Chapter 4
- Xander Jade
- Jun 3
- 4 min read
The thing Tomas Harl couldn’t get over was how fast the wounds closed. On the second morning, he checked the laceration running across Arion’s ribs and found the angry red seam had pinched tight at the edges, the surface already puckered and pink like a month-old scar. By the end of the third day, the gash was just a raised white line, smooth as wax, as if the skin had given up on bleeding and got on with things. The deep gouge in the shoulder, the one Tomas had expected to fester, never even took on a fever. On day five, the crust lifted away in the morning and left a faint brown streak, nothing more.
