Time keeps flowing, the world keeps moving, and the past is slowly forgotten. First there is darkness, a low hum of strange power, then a creak reverberates in the stillness. The small sound is followed by more, higher in intensity until something shatters. With a thump a figure falls to the ground, slowly regaining his footing he takes in the surroundings with softly glowing eyes, unused to the simple action. "Where am I?" a legitimate question, simple and instinctive, followed by a more unusual one indicative of the strange situation "Who am I?". The place is dark, only lit up by the faint fading light of the young man's eyes and the shine from a small window in the door, arcane patterns floating in there revealing the nature of it. After a moment of confusion and personal reflection the inmate recognized just one thing, the name Lorus that felt like his own, nothing else came to mind, and the bare cell containing only him and some rapidly disintegrating shards of unknown material did not seem to hold any answers, the priority was getting out.

Even with no memory of it the place made the prisoner uneasy, examining the door reavealed it was locked and reinforced with some kind of magic, a familiar feeling with no answers in sight still. Frustration was starting to build up, a bit of fear, maybe even panic, and more importantly a wish to get out of there, a flash of memory and light, wings unfold and the world shifts, but the man is still in place. Confusion and disorientation are quickly replaced by disappointement, and then by more spite than rage, a punch is directed at the metal door, surprisingly the glowing window cracks. The crack is slowly closing but the punch had an effect, so the inmate tries again, more concentration and intent, the door bends and flies off it's hinges, a corridor is revealed. Cautious steps are taken outside the cell, similar doors line the walls of the corridors, all seem empty however, or at least inactive by the lack of glow. Exploring the corridor a sign catches the prisoner's eye, right next to the now empty doorframe stands a plaque of sorts with a symbol carved on it ☿, "Azoth. Wait, why do I know what that means? It feels very familiar, personal, important." More flashes of memory, flowing like water but more harmful, poisonous, shifting and slashing, changing, unstable but eternal. Small droplets of this metallic substance strated appearing around the inmate, floating and shifting, they felt natural, nostalgic almost, but he had not time for reverie as he had to get out of there.

The corridors looked all the same, doors one after the other with more names, none felt familiar and none had strange symbols, just names. A sudden noise interrupted the quiet, creaking stone and magical sparks, heavy steps and tembling walls, whatever it was the walls did not aggree with it sedding dust and fragments. A stone creature stepped out of the corner, covered in magic markings and humming in a low threatening roar, it was however like the rest of the labirinthean place, the marks were fading intermittedly, it was old and running out of energy. The creature appoached, it was slow, very slow in fact almost too much, but it was blocking the corridor so it had to be removed somehow, droplets coalesched and multiplied a spike was now floating ready to shoot frowards, and with gesture of intent it does, the creature is hit but does not even flinch, it is damaged however. More spikes are made and shot, the golem advances unbothered but slowly crumbling, until a spike hits a newly exposed glowing sphere, and the whole creature crumbles to dust. The prisoner found the weakpoint, it was easy, too easy but he was not going to complain too much, in case of more guards it would be useful.

The complex was old and the guards, if you could call them that, were crumbling. Some doors were labeled differently, in a language the young man did not recognize, or at least one he could not read, they were more furnished and had instruments and papers scattered in them. Some rooms even had remains of skeletons, too old to be intact and turning to dust at the slightest touch, nothing useful was left apart from some strangely well preserved books, they had similar symbols on them to the one next to his cell so the inmate decided to take them. The entire building was completely lacking in windows to the outside, that made guessing the direction of the exit very difficult, that is until a particularly fancy room. It had a bigger door than the rest and very well preserved compared to the rest, the furniture inside was only ruined instead of about to turn to dust, but the more important feature was a big glass dome on the ceiling. The same feeling from before arose, the wish for freedom, wings unfold and a lunge is made, glass shatters and wind hits on the face of the prisoner. The light takes getting used to, the outside is much brighter than the inside of a prison with no windows, and much more colorful, mostly reds but that could be attributed to the setting sun on the horizon.

Wherever this place was the ex-inmate wanted nothing to do with it so he started flying higher and farther away not caring for the setting sun and approaching darkness. For the first time since he woke up however the fugitive saw something that did not feel familiar, something that felt incredibly alien, bright lights illuminating the darkness. "What sort of village is that? It looks so strange, it does not trigger any memory." The ex-prisoner decided to investigate, he was flying for a long time and a village, no matter how strange, would be a better resting spot than a cave. He landed outside the light range of the city and approached it, no guards stopped him, in fact there did not seem to be any stationed outside. The abnormally big village was incredibly active during the night, all manner of people and creatures walked the streets not even paying attention to eachother or the path they walked. The inital anxiety over being spotted quickly faded seeing the all those people acting as if they were the only ones in the world. After a bit of aimless wandering the young man stopped in front of what his flashes of memory told him was an inn, or the closest approximation of it, entering the estabilishment with only a slight bit of anxiety. Despite hi best efforts he still appeared lost, the strange board with affixed requests was the only familar sight, it attracted him somehow. A gruff voice shook the distracted man out of his reverie, "Hey kid! What are ya doing there?" the young man stared blankly back at the innkeeper, "Ya doing alright kid? Ya don't look so well. Are ya looking for something?", "I am Lorus Azoth, and I am now more certain than ever that I am lost".