Some kind of omnious preview...


Samuel was led into a hall of Arabic-Drell architecture, everything here, including the scents, was so strangely familiar. He looked around briefly before his eyes fell on the man sitting in an armchair, a drell. He recognised him, it was Deimos. The hooded man who had led him here pushed Samuel by the handcuffs on his back to within about ten feet of Deimos, not letting him get any closer. Their eyes met, Deimos narrowed his eyes disapprovingly.

The hooded man apparently noticed this immediately and reacted promptly. Roughly, he kicked the back of the bound man's knees, causing Samuel to fall to the ground with a low groan of pain. In broken Old Drell, which was no longer spoken and only among those who had learnt it for scientific purposes or were part of that grouping, the fellow hissed at him as he stepped in front of him.

»You will kneel before your master when approaching him, slave!«

Samuel replied in the same language, for he too had learned it, but spoke it better than the hooded man.

»He is not my master!«

At these words, and presumably at the audacity of looking directly at Deimos, the hooded man slapped him across the face with the back of his hand.

»Arrogant slave scum, I will teach you humility!« He hissed.

Deimos intervened, raised a hand and spoke in modern Drell, "Enough!"

He rose and walked slowly towards the kneeling bound elf. His movements resembled those of a predatory cat, fluid, majestic - dangerous and deadly. Samuel watched his every move with a scowl, looking him in the eye - the hooded man disliked this deeply, but he had stepped back and now kept silently in the shadows. Deimos' locked eyes with Samuel.

"In the past, you would not have dared to look me in the eye at any second."

His voice, in the guttural dark drell tone, sounded neutral, almost gentle as he spoke. Samuel drew his eyebrows together gently and continued to look at him.

"Who....are you and what do you want from me?" He asked a little more softly.

"Who am I?" Deimos raised his eyebrows, shaking his head gently. "So it's true then. You've forgotten me, really. Forgotten everything."

He stopped right before him, looking down on him.

„Then it's time to remember. Who you were, who you are, what purpose your existence serves and who you belong to - Sekhmet.“