'I think I've seen this ceiling more times than I should have.'
The infirmary was just as he remembered it. White stone walls. Soft, floating lights. The sharp scent of healing herbs and mana-soaked gauze. His usual bed. His usual exhaustion.
Somehow, this place had started to feel like a second dorm.
Footsteps approached.
"Hey, Noel," a familiar voice said dryly. "What did you tell me less than a month ago?"
He turned his head slowly, blinking through the haze. The nurse stood by his bed, arms crossed.
"I said… I'd take care of myself and try not to give you more work."
"Good. So your brain still functions," she muttered. "Honestly, I don't know how you're still alive. Who in their right mind drinks something that toxic?"
Noel blinked. "Toxic? What are you talking about?"
She stared at him for a beat. Then rolled her eyes.
"Let's just leave it at that."
"Thanks," he said. Then frowned slightly. "Uh… sorry, what was your name again?"
