My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy 97 Bed-Ridden

Jack's consciousness slowly clawed itself back awake, with his senses gradually trickling in until he was able to get his bearings and open his eyes.

He lay on a bed in what looked like a cave, lit by flickering firelight. He was burning up with heat, and felt himself soaked with sweat. Feverish, even. He tried to sit up and get some idea of his surroundings, but as soon as he did so, numerous points on his body screamed out in pain, and he dropped back to the soft bed surface with a groan.

Well, he wasn't dead. At least, not that he could tell. He had a hard time believing he could pa.s.s into oblivion without Frumpkin first making him feel like a complete moron, and considering the deity's absence, that made him lucky? Unlucky? He wasn't sure which it was at this point. But he was glad to still be breathing regardless.

Looking at the ceiling, at least, he was definitely in the same cave system they'd slept in before. Which meant either Farien or Urien were lending him their bed.

That meant they'd won the battle. They'd won, and he hadn't died. If he wasn't about to pa.s.s out from the pain, he'd probably pat himself on the back. This would, by his estimation, be the first thing he'd managed to do right without in some way s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g it up.

He felt a twinge of pride. Maybe there was a chance he could finally do something right after all.

A few moments after he flopped back onto the bed, someone walked into the room he was residing in, as evidenced by footsteps on wooden boards and the sound of swis.h.i.+ng fabric. He turned his head to see a young, dark-haired woman in a green dress, maybe in her late teens or early twenties, carrying a small leather satchel as she crossed the room. Noticing that he was awake, she smiled brightly and set the satchel down beside the bed.

"Oh good! You've finally come to. I was starting to get worried about you." She said, sitting down on a wooden stool beside his bed and pulling the leather satchel into her lap. "It's good to see that you're on the mend. We had a scary few hours there at the beginning."

"I suppose I have you to thank for not being dead." Jack said. "Thanks."

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"Well, not just me. Farien and a couple others in this camp also helped with the tending and the healing. But yes, I helped." The woman said with a smile as she reached into the satchel and pulled out a roll of linen and a couple brown gla.s.s bottles.

"What's your name?" Jack asked, trying to s.h.i.+ft onto his side. After a moment of trying, he gave up. There was no chance he was going to find a position that was going to be in the slightest bit comfortable that way. Not with the pain from the spear wound in his ribs.

"Abigail. I'm one of the healers for the Green Company." She said, inspecting the bottles one by one before selecting one and setting the rest on the ground beside her. "Now, lie still. I need to take a look at your wounds and replace some dressings."

"Sure thing." He said, flopping his head back onto the pillow. Abigail stood up and gingerly pulled the furs covering him down. As she did so, he glanced down to see that he was naked, outside of a myriad of bandages covering his arms, torso, and leg.

He instinctively went to cover himself, but Abigail just looked at him and shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I've seen more of those than I can remember since I started tended to the sick and wounded. I don't even notice anymore. Now, hands at your side, please."