The pain tugs at your consciousness, it consumes you, it gives you meaning. Nothing else seems real.

What happened?

For a moment, you thought you could see.

No, it's just in my head.

The churning, shifting amalgamation of colorful blobs before you begins to slowly sharpen. A new sensation trickles over you, and throws your body into convulsions. It's a familiar sensation, one that brings memories of late nights and one too many drinks. It wasn't enough to subdue the pain. The convulsions cease after what seems like a minute or two, but your perception of time is all but lost in your current state of consciousness; it could have been hours. You hear a slight murmuring in your ears and realize it was there the whole time, only now it's getting louder. Failing to find your voice, you attempt to reach out toward the sound only to be greeted by a searing pain in your arm.

Try not to move just yet, you think you hear a voice telling you. The pain is too much to handle; you feel yourself slip back into a deeper state of unconsciousness.

When you wake, you first test your fingers. They move, but it requires effort. After some strain, you manage to open your eyes. Your sight is flooded by bright light, and you squint at the light trying to focus on anything around you.

So, you're awake! The voice seems to come from miles away.

Turning towards the voice, you're greeted by the hazy silhouette of a figure standing next to you. You've had quite a day, the silhouette tells you in a distinctly male voice and continues by saying, I'd say you're lucky to be alive!

"W... What happened?" The words didn't come easily, but at least your vision seems to be returning. You struggle to focus on the blurry silhouette as it moves around you, seeming not to have noticed your question. It just moves about the room, fumbling around with some things there.

"E-heehee-heehee," echoes the silhouette's shrill laughter, "a good question, indeed. Though, I don't have the answer. You're in my home, I brought you here when I found you early this morning as I was gathering some herbs. Heehee! You were screaming like a banshee, lucky that, or I would never have seen you laying on that embankment. 'Least not 'til it was far too late, heehee!" The silhouette has gained a bit more focus. It looks more like a crotchety old hermit, now. He shuffles around, picking up this, putting down that. You can't quite figure out what he's doing, but your head starts to hurt again, so you lay back on the hard pillow. The silhouette mentions, almost as an after-thought, "you passed out when I lifted you into my cart. Been out cold ever since!"

A few minutes pass, as you lay--eyes closed--on the bed, trying to remember anything significant about what has happened to you. Suddenly you notice a sweet and spicy aroma tantalizing your olfactory senses, making you very hungry. Almost as if on cue, the old hermit appears at your bedside holding a bowl full of the source of the aroma.

"Eat! Eat!" The hermit thrusts the bowl into your hands and helps you to sit up. You pick up the bowl and empty it in a matter of seconds, barely noticing the liquid scorching your tongue on the way in. Wiping your mouth, you gladly accept the second bowl being handed to you. This time you eat slowly, savoring the taste. Not quite like anything you've eaten before, yet strangely familiar. As you finish the second bowl, you suddenly realize your sight has almost fully returned, and the pain that was once coursing through your body like the very blood in your veins is now just a dim throb in the back of your head.

"So, where am I?" You inquire of the hermit, setting the empty bowl on a small, poorly-crafted, wooden stand near the bed.

"Ahhh! That, I can answer. Through-comers have called it many names. I call it simply 'home'." The hermit gives you a suspecting sideways glance. "You don't know how you got here. They never do.

"You will have no memory of your past. It's useless to try to recollect. Once you've found your way to this world, all memories of the last are forever lost." The old hermit strokes his long, gray goatee thoughtfully, "it seems there are more and more passing this way lately. Not all of them have had such a rough arrival as you. You see, this place--this world--that you have arrived in, it's a doorway to many other worlds. A nexus, some would say." Shaking his head at you the hermit adds, "No, you won't be able to see the doors yet. It's still too soon. It takes a special pair of eyes to see the way into the other Realms. You will earn them soon enough, have patience." The shrill laughter escapes his lips again when he glimpses the look on your face.

It's too much. You lay back and close your eyes, trying to absorb what the old hermit told you. It's not long before you fall back into a deep recuperative sleep...