Roxy woke up with a gasp.
She expected to feel the jagged rocks of the riverbed. She expected the crushing weight of the water in her lungs. She expected the agonizing burn of drowning.
Instead, she felt... soft.
Her fingers curled, gripping fabric that felt like silk, cool and impossibly smooth.
Roxy opened her eyes.
Above her, there was no sky. There was no grey cloud cover of the Iron-Wood, nor the wooden beams of her Master Suite. There was only rock, dark, jagged stone that glittered with veins of bioluminescent blue moss.
She blinked, trying to clear the blur from her vision. The light was dim, ethereal, and aquamarine, casting rippling shadows across the walls.
She tried to sit up.
"Gah!"
A sharp pain radiated from her ribcage, stealing her breath. She gasped, clutching her side. The movement told her two things: she was alive, and she was definitely broken.
"Easy," she whispered to herself, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet space.
