Day the Fourth, November 8308 L.M
DRAWN TO CONSCIOUSNESS, Will realised that he was lying on his stomach in the softest bed he’d ever been in. He led still for a while, attempting to process his surroundings and to lift himself from the daze that, judging by the numbness in his body, had held him for some time. The bed was king-size, and sheets held him down as straight and rigid as metal. It was as if they were made purposely to restrain him. On the spare side of the bed, his arm was outstretched on the pillows, and just by lifting his head to look up, it cried out in pain. He saw that it was tightly bandaged from his elbow to where his arm met his shoulder, where a circle of red had bloomed like a flower.
Like an itch at the back of his head, he vaguely remembered feeling pain there, a sound like something sharp had punctured something thick; and then sleep. He grit his teeth down on the pain as he twisted around, using his legs to wrestle the sheets free. The room was small, though at the end of the bed were sliding frosted-glass doors, leading into larger quarters. Everything in the room matched one of two colours: cream and dark pink. Even the paraffin lamp lit at the bedside table gave off a pink glow. The room was quiet as if it was the middle of the night, but curtains were drawn over a window on the left side which deposited midday sunlight in a strip on the carpet.
His legs weak, and gripping his right shoulder, Will eased himself from bed and slowly rose. He could only imagine that he was in Anala and Percival’s home, but where were they in it?