Monar felt trapped in a strange limbo that dragged him alongside the distant whispers of the primordial demon he had summoned that day.
He breathed heavily, finally waking from his sleep. A damp towel rested over the eyes he no longer had, and he was covered with the pelts of various animals.
Four days had already passed since the battle against the anchor of the curse.
"Wha... Where am I?" the dark elf wondered.
Beside him, seated on a piece of rubble and peacefully reading a book, Aslan raised his head.
"So you've finally awakened, Lord Monar. My congratulations. You are currently in one of the ruined houses within the Kingdom of Axorhibis."
"Uhh... That voice... Is that you, Aslan?"
The old man nodded.
"It is. It's been a long time since we last shared a drink at the tavern. I'm glad you've awakened. How are you feeling?"
