His hands flew to his chest, clutching at himself tightly. He was expecting to feel blood gushing out at any moment. But there was nothing.
A bandage was wrapped around his bare chest. He gasped for air. His eyes wild open, scanning the room in a panic. His heart was pounding and sweat poured down his face.
"It wasn't real. It's not real. It wasn't.... real." He whispered trying to calm down.
He clapped a palm to his forehead, trying to steady his breathing. The bandages were wrapped tight but not uncontrollably around his chest, shoulders and forehead.
Everything hurt. His felt a sharp headache. He winced and layed back down. The pain was so severe. The bed beneath him was soft. It was too soft infact but it was comfortable.
For a moment, he almost closed his eyes, almost letting himself drift back to sleep.
Then he froze.
"Wait. I'm on a bed?" he remembered all that had happened and how he was taken from the arena. His eyes shot open. He launched himself off the mattress, stumbling backward, fists raised in a clumsy fighting stance.
"Haii…!" He spun around, scanning for threats. But there was no one. He was alone. And the room....., Damn. Ben's mouth fell open. The room was huge.
It had massive stone walls stretched up to a vaulted ceiling painted with frescoes of winged creatures and burning crystals. Thick tapestries hung from the walls, embroidered with golden threads. A chandelier made of what looked like actual fire floated above him, flickering gently.
And the bed he'd just leapt off of was easily three times the size of his back bon Earth. It was draped in silk sheets.
This wasn't a room. This was,
Ben gasped. A palace? A castle?
He stumbled toward the window, his legs still shaky. He gripped the stone sill and looked out. He wasn't in the arena anymore. Below him stretched an entire city. Spires of white stone and gold rose into the sky, connected by bridges that seemed to float in midair.
Gardens bloome between the buildings, and in the distance, waterfalls cascaded upward. It was beautiful. The sky was a brilliant. It was clear and blue. No sickly green or blood-red sun. It was all unimaginable beauty.
"Where the hell am I?" He asked, rhetorically.
He stepped back from the window. "System," he called out in a whisper. "Hey! You there?"
There was no answer. He remembered his dream and a slight ounce of panic crawled over him. He shivered.
"Come on…. don't do this to me now."
Still nothing.
Ben tapped his head and then his chest. Then he tapped his arms like he was trying to turn on a radio. It felt ridiculous. He looked ridiculous. He laughed despite himself. "How do I even….what do I do?"
He started moving around the room, waving his arms. "Psst!" he hissed. "It's not funny. Hey, System. Hey. Buddy? Pal?"
He did a little hop. Then, without really thinking about it, he started flapping his arms again. The chicken dance.
"Come on, it worked last time. Are you mad at me?"
Creak!
The door opened. Ben froze mid-flap, one leg raised, arms bent at an awkward angle. A man stepped inside. And Ben was…amused. The man was beautiful. That was the only word to describe him.
He was tall, with sharp, angular features and eyes that shifted between blue and green like the surface of the ocean. His beard was neatly trimmed, his posture regal and he had a short dark hair.
Two small horns curved elegantly from his temples, gleaming like polished gold. And on his head was a crown. But not a normal crown. It was made of fire. It was actual flames, flickering and dancing on his head, but never burning. They framed his face like a halo.
Ben's brain short-circuited. "Oh my go..," he almost said.
Then he caught himself. 'Right. I was kidnapped. I'm literally in danger. Focus Ben.'
He thought about what to do, then he threw his fists up in what he hoped looked like a threatening fight stance.
The man stopped. He looked at Ben and laughed. It wasn't mocking. It sounded warm. Almost... delightful. The man closed the door behind him and walked slowly toward Ben, and relaxed a hand on his shoulder.
Ben flinched.
"I must say," he said, his voice smooth and rich, "I was quite surprised to see you perform our traditional Blood Reaping ceremonial dance."
Ben blinked. "Huh?" He thought.
"The movements you were just doing," the man continued, gesturing vaguely at Ben's arms. "It's an ancient ritual. Passed down through the generations and centuries. It's very sacred."
He stopped, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.
"I'm Ailwin, the king of Eryndor. What's your name?"
No response came from Ben.
"And how did you know of it? Are you from here, by chance?"
Ben just stared at the man, his fist still raised. He didn't know what to say. The system wasn't answering his calls, and he had no backup plan.
And he knew himself well enough to know that if he opened his mouth right now, he'd say something really stupid. Something that would probably get him killed. So he said nothing.
The man studied him for a moment and then smiled faintly.
"Well, I suppose you're not," he said. "After all, you're look like a human."
He reached out and poked Ben lightly on the forehead while stroking his beards. Ben knocked his hand away.
The man's hand shot out and grabbed Ben's wrist just in time. It was firm and strong.
"Let go." Ben yelled, trying to yank his arm free. "Let go!"
The man released him. Ben stumbled backward, clutching his wrist. The man's smile widened.
"So you do talk, huh? Intriguing."
He clasped his hands behind his back, circling Ben slowly like a predator sizing up a prey.
"The first human to ever walk into our world," he mused and stopped. "How did you get here? Who brought you? What do you want?"
Ben's mouth opened. Then he closed it. It opened again, but no words came out.
His legs were shaking. He tried to stop them, but failed. He wanted to look brave, but he couldn't because he was terrified.
The man leaned closer, and as he did, the flames of his crown burned brighter and his eyes turned red. Ben flinched, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Please," he thought desperately. "Please, if anyone's listening, system, God, anyone at all, just help me. Just this once."
Then, he felt something cool settle over his shoulders. He gasped and shot his eyes open. The man had draped his coat over Ben's trembling frame.
Ben stared at him. He was stunned. The man was already walking toward the door, his movements was calm, like royalty.
Just before he reached the door, he paused, turned his head slightly, glancing back at Ben.
And smiled. "Relax," he said softly. "I'm just like you."
And then, for just a split second, the horns vanished. The crown flickered out. The sharp and otherworldly features softened and disappeared. Revealing what looked, human?
'He was... human?' Ben wanted to gasp loudly.
The king was completely and utterly human. Just then, just as quickly, the transformation reversed. The horns returned. The fire crown blazed and so did his other features. The king was back to himself.
Ben's heart stopped. The man turned fully toward the door and opened it.
"Walk with me," he said. "There's something I must show you."