Milo broke from the sheets, slick with a cold sweat, the flashes of dark phantom memory quickly evaporating in the stifling sunlight filtering in through the tall pain window, suffocated by the thick burgundy drapes on the stone wall above his bed. Breathing raggedly, he steadied himself. It was a dream. Horribly vivid, but a dream.<br/><br/>"Tinashe, what a horrible dream I had," he said, turning to his phantom betrothed, before realizing he was in alien territory. The yellow stone walls and spartan furnishing of the tiny room were unknown to him. They were certainly a far shot from his more accustomed lavishness of a rich family with notable gains of land and favour.<br/><br/>Twisting in his bed, he hissed as a bolt of pain flooded his senses, orbiting out from his left shoulder. Grasping at his healing wound, he felt the silk bandaging of the wound, grizzly under the bandage. What had happened to him? Where was he, and more importantly, why was he here?<br/><br/>Throwing back the sheets, he staggered to his feet, looking out the window. What he saw was equally alien. The window looked out on to a large courtyard, a good fifty yards across on both ends. Spattered throughout was a small pond, and a cluster of conifer trees with the flat-leafed deciduous trees rippling through the prickly evergreens. The cone-bearing trees were alien in Egryon, which saw summer-time weather all year round. He had seen them once on a trip far to the north, but he was a young child then.<br/><br/>It was a very jarring moment, and he stumbled, grabbing the small bedside table for support, the bell knocking over, ringing an impossible pitch, magically enhanced for his caretakers. Sweat dripping off his nose, he slumped back to his bed, leaning against his knees as he tried to piece together the muddled memory of what had happened.<br/><br/>A fire, Tinashe, and water. It was all he remembered of the events six days prior. He couldn't piece together anything more than that. A horrible sense of dread swept over him as the realization that he may in fact be a prisoner occurred to him. "Is anyone there?" he called in a feeble voice, a far cry from his former proud, forceful timber he had with anyone other than his dear Tinashe.