20
Firian
Firian suppressed a groan as he woke. His whole body felt sore. The lantern had gone out during the night, leaving the cellar in darkness. A freshness in the air and light seeping down the steps said that it was already morning. How long had he slept?
He rolled to his knees and lit a lantern hanging from the wall for better light to inspect Bard lying beside him. Bard lay on his back with his mouth wide open. The angle of the rolled-up pillow tilted his head to the side. Some color had returned to his face. When he woke, would he be lucid? Would he be able to move his arm? Would he remember anything from the past few days?
Something pressed on the hollow of Firian’s throat when he considered that Bard might not remember their reconciliation. Maybe he would wake up and call Fi
