Nefretiri
"Stop screaming," I groan, putting my free hand on my forehead. "I'm not dead."
I wasn't, but I felt like it. My whole body ached, and unlike when I did die, it wasn't like waking up from a long sleep. This was more like being thrown into an ice bath, which isn't the most pleasant experience. Yet, I could move, and the imbalance in my head seemed to have settled some. Hel couldn't do much more than lie there, exhausted from her fight with Klytios.
She'd protected me from the truth for as long as she could, but now I had no choice but to deal with the fallout. All of this was my fault, and I could lie here and feel bad about it, or I could do something to fix it. It seemed like an easy choice, but that was the catch. The mess I was currently in was so big it could fill an Olympic-sized pool and still run over. Did I believe I was the only one responsible for everything? No, but I had to clean up the mess I'd caused without running away.
