Chapter Eight Hundred And Twenty Nine – 829
Felix smelled pastries.
Warmth came next; a downy heat that smothered his limbs and engulfed the sides of his head, muffling the sounds of gentle rainfall. He opened his eyes, and instead of dust and fire, all he saw were age-worn rafters and a crumbling plaster ceiling. He was in a small, cozy room. A fire crackled in the hearth only feet away, banked to only cherry-red coals and piles of ash, while the distant sound of people talking rumbled through the floorboards.
He was at…an inn? Someone’s house? Felix was tempted to strain his senses to figure it out…but he held back. If he looked, he’d probably have to start moving. Moving felt like a bad idea, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. The sounds below rose and fell like waves, washing against his idle thoughts as he lay there, cradled by the wide bed like a hand made of clouds.
This is nice.
Yet it couldn’t last. An itch wriggled its way into his attention, until Felix could no longer ignore it. He reached for it, brushing his claws against his side before he remembered to flinch in pain—yet the pain wasn’t there.
His vision flashed. The warm solitude broke before blue and gold at the edges of his sight, where notifications all but trembled to be noticed.
Felix sighed. Might as well.
He toggled them open.
Fiendforge is level 123!