Bab 49: MADE FROM DUST

Caspian groaned as he sat up. He had his palm on his temple softly caressing it in hopes of rubbing the fog of his mind away. 

He could barely see a thing blind-sighted by the scorching sun that burned tirelessly above. 

Inky black fingers stained his face as he raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. The light danced in his glistening ruby eyes.

"Where am I?"

He muttered, confused and disoriented. The last thing he could remember was falling into a freezing lake. 

'Had I died?'

He had his doubts but that was the only thing that could explain the scorching sun. The Torn mountains gave no leeway for the sun, which left it as a desolate freezing hellscape. 

His sight settled in not long after, and when he finally took a good look around Caspian's mouth couldn't stay closed.