Before Ezra could fully open his eyes, the gentle lapping of water resonated in his ears, accompanied by the faint echoes of dripping. As he slowly lifted his eyelids, the underside of a stone roof came into view. Despite the dryness of his mouth and a lingering sense of disorientation, his body felt surprisingly intact, until he attempted to move. 

To his dismay, Ezra found no response when trying to lift his legs. A wave of panic washed over him as he realized he couldn't feel anything from the waist down. Frantically, he pulled back the covers, revealing his legs tightly bandaged, immobilized by the wrappings.

– Your legs are fine, child. I had to numb them to spare you from the pain,  a soft yet slightly irritable voice broke the silence. 

Ezra slowly turned his head towards the source of the voice, his eyes focusing on an old man standing at the back of the room. His face was etched with deep wrinkles, and he was clothed in a simple, black garment that hung loosely from his frame. The room, much like the man’s attire, was austere, resembling a cellar.

The old man, Charles, approached Ezra with a calm demeanor. 

– How do you feel? he asked gently.

Ezra, still trying to piece together his memories, remembered only the crushing weight of the rocks before everything went dark. 

– I’m alive, and that’s something, he managed to say, his voice hoarse, followed by a fit of coughing.

Charles quickly fetched a cup of warm water, offering it to Ezra, who took grateful sips. The water felt like a balm to his parched throat, bringing a semblance of relief.

– Thank you… Ezra began.

– Charles. Just call me Charles, the old man interjected, a hint of weariness in his tone.

As he sat, a sudden jolt of pain shot up his legs, making him wince. Charles looked on, a mix of surprise and concern on his face.

– It seems the numbing treatment has worn off, Charles remarked, setting the cup aside and carefully unwrapping the bandages. Ezra braced himself as the full extent of his injuries was revealed – scars and wounds he had no memory of acquiring.

A cold sweat broke out on Ezra's forehead as the pain intensified. Charles inspected each injury meticulously. 

– Mr. Charles…

– Please, just Charles, the old man corrected him, his attention still fixed on Ezra's legs.

– How long have I been out? Ezra asked, dreading the possibility of a prolonged absence from his world.

– Just over two nights, but don’t worry, time is slower in this world. Charles responded, his hands now hovering above Ezra's legs. A blue, ethereal fluid emanated from his palms, swirling into the wounds. The pain, which had been escalating, suddenly ceased, replaced by a strange, tranquil silence.

Ezra's eyes, wide with curiosity, watched the surreal scene unfold. 

– What is that? I’ve never seen medicine like this.

Charles turned, his expression tinged with annoyance. 

– It’s something you should never have seen.

These words annoyed Ezra,

– I escaped death twice, I saw creatures that spoke like humans, people with supernatural powers and no one can tell me anything about what's happening ? 

Charles’s gaze softened. 

– It’s for your own good that I keep silent. Once you’re healed, I'll take you back home.

Ezra’s heart sank at the thought of leaving this mysterious world, his curiosity unsated. Charles’s voice hardened, 

– Don’t even think of getting up tonight. Your legs have been through a lot. Rest now.

Left alone with his thoughts, Ezra lay under the faint glow of a small orb on the ceiling. The night passed in a blur of restless sleep. 

As the warm light of morning filled the room, Ezra, still lying on the makeshift bed, found himself enveloped in a mix of relief and unanswered questions. Charles, standing by the doorway, watched him with an expression that was a complex tapestry of concern, duty, and a deep, unspoken sorrow.

– I take it you had a rough night? Charles asked, his voice tinged with empathy.

Ezra, still feeling the remnants of the numbing treatment, nodded. 

– It's not the physical pain that bothers me. It's... not knowing, he admitted, his voice laced with frustration.

Charles moved closer, his eyes—a striking shade of blue—reflecting the light of the room. He sighed, the weight of years and secrets seeming to press down upon him.

– Ezra, I knew your father well. He was more than a friend to me; he was a brother in arms. We spent countless years in this world together. His prowess with the elements, his incredible skill... I admired him. But what he cherished most was his family – you and your siblings.

Ezra's eyes widened at the mention of his father. 

– So that’s true, my father... he was part of this world.

Charles nodded solemnly. 

– He was. And he was extraordinary. But he made me promise, before he passed, to keep you and your siblings away from this world. It's too dangerous, too unforgiving. He wanted a different life for you, a safer, more peaceful life.

The revelation hit Ezra like a wave. His father, a figure shrouded in mystery, now seemed both closer and further away than ever.

– So, you're sending me back to keep your promise?” Ezra asked, his voice a blend of understanding and disappointment.

Charles placed a hand on Ezra's shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm. 

– I remember my own excitement at discovering this world. It’s a shame you're forbidden from it, but it’s for your best. 

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Charles called for the visitor to enter, and a masked figure stepped in, bowing respectfully. 

– The portal is ready, but it won’t hold for long, the figure reported.

Charles nodded to Ezra. 

– It's time. Remember, your father was a hero. He loved you deeply, and his legacy lives on in you, even if you live a different life from his .

As Ezra followed Charles through the winding, maze-like corridors of the stone house, his heart was a whirlpool of emotions. Each step towards the glowing portal felt like a step apart from the answers he sought. The air was thick with the history and secrets of this world, secrets that were no longer part of his own story.

Just before stepping through the radiant portal, Ezra paused and turned to face Charles. A question, burning in his mind since their conversation began, refused to remain unasked. 

– Charles, he started, his voice hesitant yet desperate for the truth, did my father really die in a plane crash?

Charles's eyes, filled with centuries of wisdom and sorrow, met Ezra's. For a moment, there was a silent understanding between them, an acknowledgment of the heavy burden of truth and the weight of promises made long ago. 

Finally, Charles spoke, his voice soft yet heavy with regret. 

– Ezra, sometimes a lie serves a purpose greater than the truth. And sometimes, the truth can be more painful than the lie. I am truly sorry.

The words hung in the air, a cryptic message that offered no real answers, leaving Ezra with a sense of unresolved longing. Yet, there was a deep sincerity in Charles's voice that suggested this was the most he could offer.

As Ezra prepared to step through the portal, Charles reached out, gently grasping Ezra's hand to examine the ring he wore – a tangible link to his father. The ring, seemed to pulse with an energy that was almost palpable.

– This ring, Charles began, his tone laced with a mix of caution and solemnity, “it holds too much power for you right now, and it carries a unique signature – a trace of your father.

Ezra looked down at the ring, feeling the weight of its significance, the connection it held to a man he barely knew yet was intrinsically a part of him.

Charles continued, 

– This ring is how I found you, and if it led me to you, others might follow it as well. People who may not wish you well.

Ezra’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and a dawning realization of the danger the ring could pose. 

– Your life could be in danger if you keep it. I cannot let you leave with it. I'm sorry, I feel like I'm tearing everything away from you, but... Charles said, the regret in his voice clear.

Ezra slid the ring off his finger, feeling a sudden sense of loss, as though he was parting with a piece of his heritage, a direct connection to his father. He handed it to Charles, who took it with solemn reverence.

– I'll keep it safe for you, promised Charles, closing his hand around the ring. “One day, when the time is right, it will be yours again.

Ezra nodded, understanding the necessity of the decision despite the pang of parting with the ring. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the journey back to his world.

With a heavy heart, Ezra turned back towards the portal. As the light from the gateway bathed him, he took one last look at the world he was leaving behind—a world that held a part of his father.

Stepping through the portal, Ezra felt a dizzying rush as reality shifted around him. He emerged onto a street in his neighborhood, the familiar sights and sounds a stark contrast to the otherworldly place he had just left. He glanced at his watch, it was very late.

 He grimaced : tonight was not going to be easy… He rushed to go home.