A-in fixed his gaze upon the man before him, studying his features with fierce intensity as he struggled to recall why this face seemed so familiar. Surrounding him were several others, each bearing a limp body slung over their shoulders like sacks...
Sacks.
Fragments of memory surged through A-in's mind. The ambush beneath the moonlit road, the chase, the pain. In an instant, recognition dawned. Without hesitation, he kicked the man's hand with all the force he could muster. The man cursed and released his grip. A-in scrambled backward, clawing desperately at the sand even as it swallowed his hands and slowed his escape. The wound in his back throbbed violently, yet he forced himself upright, his only thought to flee these men.
Right! We were ambushed… but where are Fabian and the others?
He knew at once that the bodies carried upon the men's shoulders could not be Fabian, no man alive could lift that weight with such ease. Perhaps they had managed to escape, and he alone had been captured.
"After him!"
"Do not let him escape! By any means necessary!"
A-in's feet carried him swiftly over the blistering sands, though each step scorched him as though the desert itself sought to reclaim him. He staggered once or twice, but forced his focus upon the path ahead. His arms swung wildly for balance as he gasped for breath, yet the air, hot and dry as a furnace, only seared his throat further and left his lips cracked. Sweat drenched his skin only to vanish at once beneath the desert heat.
A sharp gasp tore from his mouth when a blade hurtled past him, whistling through the air before burying itself in the sand ahead. A-in looked back just long enough to meet the contorted, furious expression of the man who had thrown it. Soon more blades followed, slicing past him as he twisted and lunged to evade them. His pursuers quickened their pace, he could hear their feet pounding behind him, feel their hands reaching, closer, closer.
At last they caught him.
Hands seized his arms, his legs, even his neck. Someone leapt upon his back, driving him face-first into the sand. His wrists were wrenched behind him, his fingers clawing helplessly at the ground.
"Let me go! Let me go, damn you!" A-in roared, thrashing against their hold.
"This insolent wretch," one of the men snarled, "you dare attempt escape? You bastard, you've already worn us thin!" He lifted his foot and brought it crashing down upon A-in's mouth with brutal force. "Bind him! Make certain he does not flee again!"
A-in's ears rang with the impact. His mouth went numb, he could not even tell if his teeth were still intact. Sand filled his lips, his tongue, his nose. Warm blood trickled from his nostrils. He shut his eyes tightly as the world spun around him, curses blooming in his mind like venomous flowers.
He whimpered, whether from pain or rage, he could not tell, as ropes were fastened around him. A moment later, his body lurched. They had begun to drag him once more, this time by the ropes biting into his limbs.
Their voices drifted above him, harsh and jeering, yet he could scarcely understand a word through the blinding pain that consumed him.