Jolthar was lying on a bed in a small room. His eyes fluttered open, his vision hazy as he adjusted to the dimly lit room. His body ached all over, a constant reminder of the ordeal he had just survived. As his vision cleared, the first thing he saw were Eran and Daus, standing near his bedside, their expressions a mix of relief and concern.
He blinked a few times, then smirked. "Well, this is awkward," he rasped, his voice laced with dry humour despite the pain. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were waiting for a romantic confession. Hate to break it to you, but I'm already married... to trouble."
Eran sighed, shaking his head, and let out a chuckle, recognizing Jolthar's unyielding wit even in the direst circumstances.
"You're impossible," Eran muttered, crossing his arms.
