Chapter 2: Mark of Verdance: The Healer’s Beginning
A low hum rang in his ears as Elian—no, Caelan now—opened his eyes slowly. The world around him was blurred for a moment, colors swirling like melting paint until they came into focus. He lay on a hard wooden bed, covered in rough sheets. The room smelled of burning incense and old dust. Clay pots rested on shelves, and the floor creaked beneath the weight of silence.
He sat up.
His fingers brushed across his body—thin, worn, clothed in tattered rags. He stood and stumbled slightly. Every limb felt weak. He caught sight of a dented metallic plate by the window. Something about it made him stop.
He turned back slowly, looking into the reflection.
He touched his face.
"My face is... different," he whispered. His fingers ran along his jaw, up to his eyes, across his lips. He smirked. "This is nice... The Gods really are something, aren’t they?"
Just then, the wooden door creaked open.
A young woman walked in, her eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, you’re awake already!"
Caelan blinked. Who is she?
She set a wooden bowl on the table, her voice soft. "Are you hungry? You’ve been asleep for a whole week."
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice raw.