When Nheera finally woke, her eyes felt unbearably dry and itchy, but that, as she would soon come to realize, was the least of her problems. Though she was awake, her thoughts remained sluggish and unfocused, her mind clouded by a thick haze that made it difficult to think clearly.
Barely lucid, she struggled to take stock of her surroundings. She was lying on a thin cot placed directly on the cold floor of a dimly lit space. The air around her was damp and stale, carrying a foul scent that made her stomach churn faintly.
The only source of light came from high above her, a small opening carved into the thick stone wall, barely wide enough for her head to fit through. Pale sunlight filtered weakly through it, casting a narrow beam across the room and doing little to push back the shadows that clung stubbornly to every corner.
