Land of Dichotomy (Original Fantasy). Chapter 1 - ? I.

I'd almost forgotten I had this story lying around. Absolutely fair warning: I wrote this when I was around 17-18, so if you think my normal stuff is edgy, you've seen nothing yet.

Anyway, the smart thing to do is to edit these until I'm happy with them, but eh. I've changed, both as a person and as a writer, so I figured I'd judge interest before I commit to a full rewrite. So have the first three chapters.

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Chapter 1 - ?

?

?

My eyelids flickered as consciousness started coming to me. Everything felt heavy. And cold. I was barely aware of my body, the sensations muted somehow, but I seemed to be resting in a chair of some sort. 

My left leg and part of my right forearm told of lying against icy metal. Spots on my back, too. But the rest said nothing, numb and strange in a way I could not put into words. (Something is wrong, it does not feel right, MY BODY-)

The next flicker allowed me a sliver of sight. For all the good that did. The chamber was pitch black. 

An enormous amount of willpower let my head roll to the side, propped up as it was by the backrest of the seat (I did not feel that! Why did I not FEEL THAT!?).

Nothing. Just more nothingness stretching out for eternity, hiding the large room of rough black metal, and the lack of any other furniture or items here-

Wait. What?

I could see. There was no light source, but I could see the ugly walls, appearing to have been built by someone with the same knowledge of metalworking as a toddler. 

What? 

It was completely dark, I knew it was, and yet I could see-

My head hurt. I raised my left hand to press on my eyes to alleviate the pounding I had suddenly noticed.

I did not expect the clang.

I froze.

What?

My world narrowed, my surroundings disappearing. The only thing in existence was my hand (NO! NO!).

Or at least, the one attached to me.

Cruel and twisted, it more closely resembled that of a bird than a human. Talons where fingers should be, long and pointed, coming to a deadly point. The palm was too long, crafted from black metal so dark that it made the room around me look self-illuminating. Streaks of dull red crawled like veins up my arm, which was unnatural and wrong. Bulky as well. (NO! MY ARM! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY ARM!? HELP ME!)

My arm was made of metal. That did not seem right. Had it always been like that? 

What about the rest of me?

Any drowsiness was thrown to the side as I examined myself.

My general shape was fairly human. My chest domed, like a breastplate, and the ribs had been carved down the sides; the veins were more concentrated, roughly where my heart would have been.

Did I have a heart?

My legs were the same, metal and almost correctly proportioned, except for the clawed, long feet. Was that another digit coming out of my heel? Odd.

My attention, however, was not on that. 

No, instead, I could not tear my focus away from the parts that were not steel.

A large portion of my left leg and right forearm was flesh. Pale, sickly flesh, the skin so transparent that the black bone beneath was visible and looked slimy. But it was still flesh.

So I was not made entirely of metal? (PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME! WHERE AM I? OH AZIA, MY BODY-)

Strange.

Having gained a basic understanding of my appearance left only one question.

Where was I?

Actually, a more important question was probably…

Who was I?

My brain felt fuzzy.

I tried taking a deep breath to sort out my thoughts, only to find that I could not.

Oh. Right. No lungs. (Please. This is all wrong. Help me.)

Thinking hurt, so I gripped the armrest on either side and pushed myself to my feet. It was hard to be sure without something to measure against, but I felt big.

Also kind of clumsy, as I found out by trying to take a step. My balance and judgement of my reach were off and nearly sent me crashing, if not for my toes digging into the floor, carving furrows into the dense alloy.

That was useful.

Still, I must have been sitting in that chair for a while if I have forgotten how to walk. 

Luckily, no one saw that.

I moved for the door on the left. The room was empty, so if I wanted any information, I would have to search for it. My steps were careful and slow, each one analyzed to try and remember how everything moved, but I got there.

I braced myself before I, in one quick motion, threw open the door, ready for whatever awaited me.

A wall, remarkably similar to those I had just left behind.

A corridor.

I really wished I could sigh.

A look to the left and the right revealed nothing, just more strange blackness-that-was-lit, before the halls turned another corner. With no clues, I picked the right.

The loud clang of my feet on impact echoed around me, the only sound I had heard at this point. Everything was as silent as the dead. There was no smell either, though whether that was because of the lack of such or my inability to detect them was unknown. (Please…)

That silence did not last, however. It started faint, so faint I thought it was my imagination, but as it grew, it became increasingly clear and familiar, considering I was making the same sound.

Rhythmic slaps of steel on steel, though the ones coming my way were much faster.

Like someone running.

I stopped and waited. The corridor was featureless, and the only door seemed to be the one that led to my starting room, so there was nowhere to hide, and the approaching noise was too close to make it to the other end, so running was not an option either.

Might as well meet it head-on. It felt more like something I would do anyway.

The increase in tension I felt as it got closer and closer seemed foolish when the presence rounded the bend. Small, barely reaching my stomach, and thin as well, a mere third of my mass, it was cloaked completely in black cloth. The only identifiable features were the two red eyes that glowed from under the cowl.

Glowing eyes were real? Did I have glowing eyes?

The brief moment of distraction thankfully did not cost me anything, as upon catching sight of me, the tiny figure gave a loud cry.

"MASTER!"

Master?

I did not have the time to consider the word choice, as my servant? Rushed towards me. (PLEASE! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME! I DO NOT UNDERSTAND- MY BODY- I DO NOT KNOW WHERE I AM- THIS IS NOT ME- WHO AM I!?)

"Master, why are you awake? I am terribly sorry I was not there to greet you; you must be so confused, but you were not supposed to have awoken just yet!" The robed one spat out in an unbroken stream. The voice sounded masculine, and like its throat was made of rocks. 

He grabbed me by the arm and started tucking back the way I came. I tried to speak.

"What?"

If my new companion's voice was like rock, my own was like two mountains colliding with a third made of iron. The natural timber was as deep and dark as the ocean, while just under the surface, the screech of steel grinding against steel reverberated.

None of this was right. (I do not understand…)

The man continued leading me, soon going back into the original room.

"I know, Master, I know. I truly wish you would rest peacefully, yet your incredible strength shines through even in times like these! You were gravely injured during the battle, and had to enter a restorative slumber to recover." He continued as he gently pushed me to sit back in my chair, which, upon closer inspection, was actually a throne.

What battle? Was that the reason for my body? But the little one seemed to be metal too…

"I do n-"

"Please, my Master, you must trust me. The wound to your head was grievous. You have to drink and rest. Soon, very soon, you shall be back to full power and all your questions will be answered." The servant pleaded as he held up a flask he had taken from his belt.

Head wound? Is that why I can not remember anything? The man knew what was going on and seemed to have my best interests in mind. It was probably smart to do as he said. (NO, I DO NOT WANT TO SLEEP, I NEED ANSWERS!)

I allowed my lips to crack open and let the small hand tip the liquid in. Tasteless and odorless. (Oh, Azia…)

The effect was immediate. My head rolled back, and my eyes nearly snapped shut. 

The last thing I heard was the gravelly voice, sounding like it was coming from underwater. 

Or maybe I was underwater?

"Almost there."