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Chapter 1
Naked and Alone
41 I woke up naked and alone in a cold dark prison cell. I had no memory of how I got here. In fact as I thought about it I couldn't remember anything about anything. How cliche I thought, amnesia! I shivered and looked down at my body. Against all the odds I found myself in good health, clean, and uninjured. I ran my hands down the sides of my trim, toned, almost wiry body and admired myself. I was in excellent shape. I admired as well my dark almost reddish brown skin. I did discover some old scar tissue on my sides, a criss cross of what must have been once a serious wound on my thigh: claw marks? Teeth? Knife wounds? So strange to bear such marks but no memories. I must be or have been some sort of warrior I thought. Maybe a hunter. I tried to conjure something out of the association but nothing came. Or maybe I'm some sort of an outlaw. Who might have captured me I wondered, and placed me in this cell. I gingerly touched my face and discovered another cruel long gash extending from my forehead, crossing my left eye, cheek, and lips.
Wow, I thought, it is a wonder I'm not blind in that eye, or maybe I am? I closed my eye and gently touched the outside of my eyelid. It felt okay but how can I tell? My cell was pitch black [[ed. you just looked at your own skin so make up your mind]]. Perhaps I was totally blind, but I didn't think so. I had it in my mind that being actually blind would somehow be different from total darkness, but I couldn't remember where I got such an idea. About then another idea came into my head. If I never see any light will I eventually lose my mind? I felt like that was a thing. I started then to wonder whether worrying about losing my mind could cause me to panic. I didn't feel panicked. I didn't even feel as worried as I think a woman should feel upon finding herself naked and alone in a dungeon cell. I only felt a kind of eager anticipation, almost exhilaration. Weird. I'm pretty sure that's not how people are supposed to feel in prisons or dungeons or ... oubliettes. Oh my god what a word. Oubliette. A place where prisoners were thrown to be forgotten. Was I being starved? I had no memory of ever having been fed in this place. Wait maybe the oubliette has made me forget everything. I don't think that's what the word is supposed to mean but then how can I trust anything. The notion of being left to die of thirst of starvation should be really horrifying. Surely that idea should get my heart racing and make me start to hyperventilate with anxiety or something. But no. I put my hand on my neck to feel my pulse. Calm and relaxed. How smooth my throat felt. No marks or scars. I wondered how I looked. Immediately an image appeared of a woman, strong, lean, athletic. Beautiful but rough edged, skin that matched the endless red sands of... of where? Where was I from? Where had I been? My hair was closely shaved on each side but jutted out in thick red spiky locks all over the top of my crown.
Was that really me I was seeing in my minds eye? Well I hope so because if so I am extremely hot. I wondered if I was getting my memories back. I reached up and touched the sides of my head and the crown, close shaved and messy just as I imagined. Is this proof my memories are returning? It didn't feel like that, if anything it felt almost as though my hair hadn't existed until I thought about it. As though my own imagination was leading the way. Dream! That's it this is probably a dream. If I just wait I'll probably wake up now that I've identified the situation. I waited. I did not wake up. Nothing happened. I couldn't decide what was going on. It was hard to pin down why but none of this felt the way I imagine recovering from memory loss should feel. But then what would I know about recovering from amnesia would feel like? This entire train of thought was rapidly going nowhere so I derailed it and returned to more scientific questions.
Like how do I even know I'm really in a dungeon. This took no time to to confirm. I reached out with both arms to each side of me and immediately slammed my right into a dry stone wall and found my left hand coming up against the icy cold iron bars of a cell. "Hmph" I snorted half in pain, and half in fear that I might have called these stupid bars into existence by imagining them. That would be idiotic. Surely I could have the presence of mind have imagined myself waking up beneath silk sheets on a luxurious palanquin begin carried towards a soothing tropical oasis or riad. Or in a temple surrounded by devoted dancers... I took a moment