Time passed, and eventually, Aragon regained consciousness, his eyes fluttering open to reveal the rugged, shadowy expanse of the rocky ceiling above.
The old man, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, inquired, "You awake?"
Aragon slowly turned his gaze towards the old sage, rising to a sitting position and casting his eyes downward, only to discover that his wounds had vanished, leaving behind faint scars as evidence of their existence.
He sat up and noticed that he was bare-chested, he shifted his attention back to the old man, seeking answers. "Where am I?" he inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity.
The old sage, his voice low, replied, "You are in a place far removed from the grasp of humans." Aragon's inquisitive nature persisted as he questioned further, "How did I end up here?"
