Tunde felt his mouth taste like ash and stale wine as he groaned, eyes fluttering open. He lay on a wooden floor, watching the clouds go by as he struggled to sit up, breathing slowly, his very movements hurting his ribs. Glancing down at the bandage that wrapped his entire chest down to his waist, he touched it gently, feeling a soft spongy substance below the white linen used to wrap him up.
He blinked a few times, his mind catching up to what had happened before he passed out, “I won” he thought to himself, the words as unbelieving to him as he whispered out. The wooden door to the room he was in opened as a woman carrying fresh folded bandages paused, eyes wide as she hastily bowed.
“This humble one greets the dark fist,” she said, her voice trembling but loud.
A spatter of footsteps from beyond whatever room he was in announced others as Elyria burst in, eyes wide, behind her Isolde, Draven, Harun, and Giselle.
“you’re awake,” Elyria said with an astonished expression.