His consciousness rose as if from a pitch-black Deep Sea, gradually breaking free from the bonds of chaos.
His hearing returned first.
The pitter-patter of rain, steady and rhythmic, beat against a nearby wooden structure.
From downstairs came the faint clatter of cups and plates, muffled and low conversation, and the unique, reassuring crackle of firewood Burning in a hearth.
These sounds wove together, forming a backdrop that was both familiar and strange.
A tavern.
'I'm upstairs in a tavern.'
Next, his sense of smell awakened.
The air was filled with the faint musty smell of damp, old wood, the slightly sour aroma of aged ale, and the greasy scent of some kind of root vegetable and cheap meat stewed for a long time, wafting up from downstairs.
All of this confirmed his guess about the tavern.
However, mixed in with these scents, there also seemed to be an extremely faint, yet crisp and stable… sense of Energy?
