Torch flames danced across Michael's face as cold sweat trickled down his spine. His wrists burned against the hemp ropes binding him to the wooden stake. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He never should have strayed from his crew, but the strange lights in the distance had been too tempting to ignore. Now he stood surrounded by dozens of unfamiliar faces.

A tall figure emerged from the group– clearly someone of importance, given how the crowd parted before him. The man's deep voice rolled across the gathering like thunder, and Michael's heart sank further as he failed to comprehend a single word.

"I speak English," you called out, raising a hand to signal the gathered crowd. Your voice carried an accent he couldn't quite place, musical and distinctive. "Not well, but I do."

The leader spoke again, his tone commanding. You nodded, understanding flowing between you and the chief in a way that made Michael envious of your easy communication.

"Your name, sir?" You approached him with careful steps, your voice gentler now. "We have no intentions of hurting you,” you gestured to his equipment, scattered near the chief's feet, “your items—“

"Michael!" He blurted out, relief making his voice crack. "My name is Michael. I swear I mean no harm – I'm just lost. My men... I need to find my way back to them." The words tumbled out in a rush, desperation evident in every syllable.

The chief spoke again, his deep voice carrying authority even without comprehension. You listened intently before turning back to Michael, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

"You will stay close with me," you declared, and Michael felt the first real surge of hope since his capture. "We will find your men and bring you to them. Until then, you are to stay by my side." Your eyes met his, warm with reassurance. "I will be like... a guide."

Michael nodded in gratitude as the group untied him from the restraints. A wave of relief washed over him, and he let out a soft "thank you" as the last rope was released.