[The Morning After]
[Location: Class F Dormitory – Alaric's Room]
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The alarm clock on the bedside table screamed, signalling 6:00 AM.
Alaric groaned. His body felt wonderfully, terrifyingly heavy.
It was the sensation of sleeping under a weighted blanket made of lead.
He reached out a hand to silence the alarm, not even opening his eyes.
CRUNCH.
Alaric's eyes snapped open.
The alarm clock was gone. In its place was a flat, sparking pancake of gears and springs embedded an inch deep into the wood of the nightstand.
"Oh no," Alaric whispered.
He sat up. The bedframe groaned ominously.
He looked at the corner of the room. Leaning against the wall was his trusty iron sword.
Or rather, what was left of it. It was bent at a forty-five-degree angle, the metal stressed and cracked from the fight with the Boar. It was useless.
Next to it sat a standard-issue Wooden Practice Sword he had borrowed from the gym.
