. I have asked the same question, was it the sheer time alone in here without anybody to talk to that made them thus? Or was it something far worse, a force of magic that dulled their minds? Either way, they have not said a word or done anything other than eat sleep drink and relieve themselves. They are in a worse state than animals. I would rather be dead than end up like they are. How I pity them. But they cannot be helped, I have tried.” While they were discussing the other prisoners, they suddenly rose in clamor and banged on the side of the cage. Drake was startled and he fell over, but Ashton laughed at him. “It is simply time for the water to be passed around. How they sense the approach of the soldier I do not know, but they are a sure sign of it.” Still laughing, Ashton helped Drake into a sitting position again because Drake was still weak and tired.

The water made it to the pair, and Ashton demonstrated its unlimited supply. Drake was keenly interested in it, but the guards kept a close eye on him, and took the container soon after he drank. After they took it from him, Drake commented to Ashton, “So that was their sorcery. I would have liked to have inspected it more. How can they use such artifacts so carelessly? Who are these people and where are they taking us? They do not even treat me with the dignity deserve, do they not know the ransom my father would pay? They do not even try to converse with me and I do not recognize their sigils.” He clenched his fingers in and out.

Ashton didn’t respond, and there was silence for a bit. Drake still stared out but now gazed upon the world. He looked at the wagons and trains and people running around. “This is real, isn’t it?” he asked sadly. Nobody answered him.

Ashton was sitting down. The excitement of Drake’s awakening had fallen away, and now he respected Drake’s need to come to grips with reality. He felt sorrow for the man, and sorrow again for himself. He sang slowly,

The world was new and grey and bright

all was beautiful in his sight

He walked the land and life arose

The plants and trees and all that grows

He built the lands between his hands

and formed the sky where birds could fly

Time was still and life was bliss

Before the world became amiss

“You sing well,” Drake said, turning to Ashton, “When we return to my country I will offer place you with our court minstrels. But what is that you sing?”

“It was an old song from my village.” Ashton replied, wondering what a minstrel was. “Not very popular and not well known. Well, that was only a part of it. It is much longer, you see. But it speaks of happier times when the world was said to have been less cruel. My father and the elders say that such words and songs are foolishness; they distract from the present and fill the heart with dangerous thoughts. Perhaps they are right, but the song lingers on. I like to sing it when I can. I don’t think such a time actually existed, but it is nice to think about, no? In any case, it is just a song.” After another moment Ashton added softly. “Actually, it was the last song I heard Father sing.”

Drake listened to what Ashton had said, but hadn’t really paid attention. He said after a bit, “I don’t know Ashton; it seems I spoke too quickly. I do not see us getting out of here anytime soon. Whatever advantage my ring gave me was overcome with these irons. Look at all the people out there. How can we hope to overcome that? Escape from this cage is unlikely enough; escape from these people even more so.”

“Do not lose hope,” Ashton answered without looking up, “We are still alive, and we have each other.”

“Hope for what, though?” Drake asked. Ashton did not reply. Just at that time the lanterns started dimming. His question was left in the darkness, along with everything else.