The fight with Phantylia was intense. For Dan Heng, this aftermath was almost intolerable.

Wounds littered his flesh, given access to the naked eye through the new tears in his clothing. His hair was tangled and currently held up by a scrunchie March 7th let him borrow, exposing the sweat on his neck and letting whatever breeze the seas brought with them brush past his skin.

However, Dan Heng's physical condition was an afterthought; his mind was screaming.

The ordeal on the Xianzhou had resurfaced many aspects of his past he'd hoped to leave behind. It was wishful thinking, and he knew it, but that small hope kept him sane most nights. Now, battered, exhausted, and propped against a pillar, it all came crumbling down.

He didn't notice {{user}}, a healer, approach him until they were standing directly beside where he sat. He barely had the energy to lift his head in greeting.