As the man fell asleep, Tony sat down at his table with a cup of coffee to ponder the man’s strange behavior.
* * * * * * * * * *
He stares up at the sky, soaking in each star and every constellation. They are foreign. A voice sounds, but no words are formed. It is a scream; a long, loud, wail to the cold, merciless night. He bows his head down low and squeezes his eyes shut, clenching His fists so hard that blood trickles over His fingertips and dries, leaving a black stain on His knuckles.
Then it hits Him. A scene, slamming into His mind for hardly a second.
But a second is all He needs.
The scene shows Him, with His hands tied behind His back. His friend, Reles, stands in a nearby doorway with his head hung low. An unfamiliar man in royal garb, possibly a king, balls his hands into fists.
“I don’t want to do this, Farlough. But you leave me no choice,” says the king.
The Man grits His teeth. “Let it be, my king.”
The king reaches over to a wall and pulls a lever. The stone in front of the Man shimmers into a deep purple mist, reaching out with violet dust, threatening to pull anybody in that moves too close.
“Go in, Farlough.”
“Yes, sire.” The Man gets up, His hands still tied, and takes a step forward.
Suddenly, His world transforms. His mind swims into darkness and He lands hard on the ground, blacking out.
* * * * * * * * * *
Tony stared at the man lying on the ground. He had been there for over an hour, first screaming to the stars, then falling to the grass.
The man stirred. Tony nearly jumped out of his socks.
“Unnngh . . . no . . . My king . . . why would you do this to me?” he moaned. “I was the best! NO! I could have done so much! WHY?” He jumped up and grabbed Tony by the shirt collar, drawing back his fist to strike.
Tony instinctively pushed the other man away. "Calm down! I’m not a king,” he said.
The man let his arms hang limp his sides. His face softened. He dropped to his knees on the ground in front of Tony, and started sobbing.
“I’m so sorry . . . so sorry I couldn’t stay . . . Reles . . . I’m so sorry . . .” Tears streaked down his cheeks.
Tony was frozen in place. “Sir, are you okay?”
The man stopped crying for a moment. “Farlough. I am Farlough. Who are you?”
“I’m Tony. Why did you leave the house? I can take you to a hospital, if you want.”
“Hospital. What’s a hospital?”
“Uh . . . It’s a place where doctors can attend to you and stuff like that. Or, if you would prefer an insane asylum -”
“I’m not unhealthy. I’m just fine. Why would I need to go see a doctor?”
Tony was really worried now. “Well, for one, you have amnesia -”
“Whatever that is.”
“- and the doctors can help you get your memory back.”
Farlough glared at Tony. “No they can’t. Doctors are powerless to stop sickness.”
Tony sighed. “Well, at least come back into the house.”
Farlough looked at the one-story building with obvious disgust. “That’s a house?”
**********
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