At first, there was only sound.
A distant, muffled chatter, voices blurred and indistinct.
Vale lingered between the state of nothingness and a confusion as his mind tried to make sense of what was happening.
Then, his senses stirred. His eyelids fluttered open—his vision was hazy, and shapes shifted in and out of focus.
A dull ache throbbed in his skull. His limbs felt like lead.
Slowly, Vale pushed himself upright, confusion gnawing at his mind as he took in his surroundings.
They were inside some kind of ruin—walls cracked and broken, large chunks missing as if time or something far worse had torn through them. A dim fire flickered at the center, casting wavering shadows against the cold stone. His group sat around it, their faces worn with exhaustion.
Then, one figure moved.
Ayla's sharp eyes caught his.
"Vale?" She was already on her feet, stepping toward him. "You're awake."
His throat felt dry, his thoughts sluggish.
"What… happened?"
