In the dark cave, ghostly shadows flickered, and the dim firelight cast everything inside in a layer of bleak and indistinct shadows.
Three bonfires stood in a triangle formation, and Nidesar was seated cross-legged in the middle of them.
Before the flickering orange-red flames, Nidesar nearly pressed his entire body against the fire, yet he felt no warmth at all.
The bone-chilling cold emanated from within, regardless of the summer, and even though the cave felt as hot as a sauna, he still felt unbearably cold.
He shivered, and a strange gray layer appeared beneath his once copper-colored skin.
His robust muscles deflated, with the stretched skin sagging and folding together.
The wound on his chest squirmed, a masterpiece by a Salvation Army Long Spearman to confirm safety on the battlefield.
In the past, within these three days, his wound should have healed completely.
Yet until now, there was no sign of recovery.
