Chapter Three - Part One

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Chapter Three: Confrontations - Part One 

Blurry light formed within the darkness. Cloudy, indistinct shapes gave way to a scene that Evan Goodheart did not recognise.

A warped wooden table was in front of him, next to a large, gold-rimmed chest. A stubby candle lit the area with a dull, flickering light, keeping most of the area in darkness. The cobwebbed rock walls were pitted and pocked with shadows. It took Evan a hazy moment to recall that he was in a cave.

He tried to move his numb arms, but they were restrained. He forced himself to fight through his weariness and to focus. He was up against a rocky pillar, hands over his head and tied by a thick frayed rope that was scratching his wrists.

A moment of fear arose as he struggled against the restraints, feeling helpless and vulnerable. A sharp pain came to his head, and he recalled being struck in the temple. A shadow had come alive and attacked him. His left eye stung and felt puffy, and his skin felt tight on the side of his face–dried blood, he guessed.

How had he got himself in this situation?

Evan's memory came back to him in a jumble of images. He had been with James Island and Sam Hawkings, taking refuge from an approaching sandstorm. They had eaten and spoken a little, and Evan remembered the sounds of the crackling fire as sleep eventually took him.

There was something else, also.

Rolling fields in the sunshine, a bright cream sky, a warm homely sensation. No... a sound. A cry in the darkness. That was it.

A call had carried through the cave and awoken him. The echoes of a stuttering roar rang through Evan's mind. An echo from the past. He would never forget that sound, the cry of the great Hogg Beast.

When Evan's parents had been taken prisoner by their invading forces, it was a Hogg Beast that had guarded his parents' cage. The giant creature, a tusked bear-creature the size of a tall building, roared back at Evan through the years.

That same cry had come from deep within the tunnels. At the time, Evan was sure it was the same beast. Now though, he didn't know what to believe. Was it possible for the beast to be on this planet also, far away from Evan's homeworld?

He could not see his sword anywhere. The fear of losing it again quickened his heart, but he told himself to be sure-minded and optimistic. Whoever or whatever had imprisoned him would have the sword nearby somewhere. He would retrieve it once free. The sword would do him no good with his hands tied, anyway.

He searched the candle-lit area in an attempt to find a way to free himself. Empty glass vials littered the table in front of him, along with several dull coins and an ancient-looking flaky scroll. What appeared to be charred bone fragments were scattered over the yellow pages of a book.

Thick spider webbing by the table legs brought to mind the hut of Elder Cenasure. After Evan's homeland had been taken, his people had sought refuge among a neighbouring tribe. The old elapor had performed the ritual that sent Evan on his spiritual trials–which had begun his journey to find James Island–on a warped table like this one. Cenasure had used finger-bones as part of the ritual. Strange that Evan would see such items here, as if someone had conducted a similar ritual in these caves.

Flashes of him falling through a vortex of red mist, sunbursts flaring all around, came back to Evan. His transportation across the galaxy remained a vivid memory. Why he had been sent to meet James Island, only the gods and their infinite wisdom could say.

He struggled against his restraints again but only served to tighten the rope against his sore wrists.

A defeated, solemn whimper left his lips. Evan longed to be back with his parents. Back to a simpler time, when they lived in peace. His intense yearning for the past caused his stinging temple to throb and weariness took over him.

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