When Eiravyne opened her eyes again, knew that Urag had cast a spell to make her sleep.
Confusion washed over her as she tried to piece together what had happened.
Her lips ached, dry and cracked from long hours of sleep and the exhaustion that had drained her energy.
As her eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings, she noticed she was in a small bedroom, the walls lined with simple wooden panels.
The room had a rustic charm, with soft, worn curtains framing a single window that let in the gentle light of the early morning.
The scent of earth and herbs filled the air, mingling with the faint warmth of the sun that filtered through the glass.
She realized she was lying in a modest bed, its sheets rough but clean, a far cry from the luxuries in the Skivarion castle.
Her body felt heavy, each movement a struggle, as if the very act of sitting up required more effort than she could muster.
