☀️ Arselia and Akonia

A few moments later, Garrett's consciousness once again plunged into darkness. The princess retreated to tend to her wounds and instructed her servant, Klin, to brief the newcomer when he regained consciousness.

—It shall be done, Your Highness. —Klin said, performing a familiar, rehearsed bow.
Along with the other nameless lackeys, they settled the newly summoned hero in his designated resting place. With visible indifference, he assessed the appearance of yet another hero, for whose sake the poor princess had torn her delicate hands. Fortunately, the local healers were competent, otherwise, people of both high and low standing might have begun to harbor strange suspicions.
The newcomer was quite unlike the others he had observed at the villa. Was he from the same world, or a similar one? What purpose did it serve to cast him out from the embrace of the local gods into the chains of this new realm? No, dark thoughts crept into his mind that the summoning ritual worked randomly. And how useful to his mistress's plans would these random vagrants and brigands with the skulls of their victims be, when one could find more reliable and easier recruits even in our wretched reality?

While awaiting the awakening of the esteemed guest, Klin assumed a pose of silent meditation on the floor near the entrance.