Kael twitched his fingers, and then his eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, he stared blankly at the ceiling, not fully awake yet. It was bright white.
Kael blinked a few more times, trying to make sense of where he was.
His head throbbed—nothing sharp, but a dull pain settled deep behind his eyes, like he had just woken from a strange, distant dream he couldn't remember. He slowly turned his head, the stiff movement reminding him that his body was sore.
The sheets beneath him were smooth and clean. He could smell something faint in the air—a mix of herbal medicine and fresh linen, the kind of scent found only in a healing ward.
"This… is the infirmary?," he thought to himself.
"…Where… am I?"
His voice was hoarse.
He tried to sit up but winced. His limbs were sore, muscles stiff as if he hadn't moved in days. Just then, a cool touch landed on his forehead.
"You're finally awake."
He turned his head slightly.
