I could slowly feel my mind returning to my body, one bone at a time. My eyes were closed and I still felt half immersed in the hazy dream world I had been occupying for who knows how long. My fingers moved a few centimetres when I willed them to, but other than that, my body was still disconnected from me. I was effectively deaf on top of barely feeling my own limbs. It was a situation I’d found myself on several occasions throughout the years, though in times past I had always possessed more crystals to ease myself back into the world of the living. This time, I would have to deal with the consequences of my regrettable decisions all on my own.

I lay there for minutes or hours, gradually feeling parts of my body falling back under my control. To my chagrin, I could now feel a cold, hard wall of some description behind me, one particular outcropping digging into my back painfully. I wished I could alleviate the pain in my back, but I wasn’t ready to move just yet. I registered that I had been sitting on the ground, on cold, wet stone. I let my hands feel the surface beneath me, ever so slowly making out flagstones, worn so much they were almost too smooth to be recognized as such. I could also feel the water in the gaps between the stones, slowly being filled by yet more water coming from somewhere else. Yes, that would explain the annoying sensation of weak tapping against my hands, my feet and parts of my face: it was raining. And I was cold.

Very slowly, I opened my eyes, blinking a few times at the light and rain, and took in my surroundings: I lay on the side of a narrow street, curled awkwardly against a wall. Next to me a dirty, crooked set of stairs led to the entry of one of the buildings, casting me in shadow and providing meagre cover from the downpour. I could see the odd person hastily making their way past me, though nobody spared me more than a glance. It must’ve been on account of the cloak I was covered in: a grey, tattered thing I didn’t recognize, that must have made me look like a common inhabitant of the streets. While I was glad I had somehow acquired a cloak to cover my identity, I was less impressed at the loss of my boots. With my feet sticking out from the cloak the way they did, I had a good idea what must have happened to them: most likely, somebody had recognized the value of my footwear and decided to relieve me of their weight. I counted myself fortunate that they didn’t take anything else: most notably my life.

My hazy mind kept wandering, remembering inconsequential scenes of my past, going round and round. It took all of my focus to stay in the present. Eventually, I managed to pull myself into a more upward position at least; my back thanked me profusely. I sat there for a while longer, though it was exceedingly hard to keep track of time in my current mental state. All things considered, I didn’t even feel particularly bad. I felt removed from reality though, and couldn’t muster much interest in leaving and finding a safer, warmer place to stay. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware things would get a lot worse once my body realized there were no more crystals left to consume. Even this thought felt abstract and far away, however.

At some point, my hearing returned to an almost normal level: I could hear the bustle of people in the distance, a horse drawn carriage passing by a street over, the odd shout, and the constant tapping of the heavy rain around me. The rain hadn’t let off at all, and ever so slowly the cold managed to rouse me out of my dissociated state. Even the comfort of the drug induced haze couldn’t hold a candle against the terrible coldness that had permeated the entirety of my body without my notice. At some point I had curled up on the ground, wrapping the soaked through cloak around my body for a semblance of warmth, though without success. I groaned and slowly stretched my arms out. They still felt numb, though it felt good to finally move them again. Lazily, I stood up, almost slipping on the wet flagstones in the process.

Standing didn’t feel particularly great: I swayed noticeably, my balance and sight feeling very off. I had no more time to waste on this street, however. I steadied myself on the closest wall, pulled the cloak further over my head and slowly made my way down the smooth paved road. I caught a few disgusted glimpses from passers-by, but paid them little mind. I doubted anyone would suspect the emperor’s killer to be clothed like a beggar, staggering through the streets of the imperial capital; anonymity would keep me safe for a while, I figured. I was glad for my disguise when I passed the first troop of guards, stomping through the rain in their clanking armour, looking around as if in search of something.

Stolen novel; please report.

When I reached the end of the narrow street I’d been walking down, it slowly dawned on me that I was completely lost and had no idea where to even go from here – both in the short term and the long term. I moved from one street to the next in a daze, no destination in mind, watching the people go about their business from the shadows of my tattered cloak. There was little foot traffic due to the heavy rain, but the people looked harried to me, even considering the awful downpour. I’d probably look that way too, were I to live under the reign of a genocidal demon, I told myself. I just wished they'd do something about the terrible smell; I deigned not to think about where it came from.

The roads began to angle downwards ever so slightly, and the further down I followed the winding alleys, the more run down the houses around me became, and the more ragged the people around me looked. Most of the alleys weren't paved in this part of town and I almost slipped on the muddy ground a few times, but kept on walking: I needed to find a dry, preferably warm, place to stay. I started scanning the buildings around me for a suitable place to hunker down for a while, but couldn't make out anything of use.

And so it went for what felt like hours: I stumbled through the alleys of the imperial capital, watching the streets become more dirty and run down the farther I went, all the while I kept being soaked to the bone by the icy cold rain. I hadn't reached the outer city walls just yet, but there was no way in hell I could cross them anyways in my current state. And even if I could: without a decent supply of crystals, my situation would only become so much worse out in the wilds. I would have to ride out the aftereffects of my healing in the city and find a supplier before I could start my journey back home.

As I walked down another narrow alley, I finally found what I'd been looking for: a pile of rubble. Well, I wasn't as interested in the pile of rubble itself as I was interested in its origin. I let my eyes wander upwards, from the collection of broken beams, rocks and mortar to the second storey of a house that was now partially open to the elements. Parts of the corner of the dwelling had broken off some time ago, and nobody had bothered to repair the damage, which suited me just fine. It was a simple house, but obviously old and in severe disrepair, going by the strong smell of rotten wood, and, well, the missing piece of wall. I could be sure that the former inhabitants wouldn't mind me breaking in; after all, somebody had gone to the trouble of barricading the narrow entry with two sturdy wooden boards.

Luckily, time itself had kindly provided a new entrance for me, I just had to find a way to get to it. I looked again toward the broken-off corner of my new home: being at second story height made this a bit of a problem in my current condition, but I'd just have to try. I took a few steps back and without further thought started running, intending to make a mighty leap for safety. I ended up face down in the mud, to my dismay. I coughed and sputtered and rubbed my face until my sight was clear once again before I sat up and heaved myself off the ground, leaving a me-sized imprint in the mud, and a mud-sized imprint on all of me. Well, no feats of great athleticism for the foreseeable future, it seemed. I stood there for a bit, looking around to make sure nobody had watched me fling myself into the dirt. Luckily it seemed, peculiar noises and even more peculiar people were seemingly not out of the ordinary in this part of town, and so the alley was still abandoned.

I walked up to my new home again and took another glance at the missing piece of wall: part of the beam holding up the wall had somehow broken off, taking with it a good amount of the load it had carried. Even the roof had a bit of a sag to it, which was definitely concerning. The roof had held up this far though, so I was hopeful it wouldn't fall on my head anytime soon. Before I could think about it any further, I hopped up as far as I could manage and grabbed for the exposed second storey flooring. I just about managed to gain enough height, but slipped on the wet, rotting wood and some of the remaining pieces of masonry followed me back down into the mud. I sat there for a good few seconds, groaning, before I swiped pieces of stone and mortar out of my hair and tried again.

This time, I managed to keep hold of the ledge for long enough to slowly heave myself upwards. Half way through, however, the strength of my arms began to wane under the strain of pulling up my own body weight. I couldn't give up, though - I was sure I wouldn't have the strength to try a second time - and so I willed myself to power through the pain in my arms and kept at it. Just as I felt my hands slip yet again, I managed to get one leg up onto the ledge and rolled myself over into the relative safety of my new home.

I felt the rotten wood under me strain precariously, so I quickly crawled away from the exposed part of the room onto somewhat dry ground. Struggling for breath, I heaved in the precious air and stretched out my strained limbs in the darkness of my new home. At least I was finally out of the rain.