Chapter 2: A Body Of Unfamiliar
The thick scent of herbal smoke danced in the air, curling past cobwebbed stone and woven tapestries. Elric groaned.
He opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him wasn't plaster or concrete. It was old wood, raw and uneven, beams held together with straw and ancient craftsmanship. Birds chirped outside. Somewhere nearby, water dripped slowly—rhythmically—like a leaking pipe. But he knew this wasn't a hospital.
His hands moved first, sluggish and foreign. Smaller. Softer. Slimmer?
He jolted upright.
"Agh!" A shock ran down his spine as pain burst from his shoulder. His vision swam, but he steadied his breathing.
"Four ribs, cracked. Dislocated left shoulder—already set. Mild dehydration. Whoever treated me... wasn't a complete idiot," he muttered.
Then he looked down at himself.
The hands weren't just slim—they were not his. This body was young. Barely adult. A mirror on the wall showed a pale-skinned boy with sharp green eyes and black hair tousled like a crow's nest. His chest bore faint scars and an odd birthmark near the heart. Familiar, somehow.