The Scepter of Arándelis and The Lost Kingdom

5. Do you trust me?

Alsan awoke to the warmth of sunlight streaming through the window. He blinked several times, disoriented. He tried to sit up, but the weight in his head made him give up, and he sighed in resignation. That's when he noticed something hanging from his arm: an IV.

"Where...?"

The room was white and sterile. He looked to one side and saw a machine. On the other side, a drip with some medication hanging from it. He was in a hospital. Squinting his eyes, he tried to get a closer look at what they were giving him, but just then, a nurse walked in with a kind smile.

"Goodness gracious! You're awake. Good morning."

Alsan frowned, confused, unable to reply immediately. English? He tried to recall what had happened before he lost consciousness: the portal, the park, the chase, the kerb... and there he was.

"No..." he mumbled, trying to remember."Where... I be?"

Without losing her smile, the nurse nodded sympathetically and left the room. Shortly after, a man with a white coat, brown hair, and hazel eyes entered.

"How are you feeling?"

Alsan's eyes widened in surprise. He understood him.

"Do you... speak Danish?"

The doctor smiled as he approached the bed and sat at the edge.

"I can speak several languages, yes. They called me because the nurse noticed you didn't speak English. Now, tell me, how do you feel?"

Alsan nodded, still baffled.

"I think I'm fine... Where am I?"

"You're at The Princess Grace Hospital in London," replied the doctor, standing up. "Do you mind if I check the wound on your head?"

The boy hesitated for a moment but finally agreed. The same nurse was called back and carefully removed the bandage from his head. The doctor blinked in surprise when he saw that there was no trace of the wound. He sent the nurse out and, staying alone with Alsan, nodded slowly.

"Everything seems in order," he said carefully. "According to the police report, they found you disoriented in Regent's Park. Apparently, you fled and hit your head on a kerb. The wound seems to have healed... but I still want to run an MRI to make sure there's no internal brain damage. We did a CT scan when you arrived, but there's something I'd like to examine more closely. It's nothing bad, just precautionary. Do you remember anything from that night?"

Alsan tried to concentrate, but his mind was foggy. He barely recalled any clear details. Alsan noticed the necklace hanging from his neck, with a small stone at its centre.

"Are you listening to me, lad?" asked the doctor.

"Sorry..." Alsan snapped out of his thoughts. "I don't remember much. Just blurry images..."

"I see. Now that you're awake, do you remember your name? You had no ID on you."

"Aiden," he said quickly, improvising. "Aiden Heiling."

"Pleased to meet you, Aiden. Do you know the phone number of any family member we can contact to let them know you're okay or...?"

Alsan shook his head slowly.

"That's alright. The police will come by after your scan to take your statement and try to locate your family through your name or fingerprints. They'll notify them that you're fine, alright? Try to rest now. They'll take you for the scan in the afternoon, and I'll come by tomorrow to discuss the results with you, okay?"

"Yes, thank you for everything."

"No problem, Aiden. See you tomorrow."

As soon as the doctor left the room, Alsan collapsed onto the bed. Exhaustion and hunger weighed heavily on him. But he couldn't afford to stay there. He had given a false name, and if his real identity came up when they took his fingerprints—or worse, if something linked him to the events in Sunnydays—he could be in real trouble. If he told the truth, he would probably end up institutionalised.