Zafron felt the warm air in the room against his skin as his eyes slowly blinked open.
He scanned his surroundings, disoriented at first, but soon recognized the familiar confines of his own bedroom.
Carefully, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, surprised to find that he didn't feel any dizziness or pain. Glancing down, he noticed the ligatures on his skin, remnants of the injuries he had sustained.
Curious, Zafron stood up, his brow furrowing as he realized he was shirtless. Stepping over to the mirror in the corner, he examined his reflection more closely.
The deep gash on his forehead that he remembered from last night was now nothing more than a faint, almost disappearing scar.
He grazed his fingers over the wound, marveling at the body's remarkable healing process.
Moving his hand to the injury on his abdomen, he was equally surprised to find that the pain had subsided completely.
