Teclos woke up.
He was leaning against some sort of wall—it was jagged, rough, and deeply unpleasant against his back.
It felt wrong.
He couldn't quite recall what had happened or why he wasn't in his own bed.
The moment he tried to move, however, a massive wave of pain tore through him. Every vein, every muscle, even his skin and bones felt as if they were being ripped apart from the inside.
The pain forced his eyes open, but even that hurt.
They burned—literally burned—and his vision returned in a blurred, unfocused haze.
Somewhere nearby, he heard loud noises… like fighting.
'What? Where am I?'
He tried to feel his surroundings with his darkness—but there was nothing.
Nothing at all.
He didn't even have a speck of mana left. Whatever remained—whatever had replenished—was being used to mend his body, draining away at an alarming rate.
'Wait a second…?'
