Luca lay in bed, a scowl on his face, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
"No one told me anything. Not about the consequences, not about the time, nothing."
His mind ran wild with guesses.
"Three days? Four? Surely not more than five, right? Please not more than five..."
The white ceiling above offered no answers. The sterile infirmary smelled of herbs and magic-infused ointments, too clean for his liking.
The hours passed slowly until golden afternoon light spilled through the window.
Just then, the door creaked open, and the healer stepped in with a clipboard floating beside him. He glanced over Luca and gave a small, satisfied nod.
"Hmm. Your condition is improving. That's good," he said, gently adjusting the mana-monitoring bracelet around Luca's wrist.
Luca leaned forward slightly. "When can I leave?"
