Lost magic! This is a punishment

Another morning, once more. Aelorin let out an exasperated sigh, the sound echoing faintly in the sparse room. As he shifted, a loud creak pierced the silence—not from the bed, but his back.

"Damn these beds are so uncomfortable!" he grumbled, raising his hands in frustration. He slammed his fist down on the mattress in protest, only to yelp in pain as his knuckles met a surface as unyielding as stone.

"What the hell is this made of? Granite?" he muttered, nursing his aching hand. The bed felt like it was designed to break spirits and spines in equal measure. His eyes scanned the shabby room with disdain. Every crack in the walls, every uneven floorboard mocked him. This was a far cry from the lavish comforts of his home.

Home… The thought tugged at his heart.