The smell of freshly brewed tea clung to my nose, alerting my sense of smell first before taste, as I salivated in expectancy of a sip, then finally my sight.
A chandelier.
That was the first thing I saw when I awoke, feeling no urge to get up from where I laid, gazing at the golden brown light reflecting on the ceiling.
A piece of wet cloth was placed on my forehead, probably cold when it was put but now discomfortingly warm as I removed it. The pain I felt, was similar to the sensation from falling from a great height, the mild stinging all over my body continually grew till it numbed my movements temporarily.
"I have got to stop passing out after every fight"
Taking my age and stamina into account, I couldn't really discredit the fact that I was getting tougher after each battle. But it still wasn't a justifiable reason to not find a way to avoid the occurrence.
