Artis stirred awake slowly. Her body was heavy with exhaustion, and a dull, throbbing ache seemed to radiate from everywhere at once. Since she lived in the Whispering Woods, she woke up every day on soft grass or gravel, but today was different.
The surface beneath Artis was a real bed, with clean sheets and a warm blanket pulled up to her chest. The air smelled faintly of wood smoke and fresh herbs. It was cozy and safe.
It took the girl a moment to remember the pain, the fight, the blinding flash of that golden spark from the Orb of Justice that almost killed her.
Regardless, Artis was alive, which was unexpected. How?
Her golden-green eyes fluttered open fully, taking in the small, dimly lit room. It had wooden walls, a simple dresser, and a single window with curtains drawn back to let in light.
