For several minutes, Ollie hung suspended in darkness, tormented by the lingering pain of his horrific wounds and the sight of Lord Owain standing over him with a mocking smile on his lips as his blade pierced Ollie's chest.
Slowly, at a pace that felt much, much slower than any of his previous recoveries, the blackness faded away, leaving Ollie's body restored, though his clothing had been replaced by the simple tunic and breeches that he'd worn in the real world when he first began his vigil.
"Well, Ollie," Ashlynn's voice called out while the aspiring knight and witch shook and trembled on the ground of the blood-soaked battlefield. "Do you accept your results as the best outcome you could achieve?"
