If the man were coherent, he'd probably equate the sensation to being in a sensory deprivation tank. There was nothing. Just an awareness of weightless floating. No sight, smell or hearing... at least that's what he thought.

  '..eek me.'

  'W-What", he blearily wondered.

  Clearer than before there was a voice that came from nowhere, but was unmistakably present, 'Seek me.'

  The words made no sense to him. Seek? Seek what? Where was he supposed to seek it? Who was that even talking to him? Wait, there was a light. Shining like a lighthouse in the infinite nothingness around him. He drifted towards the light or rather the light was dragging him towards it and all the while, 'Seek me.'

  With the light drawing closer, coherence was ever so slightly returning to his previously muddled mind, "Who are you? And what do you mean 'seek me?'"

  One final time the voice reiterated, 'When you reach the lowest point, seek me and I will guide you.'

  The light was now forcefully wrapping around him. Confusion about everything was flooding his mind but he called out, "What does that mean?"

  But the voice had stopped repeating itself and now, even though he was squeezing his eyes shut, the light was still practically blinding him. The feeling of weightlessness disappeared and the man came careening down into something. Returning to normal physics after being subjected to... whatever had just happened to him was disorienting. Vertigo, weakness, the still blinding light, some kind of sweet smelling smoke and what sounded like a kind of chanting was assaulting his every sense. Naturally, the only thing to do upon going from nothing to plenty of something was, in his case, to eject his stomach acids onto the floor. Heaving and desperately pawing around to find something to steady himself on, he barely caught the sound of a door opening and feet running forward. Through his ringing ears, the man heard, “What in the name of the gods? How did he get there?”

  "It doesn’t matter how”, a second voice said, “We need to alert the High Priest right now!"

  A hand roughly grabbed the man and instinct took over. Turning whoever's pinky upward, he cranked the wrist and was rewarded with that person loudly cursing some word he had never heard before, "Faex!"

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  More hands roughly grabbed at him and held him still. The man shot out a straight kick that at least hyperextended his assailant’s knee. Quickly kicking the man he was grabbing before spinning him around to put him in a headlock, the man took stock of his situation. There were only the three of them in some kind of high vaulted room that looked like it belonged to a castle. The two that had tried to grab him were wearing some kind of all white uniform with breeches and robes.

  The man knew for a fact that he didn’t recognize anything about where he was, but he couldn’t remember what it was that was supposed to be familiar. Whatever situation he was in, the man knew that remaining in one place in unfamiliar and possibly hostile territory got you killed. Increasing the pressure on his victim’s neck, the man felt him go limp. One guy unconscious and the other immobile, but still lively. The man saw him draw some kind of short sword. Whoever designed the sword was good with its surface being almost mirror clear. Snatching the same sword from the unconscious guard’s hip, he held it above his neck, “One more move and your friend dies.” He didn’t even know if he was speaking the right language, but at least he got through clear enough that the other guard’s sword clattered to the ground. Quickly taking it into his hand, the man smashed the but of the sword into the hinge of the guard’s jaw, knocking him out. A scream made the man’s head snap up as he saw a woman run away from the doorway. Tucking the blades in his belt, he thought that was definitely his cue to get out.

  Cautiously peeking his head around the doorway, he was definitely in some kind of castle or church. The interior design was definitely some kind of Renaissance style architecture with different figures and scenes he couldn’t place carved into the stone walls. Through the intricate patterns of a window frame, he could see it was the middle of the night. The hallway was clear, but the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. They were coming from the right, so the only option was to run the opposite direction. As he ran, the man thought it might have been prudent to grab one of the uniforms, but the robes didn’t have a hood, so it wouldn’t have mattered. Tearing down the hallway, it split off in two directions, he paused and used his ears. The approaching footsteps from before were drawing closer. There were fewer than before, most likely a couple stopped to take care of the two he dispatched a moment ago. Beyond that, he could hear more voices off to the left, but the right was quieter.

  Moving as quickly as he could without sacrificing the silence of his feet, he took off down several hallways, no real direction, but keeping out of sight. By some miracle, when he turned the corner, and arrived in the foyer that led to what appeared to be a chapel. And more importantly, at the other end of the foyer there was a large door. The man got so caught up in the hope of the moment that it was only reflexes that saw him tuck and roll from a blast that made the rock behind him shatter. Growling to himself, he realized his pursuers would realize he’d try to escape,and used their familiarity with the building to cut off his exit.

  Quickly running to the wall, he flipped over a table to form a makeshift shield. Before he pulled it down, he saw seven guards.

  “Fool”, a voice scolded, “We were told to capture only.”