Chapter 13 – The Forgotten Tongue
The first breath that filled his lungs wasn't air—it was fire. A sweet, searing heat surged down his spine, and his eyelids fluttered open. The wooden ceiling above him was the same, but everything else felt different: lightness, strength... renewal. William sat up slowly, feeling the brush of sheets against his skin as if for the first time. No pain. No wounds. Only a strange humming in his chest.
"Angel... what happened?"
His voice sounded rough, almost foreign. A short silence followed before the familiar female voice responded in his mind.
"You've been unconscious for six hours. Your body was on the verge of collapse... multiple fractures, internal bleeding... Even with my assistance accelerating your healing, no normal human should've survived."
William leaned back against the headboard, staring at his arms—now perfectly intact.
"So... what happened?"
"Someone poured an unknown liquid into your mouth while you slept. It acted immediately. I scanned the residue on your lips, but... I could only identify one ingredient: bitter peaches."
He frowned.
"Just one?"
"Yes. I estimate it contains at least six active components, but the others are unknown. This goes beyond modern medicine. It's... magical."
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. It didn't open right away, as if whoever was behind it hesitated. Finally, his companions entered—Dixon in front, followed by Theo, Cedric, and Thom. No one spoke at first. They just looked at him, a mix of recognition and respect in their eyes. The air was thick, heavy with unspoken things.