Lugh's sight was still blurry, the world around him a swirling haze of shifting light and shadows. Through the fog in his mind, he saw a figure. One he had longed for over the past decade.
"Mum...?"
Then, clarity returned. The illusion shattered as his vision sharpened, and the pain hit him all at once. His ribs ached with every shallow breath.
It wasn't his mother, it was Lyra.
gods, how embarrassing.
He tried to stand, but her voice came down firm and unyielding.
"Don't move."
He exhaled sharply and let his body relax.
"What about the others?"
Lugh asked, his voice hoarse.
It was only then that Lyra realized, to her dismay, that she hadn't even thought about them.
"Oh, uh..."
She began awkwardly, her eyes glancing around.
"They're... alive?"
"Yeah, I'm still here"
A broken voice cut through the silence.
Renshaw lay sprawled on the floor, pulling out a small metal flask of hard liquor. He gulped down the contents, then immediately shivered in pain.
