Imrys woke in pieces, rather than all at once. It began with the twitch of a nostril, and with that motion he could begin to smell cold, dank stone beneath his face. The corner of his mouth felt it, too: cool, hard, and faintly ridged. He could feel a bit of it’s gritty surface as the muscles in his face ground against it. Farther away he could scent water, and in catching that scent he could suddenly hear it as well: a drip-drip-dripping from somewhere not too far off. The sound echoed strangely, however, and he couldn’t be certain of the distance.

Everything hurt in shivery, icy splinters that only gradually thawed. Like the aches that came with fever, the pain rolled over him, from the tip of his nose all the way down to his hooves. Hooves? That seemed wrong somehow, but he didn't know why. He couldn’t order his thoughts, and words and their meaning drifted in and out without pattern. 

With great care he lifted his head, eyes still closed, stretching his neck to ease the pain of muscle and sinew gone hard and immobile. The movement freed his limbs from whatever strange paralysis had held them, granting him a measure of surcease from the frigid pain.

Finally, he opened his eyes, staring down a face that was too long, and wrongly shaped. Equine. Horse. More words filtered through his thoughts slowly, more slowly even than his muscles gave way. Soon he could stretch and move and finally, with great difficulty and a momentary confused tangle of unfamiliar limbs, he stood, shivering as blood moved through legs that seemed only newly alive.

Stretching this way and that he took in his silver-on-black dappled coat and black feathered fetlocks above dusky hooves. A flick of a not-quite-familiar muscle, and he caught sight of the luxurious fall of his tail. The pain had faded to a sombre echo of itself, barely brushing the edge of his awareness now. Sorting through his thoughts and hunting his memories felt like sticking his tongue in the empty socket of a missing tooth, a quest that yielded nothing. 

"Imrys. I am Imrys." He clung to that sudden knowledge, it was among the only things he was certain of. Speaking his name out loud, he found his vocal cords stiff and unused, his voice high and scratchy like a spring coiled too tight.

"My name is Imrys." He tried again, his voice deepening as his vocal chords like the rest of him eased back into motion, a wheel in need of oil. At that thought, he licked the inside of his mouth, finding it bone dry. With a few staggering steps he made his way toward the sound of water. He could smell... everything. This water was crisp and clean, with hints of clover. It poured from a cleft in the rock overhead, seeming to glow as it brought in the thinnest shaft of sunlight with it.

Somewhere beyond this cave? Ruin? Words for things filtered in like sifting for leaves on the wind, catching only the bits and pieces. The chamber around him was dim, lit only by that singular minute shaft of light. The stone was half rough, natural rock, and half heavy, cut blocks, well stacked and with no sign of mortar. The trickle of water came from just beside one corner of the roughly square space, where crafted stone met natural, the water following the divide to pool in the corner of the room. 

Imrys lowered his head to the pool and drank slowly, allowing each life-giving sip to settle in his leaden stomach before drawing more. The water was cool, clean, and perhaps the best thing he’d ever drunk in his life, though it was most certainly the best thing he remembered ever drinking, given the state of his mind.

When Imrys’ thirst was slaked, he turned to examine more closely his environs, taking in sights that had seemed unimportant in the face of his thirst. The remnants of a camp were nestled against the wall not far from where he’d found himself. He spied the tripod of a cookpot, and his stomach grumbled heartily, but the camp was so old and dust-laden that he was unsurprised when careful inspection found nothing edible.There was an old worn pack, and when he dumped it out with his teeth he found a tiny clay inkpot, a lot of dust, the metal nib from a pen, and a leatherbound book surprisingly well-preserved. Imrys laid the book flat and was able to get it open by carefully pawing it with the tip of one hoof, but the words scribed on the pages might as well have been gibberish. Even the characters used were unfamiliar to him. He almost-but-not-quite remembered an easier way to turn pages, the feel of a pen in… in… a blinding spike of pain drove its way through his brain and he splayed his hooves and snorted, trying to blow away the agony.

Whatever it was he had almost remembered was gone more swiftly than it had come. He shoved the book and inkwell back in the back after laying the sack out as flat as he could. It took longer than he would have liked, but he managed to get everything inside. Then, he maneuvered his nose through the bag’s strap, slinging it round his neck so that it rested against one shoulder. Then he picked the pen nib up with his heavy lips and tucked that in the pack as well. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A clue, perhaps, for when… if… he found his way out of this place.

Imrys found nothing else of use to him amidst the camp. Bits of dust-filled armor, too heavy for the aged sack, and the wrong shape for him besides, he left where it lay. As he nudged his way through the rest of the debris of the camp, he found one strange and chill-inducing thing: a single word, scratching into the stone by some long-gone hand: GALATEA.

The word meant nothing to Imrys, but unlike the book, the lettering was at least familiar. Whatever they’d meant by it, he had no way to know, but he would carry the mystery with him from this place. Perhaps once he found the outside world, and hopefully civilization, he could find someone to ask.

There was only one entrance or exit to the chamber: a broad, worked stone doorway, still standing though it showed uncountable years of life. The air that flowed from the door was cool, but it lacked the sun-warmed clover scent of the tiny cleft. With one last look at the barren chamber, Imrys made his way through the door and into what lay beyond.

~ Continue the tale in Ch 2~