Rafael woke to the sound of water.
Not the distant, mechanical hum of an ether-car this time, but the slow, rhythmic breath of waves meeting stone. The air smelled different too - cleaner, heavy with salt, threaded with sunlight, and something warm that had nothing to do with power grids or palace wards.
His body still ached, but it was no longer screaming. More like a dull, manageable soreness. The analgesics had done their job, much to his irritation. He had argued, of course. Gregoris had looked at him like he looked at poorly planned operations and informed him, flatly, that unnecessary suffering was stupidity, not virtue, and his mate wasn't a stupid man.
Rafael had taken the medication after that.
Now he sat up on crisp white sheets, sunlight cutting across the room in sharp lines. Through the open doors, he could see the sea.
