He took a few more steps and realized his feet were bare. The cold cut into them. "Think! What am I doing in this place?" After that question came another one, surprising, a knot twisting in his gut.
"Who am I?"
He had a sudden, sinking realization. He could not recall his name, what he was doing before he got here nor of the events that led to him being in the place he was in. He felt sick, his breathing was taut, his mouth open. He realized he had lost the ability to speak. "Calm down!" Panicking would not serve him in this situation.
"You have lost today because both mind and body are weak. Do not be afraid to be weak. Weakness does not lessen the man if he learns from it. It is through mastery of fears and weaknesses that a warrior is made. A sword becomes stronger in the forge, when it folds inward, unto itself."
He took deliberate, deep breaths, slowing the beating of his heart down. He continued to walk around, his feet numb from the cold. He got down on the floor and started feeling for something he could use. Discarded pieces of armor, leather breeches, and what felt like a tunic. He felt around carefully, lest he pick up a blade edge-first. He seemed to have an exceptional grasp of weaponry. He could identify pieces of armor by touch alone. He knew exactly what each part did, the condition they were in, whether they were serviceable or not.
He found what he was looking for a few steps away. A pair of sandals that fit well. He placed them on his feet and heaved a sigh of relief. The pain from the cold subsided. He rummaged around, hoping now for something that could be used as a light source.
He found what he was looking for a little further away. Flint, steel and char-cloth that could be used for sparking a fire. A discarded torch lay conveniently next to it, presumably for the purpose of being lit. He took the flint and steel and began to strike, slowly and carefully. Getting the bits of tinder to fall on the char-cloth was a difficult task in the dark. Once he was certain bits of flint were on the cloth, he blew gently and saw the glow of his first fire. He heaved a sigh of relief. "Now let's hope the torch works." He took the smouldering char-cloth and draped it over the torch and stopped breathing.
A flash of light, as the torch came to life, illuminating his dark world for the first time. Shadows danced around his flickering light source as he tried to make out his surroundings. The first thing he noticed were the bodies. The floor was strewn with what appeared to be hundreds of bodies. It explained why he had such easy access to serviceable equipment.
Tears came to the boy's eyes. "You must be able to look death in the eye without flinching. You are here because you have lost everything. Your parents, your homeland, yourself. There is nothing that binds you to this world. When you have nothing to lose, death has no power over you."