Soren slowly opened his eyes
His appearance was nothing short of miserable. Dried blood stained nearly every inch of his torn clothing, turning what remained of the fabric into little more than filthy rags hanging from his body. Countless cuts and bruises covered his skin, remnants of a battle that should have killed him. His dark clothes were shredded in several places, exposing patches of pale skin marred by fresh wounds and half-healed injuries. Even sitting still, he looked less like a man and more like a survivor dragged back from the edge of death through sheer stubbornness alone
The most horrific injury rested at the centre of his chest
A grotesque scar stretched across the spot where a fatal wound had once pierced him. The flesh there was freshly healed, the skin twisted and uneven, as though his body had desperately forced itself back together without caring how it looked afterwards. Red lines spread from the centre of the scar like cracks in shattered glass, making it painfully obvious that the wound had been recent
Soren didn't recognised where he was, he could barely see anything as faint light barely illuminated the room. Despite literally looking like he walked out of hell itself. surprisingly enough his body didn't scream in pain as one would have imagined, well other than where he had been stabbed of course
Soren tied to move but found his movement restricted by a thick heavy chain sealed across his waist. As he tried to move the thick chain made a heavy thud as it stopped him. Then he tried to use his magic to free himself
Nothing
Soren still in a daze, 'Where am I?'
'How did I live? I cant use my magic again for fucks sake! Did they put those mana sealing chains on me again'?
This time Soren tried to now use his detonation magic blowing up his blood but as he tried further agony exploded through his body. It felt as though a red-hot blade had been driven directly through his skull. A violent surge of pain erupted from the collar around his neck and spread throughout his entire nervous system. Every muscle in his body seized. His vision blurred. A sharp ringing filled his ears. The mana he had been gathering instantly scattered as though it had never existed
"Gh-" A strangled sound escaped his throat and instinctively, he grabbed the collar, his fingers digging into the cold metal. The pain only intensified. It felt as though something was reaching directly into his mind, crushing the very thought of casting magic before it could fully take shape
Abandoning his attempts to use magic for the moment, Soren leaned back against the cold bars of his cage and finally turned his attention toward the only other occupants of the chamber
The first was impossible to miss
A massive bald man sat several cages away, his broad frame taking up nearly half the space available to him. Dark tattoos covered his scalp, neck, and exposed arms, forming intricate patterns that disappeared beneath his tattered clothing. His skin was dark and weathered, while countless scars suggested a life spent surviving one brutal fight after another. Even seated, he looked imposing. The thick chains wrapped around his waist seemed almost comical against his enormous build, and the iron collar around his neck looked less like a restraint and more like a challenge
The man caught Soren looking and frowned
Unlike Soren, he appeared fully awake and fully aware of his situation. There was no confusion in his eyes. Only irritation
Unfortunately, the source of that irritation quickly became obvious
A few cages further down knelt a woman
She was tall for a woman, nearly as tall as many men, with long crimson-red hair cascading down her back and striking green eyes that remained fixed toward the ceiling. Even in her current situation, there was an undeniable elegance to her appearance. Her figure was slender and athletic, while her features were attractive enough to draw attention even beneath the poor lighting of the prison
What stood out most, however, was her clothing
Unlike the ragged garments worn by most prisoners, she still wore a set of white and gold battle armour. Though scratched and damaged from whatever circumstances had brought her here, it remained far more impressive than anything else in the room. Engraved upon the chest plate was a strange symbol: a sphere of light surrounded by a pair of outstretched wings
The exact same symbol hung from a necklace around her neck
A necklace she refused to let go of
Both hands were wrapped tightly around the pendant as she knelt on the floor of her cage, whispering prayer after prayer beneath her breath
"...guide me through this trial..."
Her voice trembled
"...let me continue my pilgrimage..."
The bald man's eye twitched
"Oh, for the love of-''
He slammed the back of his head against the wall behind him
"Would you shut up already?"
The woman's prayers immediately became louder
"...and may your divine light illuminate the path before me..."
"I said shut up!"
"...and may my suffering bring me closer to your grace..."
The bald man stared at her in disbelief
"You've been doing that for hours!"
"...and may this trial strengthen my faith..."
"Nobody's listening!"
"...and may the sacred light—"
The bald man let out a long, defeated groan before burying his face in his hands
To Soren's surprise, the woman didn't appear to be intentionally annoying him. If anything, she seemed completely oblivious to his existence. Her attention remained entirely focused on her prayers and the golden pendant she clutched so tightly that her knuckles had turned white
Soren let his head hang low as silence settled back into the cage. For the first time since waking, he allowed himself a moment of stillness, not to observe or analyse, but simply to exist in the aftermath of everything that had happened. Strands of brown hair fell forward, loose curls clinging to his face, matted with dried blood and sweat. His lashes were long, casting faint shadows across his cheeks as his eyes remained half-lowered, unfocused
Slowly, his mind drifted backward
Fragments surfaced first. Disconnected. Jagged
'Draven'
Then the memory sharpened quicker the massive collision of the two spells and then-
Korr
His jaw tightened
'That bastard nearly killed me! Why couldn't he have just died nicely and now thanks to that idiot I'm stuck in God knows where'
Soren tried to think back to what happened after the fight, whether Draven or Korr lived he couldn't care less now, but he needed to find out where he was. His mind raced back but the only clear memory that would form what was he briefly did after getting stabbed. The abundance of information flowing into his head as if someone was directly speaking in his ear, which he had then used to cast a spell
'That must have been how I survived, but how did I get here?'
No matter how much Soren tried to think all he remembered after that moment was simply nothing
Soren's gaze lingered on the iron collar around his neck
Only after a few seconds did he fully register what was wrong
It wasn't just him
The bald man across from him wore the same restraint, thick metal locked tightly around his throat, dull and heavy-looking even in the dim torchlight. The praying woman wore one as well, though hers was partially hidden beneath her hair and armour. Three cages. Three prisoners. Three identical restraints
Before he could think further, voices drifted in from beyond the chamber
He went still
One was old. Smooth. Confident in a way that did not belong to someone standing near armed guards
"I'm telling you, this one alone is worth the payment," the voice said, almost proudly. "Do you have any idea what I dragged in here? A Rank Two mage. Half-dead, yes, but alive. Do you understand what that means?"
A guard responded with a tired scoff
"You merchants always exaggerate"
"Exaggerate?" the old man repeated, offended. "I found him in the middle of nowhere. Practically torn apart already. If I hadn't intervened, he'd be dead in the dirt. Instead, I brought you something valuable, so hurry up and give me my damn money!''
Soren's expression didn't change
But something inside him shifted
Slowly, unnoticeably at first
Recognition
'That voice'
A memory surfaced without permission
The world had not been stable
It swayed gently, accompanied by the constant creaking of wood and the dull rhythm of wheels cutting through uneven ground. Soren's senses had been distant, as though he were observing everything through a layer of fog that refused to lift. His body felt heavy. Unresponsive. Every attempt to move sent dull waves of pain through his limbs
He forced his eyes open
The interior of a caravan came into focus slowly. Dim light filtered through thin gaps in the wooden frame, painting narrow streaks across the floorboards. The air smelled of dust, old leather, and something faintly metallic blood that had long since dried
His hands were bound
Rope cut into his wrists, tight enough that even small movements caused discomfort. He tried to flex his fingers. Weak. Unsteady. His body responded sluggishly, as if it did not fully belong to him yet
Across from him sat an old man
Neatly dressed. Calm. Almost comfortable
The merchant noticed immediately that Soren was awake
"Oh," he said lightly, as though greeting a waking traveller rather than a half-dead man bound in the back of a moving carriage. "You're still with us. Good. I was starting to think you wouldn't make it this far"
Soren tried to speak, but no sound escaped from his throat
The merchant then reached back holding a wooden bat in his hand, ''Well it's time for you to take a longer rest now. Cant have my bonus pay escaping now can I?''
And with that the old man brought the bat down hard on Soren head knocking him out again