Awakening was a struggle, swimming up from depths unknown into a shot of sunlight, piercing from the round window above his bed. Rakhanar’s back stung in streaks and the sheet clung as he groaned and sat up slowly. An ache down his left side twisted him. He grimaced, slapped his palm to his side and brought it up to peer at it. It came away bloody. Nausea churned in his gut.
What in the world? Was I in a battle?
His brain resisted him, stubborn; the memory of the night before hiding from him like a relentless assassin.
Wait… I didn’t go back to Crushbone Keep, I went to the hall. He closed his eyes, tight, and bit his lip. It all came back in a rush, up to the point where the world went black.
Opening his eyes, he snapped his head to the side and plunged a hand into the tangled mass of sheets beside him. They were blood-stained. He was alone.
Rakhanar stared, in shock. Ye gods, what did I do?
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Wizard of Wildfire & Shadow Walker Wordsmith ((a/k/a The Real Me ))