The morning came quietly.
Lucavion stirred before the first false rays of dawn broke through the fabricated heavens, his senses pulling him from the deep, almost unnatural sleep he had fallen into. His eyes opened without urgency, black irises cutting through the thin mist that clung low across the Sanctuary's floor.
He inhaled.
The air was different. Richer, somehow. It soaked into his lungs like silk, leaving a faint, vibrating sharpness along the edges of his ribs. His body felt... good. Not just rested, but tuned. Balanced to a degree he hadn't realized was possible.
He sat up slowly, feeling no stiffness, no lingering fatigue. The shallow cuts across his arms and neck were already healed, new skin faintly pink where there had been blood only hours before.
'A healing enchantment,' he thought, noting the faint pulse of energy that clung to his skin like a second, invisible coat. 'Subtle, but thorough.'
