[Mithadan]

Mithadan passed from dreams of horror to a light, restful sleep. Then, at last, his eyes flickered open. He was in a dim room with ceiling and walls made of dark, carved wood. Light streamed in from a single porthole, but the lantern at the bedside table was unlit. He attempted to rise and received a sharp pain in his chest in reward. Turning to his side, he pulled his arm under him and gingerly lifted himself to a sitting position. While waiting for his head to clear, he inspected his surroundings. Across from the bed stood a table with neatly folded clothing resting on it. He realized that his chest was bare except for neat rows of bandages encircling his torso. He blinked and attempted with difficulty to recall the events of the past several days. Then he noticed a bright breastplate hanging on the wall, scored and scorched in its center, and the memories came flooding back.

He rose carefully and slowly pulled a shirt on. Walking to the porthole, he observed Piosenniel swimming and diving. Then he walked to the door, half expecting that it would be locked against him...