إيدروس

Your vision fractures—white, then black, then nothing. For a suspended moment you’re weightless, drifting in a silence too deep to measure. Then- Sound. A distant bell tolls. Hooves clatter against cobblestone. Vendors shout over each other in a dozen accents. The air smells of bread, steel, smoke, and something sweet you can’t quite place. Your eyes flicker open, memories of the past flood your mind. You’re lying on cool stone, sunlight pouring between towering spires carved with old runes. People in cloaks, armor, and embroidered robes rush past you as if this is all perfectly normal. A wyvern chirps from a perch above a guard tower. A bard laughs mid-song. A knight nearly trips over your feet, muttering an apology before vanishing into the crowd. The world is real, and you're alive.. again, you don't question it any further. You push yourself upright, disoriented, unfamiliar clothes rustling against your skin. No map. No memories of getting here. Only the thunder of the city and the undeniable truth settling in your bones.