Alex's consciousness flickered back like a candle catching a flame, the haze of pain and darkness slowly receding. He blinked, his vision sharpening as he took in his surroundings.
The room was stark white, bathed in the soft glow of enchanted orbs floating near the ceiling, their light casting gentle shadows across rows of neatly made beds.
The faint scent of healing herbs, lavender and moonpetal, hung in the air, mingling with the sterile tang of polished stone.
He was in the academy clinic, no doubt about it. The pristine walls, the soft hum of magical wards, and the cushioned bed beneath him confirmed it.
His body ached, a dull throb pulsing from his stomach where the moonshade-poisoned crystal had struck, but he was alive, somehow.
His gaze drifted, landing on familiar faces. Sylra was still at his side, her blonde hair falling in disheveled strands across her tear-streaked face, her golden eyes glistening with a mix of relief and something fiercer.
