“What the hell…” Hadjar couldn’t believe his own eyes.
He was staring at his hands, marveling at how they’d changed compared to what he’d grown used to over the past decade. There weren’t any scabs, nor were there any abscesses or gray scars—only clean, healthy, dark skin that was covered in short, black hair.
He then tossed his blanket aside. He didn’t spare a thought about how it had even appeared there in the first place.
With tears in his eyes, Hadjar wiggled his toes. The man now had strong, long legs. He bent his knees and, laughing while he cried, fell back on the bed.
He spent nearly a quarter of an hour laughing hysterically. The laughter only died down toward the end of it, leaving him sobbing quietly.
“South Wind,” Hadjar said in a low whisper.
His teacher had given his li
