Shifting Realities

A painfully continuous throbbing in his head woke Nicolas from the icy grip of unconsciousness that had taken him as a price for disobedience to Xylos.

He blinked, his vision blurry at first, then slowly sharpening to reveal the rough but cozy interior of a small cave. Sunlight entered the safe haven through a single, tiny hole positioned right above his head, casting dancing patterns on the animal skin rugs that covered the floor.

Nicolas tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, forcing him back down. His hand, the one that had channeled Abron's power, throbbed with a dull ache. He winced, his gaze falling on the other occupant of the cave.

The man from yesterday sat hunched over a small fire, a large, blackened leg of some creature roasting over the flames. The pungent smell of roasted meat filled the air, a stark contrast to the sterile coldness of the wasteland.

Nicolas felt his stomach go sick immediately he realized what the man was roasting to serve as food.

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