The Last Knights of Cambria Book 4: Secrets of the Mountain

Chapter 1: I have come realize this situation is probably my fault

Gideon
The ghosts that kidnapped me keep refusing to possess me. I think this is because they are mean spirits who don't want me to be happy. What is the point, I ask you, of being kidnapped to an unknown haunted cavern, from which you cannot escape, if you aren't going to be possessed by the odd ghost? It's very unfair if you ask me, which none of them did. I don't actually mind being kidnapped. It hasn't been half bad. This isn't even on par with being as bad as the time that I died. I realize having died, I might have a low bar for reasonable experiences. Even so.
"Please? You brought me here, come out and talk to me," I beg, as I pace the darkened cave. I can use magic for light and currently have a set of orbs floating around a shallow pool. It's a closed cavern. I see no way in or out. And unfortunately I've been unable to figure out how to teleport. It's a very nice cave. Not unlike Gollum's cave, just very pleasant very pretty pools smells like rock and forest and I do quite like it, but I am a bit stuck.
"You're the ones who kidnapped me, why don't you want to chat with me? I'd let you possess me? It could be fun, bet nobody ever offers you that," I say, as I walk up to hug a stalagmite (easy way to remember that, stalactites stalagmites, only caves have got them, tites are on the top,  mites are on the bottom. You can thank me later). It's very nice cool rock and I like pressing my face against it.
"Please?" I sigh. Nothing. They were shadowy, grey spirits, kept appearing then fading away. I couldn't identify their garb, but they looked like soldiers. Normans? Celts?  Something like that, they haven't hung about or wanted to talk.
How did I get kidnapped, you ask? Well, ah, to be perfectly clear despite the number of cursed objects I touch on— lets go with a daily basis, in order to warp myself six hundred years in the past to go to war with Henry V and other such amusements, and the number of times I tick off powerful sorcerers like the Archbishop Courtenay, I don't actually think that this was strictly my fault.
I was genuinely minding my own business.
It's the end of summertime in Wales. There's harvest just upon us, the days are long and warm. We're rebuilding Harlech castle, but the royal family is at Criccieth Castle, so I'm there. It's actually one of the older fortifications in Wales, Llewellyn the Great built it before Edward I conquered, or tried to conquer in this timeline. It's very cool, bit more similar to Harlech than Conwy, and I'm really enjoying it. After going to war in France this spring, we've barely been home for a few months of peace. We helped crush the French revolutionaries, King Henry is actually somewhat okay with us, he's got the Dauphin as his prisoner, more power in France than ever, and he's named his youngest son Prince of Wales. That's an okay situation for the present as King Elis, Wales' true king, is Lord Protector. It's not independence, but it's as close as we're going to get with King Henry on the throne and happy to control the free world.
But back to the part where I was minding my own business.
I know this is hard to believe given the number of, ah, cursed objects I've touched, number of times I've sneaked into King Henry's tent or room and spied on him, number of times I've been chased around Windsor Palace by packs of guards and King Henry, and the incident with the dragon. However. I was, possibly for the first time in my life, ever. Minding my own business. It's true.
It's the end of summer, it's unseasonably cool and I was just, you know, doing my thing.There I was. Minding my own business.  My routine of sparring in the mornings with the other knights, and then chatting with the Duke of Conwy over lunch, maybe watching the bowmen practice, or reading for a few hours in the library. And then, casually, riding down to the beach to go look for enchanted caves and doing the odd 'reveal' spell and just generally, exploring some sea caves that've been abandoned for thousands of years reading the ancient writing on the wall, aloud, all right fine this situation is 100% my fault, I realize it are you happy?
The time I died, the time I touched a cursed object and got transported hundreds of years in the past, and the time I got an actual dragon trapped in my skin. All taught me nothing, as it happens. Because I had a good time. I have not once had negative consequences of my actions every single horrible thing that happens to me is slightly cooler and more entertaining for me than the last and I personally realize this may be a problem. I am not being deterred.
So anyway. There I was, minding my own business. Diving into sea caves along the rocks that I discovered from an ancient map only I, a wizard, could read, exploring said sea caves and reading the writing on the walls. When I passed out completely and woke up in here surrounded by spirits. As I tell it, it sounds really bad, I get that. But. I got kidnapped. By ghosts! Probably really cool ghosts once they tell me their names!
But I've been gone a week. I know it. I've counted the days. And I'm worried. My friends will be worried. Other than that time he tried to kill me, Dancer is a really loyal, good friend and he'll feel bad. Gareth will be worried about me. And they need me. I'm Wales' chief wizard, Sadie can handle things surely but I don't trust King Henry a bit, and I'd sooner be there, personally, with the dragon. For now the dragon is living in my skin, trapped as I am. It scurries around my shoulders worriedly before settling on my neck. I tried summoning it, but it couldn't get out either.
"I'm sorry. Look, why'd you bring me down here if you don't want to chat or anything?" I sigh, leaning back on my hands. I'm a very patient person. Eventually these ghosts will talk to me. And then they will become my friends. They're just scared yet. I didn't have 'get kidnapped by ghosts' on my Year 11 bingo, but oh well. This is not worse than being at school. In fact, I'm almost having fun.