Altair had awakened on the fifth day, his mind distorted, burdened by an intense hyperfocus sense of awareness of his surroundings. The pupils of his eyes throbbed with meaning as a vale of knowing shrouded his being.
He could sense the uneven heat of the sun warming Yarwin, turning the low-pressure air into wind. He could feel the light particles, the photons around him, surrounding him, entering through the pores.
He groaned, clutching his head, following the wave of confusion that scattered memories throughout his Astral Sea.
For a brief moment that felt like hours, if not days, the boy groaned, pulling himself together. Sweat bled through his clothing as he stabilized his mind. Yet despite the calm refining the body, the pain continued to lash at his mind.
