The sun hadn't even cleared the horizon when the floorboards creaked. I didn't need to be fully awake to know who it was; that heavy, rhythmic stride was unmistakable.
"Up, brat. The jungle doesn't wait for the lazy," Roran's voice boomed.
I groaned, pushing the blanket aside.
My body was a map of yellow and purple bruises from yesterday's stones, but as I sat up, I felt a strange lightness.
Last night, I slept while trying to use the Flowing Vessel Art. It's was hard to maintain it and you need proper focus otherwise it didn't really work. My mana felt tight and coiled, no longer leaking out like steam from a broken pipe.
I felt dense, ready.
I got dressed and walked to the main room. Martha had already piled my plate high with eggs and thick bread, just like Roran had ordered. I ate fast, ignoring the way the kids stared at my bruised arms.
Mia was watching me from across the table, her eyes worried, but she did not say anything.
Then we were out the door.
