Can You Tell Me Who I Am

The hobbit didn't know what hit him. His brain felt as if it was on fire and there was nothing he could do to put it out. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs, to shake the feeling like he was wandering down a long dark tunnel.

He brought his stubby hands to his face; they felt numb, as if he had fallen asleep on them. His brain still felt like some kind of spell was trying to confuse him. Maybe that was what was happening.

The hobbit staggered from the dizziness; he really didn't know what was going on. He thought he had heard a voice whisper in his ear, and since then it felt as if some spellcaster had entrapped him somehow.

"No, that's not it," the voice whispered softly in his ear. 

The voice seemed familiar but he couldn't place it. He figured it was one of his companions playing a trick on him. But they were all in plain sight. Maybe one of them was throwing their voice, so he watched their faces.

"You okay, Virian?" the gentle fighter known as Amber asked.

"Virian. Is that my name?" the hobbit muttered. "Virian. No..."

Am I Virian? the hobbit thought to himself. I think so.

Amber stood beside him. She took out her waterskin and handed it to him. A look of concern crossed her face like a shadow from a tree.

"Thanks, Mags," the hobbit said.

"Amber," the warrior corrected him. "And who is this Mags?"

"I don't know," the hobbit said. A more puzzled look crept across his face. "Am I being played?"