I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

The first memory was one of utter darkness. Not the kind that comes when you close your eyes, nor the one behind your eyelids before waking—but a void so complete it felt like the very concept of light had never existed. There was no indication of his whereabouts. A scream tore from his throat, yet the void devoured its echo. What am I doing in this place?

He raised his hands to his eyes, but they remained invisible in the gloom. He understood blindness, yet he was certain this wasn't it. He had no recollection of arriving here. He sensed he was upright, yet which way was up or down eluded him. He took one step. Then another. Still nothing. Did I even move?

He stamped his feet on the ground. The surface was a mystery. His steps were soundless, but he knew he wasn't deaf. He had heard his own voice mere moments before. Another scream, yet silence reigned.

His fingers traced the contours of his face. Eyes, mouth, nose, ears—all present. He combed through his hair. It felt longer than expected, at least twice the length of his index finger. He examined his throat, then his torso. Arms, ribs, chest, spine—everything accounted for. His build was rather slim. Something was amiss as he checked further down. He examined his rear, hips, thighs. All seemed fine. Then a wave of anxiety crashed over him. In a panic, he verified the presence of the most essential part just below his belly. The one that no man could go without… Relief washed over him. It's all there.

It was then he realized he was utterly naked. Heat flushed his cheeks. What if there are others around? Would they be naked too? Wait a minute, this is the wrong thing to worry about! What if they see me and I can't see them? I should cover up somehow, but how would I do that? There's nothing here!

One thought halted his panic. He wasn't cold. Despite his nudity and the absence of sunlight, he felt warm. This wasn't the time for idle thoughts. Breathing deeply, he continued to explore his body. Past his knees were his calves, then his feet, and then—he wobbled, nearly losing his balance. What the hell was that?

When he tried to touch the ground beneath him, his fingers... continued. There was nothing there! He lifted his right foot, stomping again. Clearly, something supported him, but his probing fingers found nothing. There was no ground beneath him, yet he stood. It was as if he walked on air. He stepped back, reaching for the spot he'd just vacated. Nothing. He stepped forward. Hesitating briefly, he advanced. Despite the ground offering no assurance, he began walking. Where do I go from here? Where is everyone?

He walked for what felt like ages, trying to recall his previous whereabouts, but even his own name eluded him, casting a shadow of sadness. Though he lacked concrete memories to aid his escape, abstractions like memory and identity lingered in his mind. Lost in thought, his eyes detected a change—a hue on the horizon, or more precisely... a light!

His pace quickened, evolving into a run. As he approached the golden glow, he discerned details—a door, the source of the light. Closer inspection revealed it to be a wooden gate framed by stone, seemingly floating at knee height. Three unfamiliar symbols glowed, stirring a sense of recognition he couldn't place. He cautiously swept his foot beneath the door. Again, nothing. Wait a minute.

He glanced down, finally seeing his own form. His skin, though bathed in golden light, was strikingly pale, unmarked by scars. A glance at his abdomen suggested something was amiss, yet its nature escaped him. He surveyed his surroundings—endless darkness, save for the gate. Not much of a choice.

His hand reached for the gate, a wave of comforting warmth enveloping him instantly. The door was heavy, demanding his full strength to open it. As it yielded, an overwhelming light burst through, temporarily blinding him, yet he pressed on. Both feet crossed the threshold, fresh air filling his lungs. His eyes struggled to adjust to the new environment, and then the gate slammed shut behind him with a resounding clang.

***

As he grew accustomed to the light of the rising sun, he finally took in his surroundings. In the not-so-distant horizon stretched a long mountain range. He stood amidst a handful of trees near the hill's base, nearly half of them cut down to stumps. One bore numerous cuts atop its surface. Downhill, he spotted a cluster of small wooden huts near a forest, in dire need of maintenance. Uphill, a side of a large building loomed, its tower menacingly peering over the hill as if scrutinizing him. A wooden palisade encircled the area, stretching around the whole estate and disappearing behind the hill where his view couldn't reach. Someone rich must be living in that mansion.

Upon a second glance, he realized the gate through which he had entered was gone. Confusion mingled with relief. He had no intention of returning to that darkness, yet the notion lingered—might that gate have been an underground entrance to the mansion? He pondered silently, taking in the view.

The ground beneath him felt soft, exuding the scent of wet grass. Around him, puddles dotted the mud, and a chill seeped into his feet, yet he was untouched by the sun's warmth. It was clear that it had been raining the night before.

What the hell?

His hips were now covered in rags, modestly concealing him. Moments ago, he'd been naked. He didn't remember putting them on. While that solved one problem he had, it only deepened the mystery. What was that place? Where am I? Why am I here? And most importantly: Who am I?

"Hello?" a voice interrupted his thoughts. "Who are you?"

Approaching him up the hill was an older child, not quite an adult. The boy had black hair and wore similar rags over his hips and torso. Gripped in his hand was a rusty axe.

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"Are you a new arrival? Didn't know we were expecting any. I suppose it's been a while." He extended his hand. "Varyan. Pleased to meet you."

He instinctively accepted Varyan's hand, words eluding him.

"I- I-… I'm…" he faltered.

What do I even say here?

"Don't worry," Varyan reassured him calmly, "Most people are disoriented when they first arrive. And only a few of them are willing to talk in the first place."

The boy smiled warmly, then gestured to the stump.

"Come on, let's split some logs."

He followed Varyan to the stump, noticing a few logs beside it. Varyan set one on the stump with one hand and swung his axe with the other. The log split effortlessly. So much power!

"Damn, I hit my thumb," Varyan said.

He rushed to Varyan's side, alarmed.

"It's fine, I have the God of Life's Protection up."

He examined Varyan's hand. There were no signs of injury. What? How?

"What do they call them? Life Points, right?" Varyan asked, holding his thumb up.

What the hell is he talking about?

"You know, the Adventurers…" Varyan added.

There was an awkward silence for a second.

"You've never met an Adventurer? How did you end up here?"

Varyan appeared puzzled, scanning him from head to toe, searching his eyes for something concealed. He scrutinized his hair. An unsettling sense crept upon him, a feeling that he was supposed to know what Varyan was talking about.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked Varyan.

"Oh, so you do know Commonspeak."

Varyan's response carried a trace of surprise. He examined his eyes again before turning back to the logs, resuming the splitting.

"Nothing to worry about right now. Let's just get these downhill. The others already started preparing breakfast. Give me a hand, will you?"

He noticed Varyan's thin frame, almost unhealthily so. The outline of his ribcage was discernible beneath his skin. Yet Varyan had split those logs with ease. His demeanor seemed to shift as they silently stacked the logs onto the rags he had worn on his torso. Varyan appeared more skeptical, more cautious. What's with that look? Why would he suspect me of anything? I don't have the remotest idea of what's going on.

Together, they grasped the rags' ends, lifting the log pile. He exerted a bit of effort, while Varyan seemed unfazed by the weight. Carefully, he avoided slipping on the wet grass as they descended towards the shanty town, their unspoken questions lingering in the air. The sun emerged, gradually warming his muddied feet. For the time being, he decided to stick to Varyan, avoiding drawing attention. If nothing else, he'd get some breakfast out of it and probably get to know "the others" that Varyan mentioned. Maybe I'll find someone who knows what's going on.

They proceeded towards the shanty town at a steady pace. The journey to the settlement was lengthy, and his arms began to ache from the weight of the logs. He shifted them to ease the discomfort.

"I appreciate your help. Collecting logs from way up there has been exhausting," Varyan remarked, his smile returning.

"Why do you have to go up there for wood? There's an entire forest down there," he gestured towards the huts with his eyes.

"It's a shame really," Varyan explained. "The trees grew too tall, and now the Baron can't see the camp."

"The Baron?"

Varyan pointed towards the tower up the hill. They paused momentarily.

"That's eerie," he said.

Varyan nodded. "As a child, I used to hide in that spot whenever something bothered me. Now the Baron wants those trees gone. So we are not allowed to go to the forest for wood until that's cleaned up."

"I'm sorry that happened."

"Don't be. It's not your decision," Varyan's gaze lingered on the castle for a moment. "So, what's your name? You've never introduced yourself."

"I…,"

I have no idea.

Varyan turned his attention to him. "You must have a name. The Baron or some Adventurer would have given you one."

He was even more confused. Why would they give me a name?

"I don't remember getting a name. I don't remember anything. I came here through a huge door."

"A huge door? In the middle of a hill?" Varyan scoffed. "Where are you from, really?"

"I don't know. I don't remember anything other than the door. Then I saw you."

"They didn't cart you here? You didn't get a name? You didn't have one beforehand? Are you sure? Were you hit on the head? Does your head hurt?" Varyan laughed.

"Who would have brought me here?"

"The Adventurers, of course! Someone must have purchased you and brought you here."

"Why would someone buy me?" He began to feel anxious.

"You really know nothing," Varyan calmed down, still amused. "You're a tough nut, but we'll crack you eventually."

"I don't understand."

"Listen," Varyan's expression turned serious. "If—and I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt here—you truly don't remember anything, then here's the harsh reality: You are now property."

"What?"

"If you've arrived here wearing those clothes, it means you're now a slave."

His heart sank. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly as I said. You, like me, are some Adventurer's property, likely the Baron's, and you're expected to work in the mines at the slave camp."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't remember anything, but I'm certainly not a slave. This is a mistake."

"It's unfortunate that you don't remember, but it seems you had no say in the matter."

He didn't know how to respond. He still struggled to comprehend his situation. They set the logs down on the ground. This can't be real! This all sounds like a strange dream. Exactly! A strange dream. Of course! Varyan's thumb wasn't cut. I'm going to wake up soon.

Varyan flicked a finger at his face. The pain was moderate but unmistakably real.

"Here's something you should not forget: Pull your weight at work, don't get in the way of the others, and always do what the Adventurers say. Especially the Baron."

What is he talking about? Who even is this Baron? What does he want from me?

He needed a moment to let the shock subside. Then, after the tempest of thoughts abated, he said the first thing that came to mind:

"The Baron sounds like an asshole."

Varyan erupted into hearty laughter. His entire body twitched with each laugh, nearly causing him to slip on the damp grass. He attempted to speak.

"Don't let them—," but he couldn't finish the sentence without bursting into laughter again.

The laughter was high-pitched and uninhibited. It was infectious. He found himself laughing with Varyan, despite the seriousness of the situation. The thought of the two of them, half-naked and laughing uncontrollably over a pile of wood, just sounded too insane to take things seriously.

"No, seriously," Varyan tried to regain his composure, "don't let anyone catch you saying that." Despite his efforts, an amused grunt escaped.

He also struggled to remain serious, but he managed to respond: "Thank you for the warning. I should've guessed that I'm not allowed to say that. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Varyan whispered with a teary eye.

He looked towards the sky with a smile on his face.

The sun rose steadily along the mountain line. They took a moment to absorb its warmth. It felt as if the shock from before was being washed away.

"Come on," Varyan said, "let's eat."

They picked up the logs wrapped in rags once more and continued their way downhill as he contemplated what to make of his situation.