Ash was sitting on top of his bed. He was still reflecting over the events of the day before. How long had he been sitting there? How long had he done nothing but being astonished at the short, yet powerful burst of resolve, he had suddenly felt?
Realizing that sitting up to do something was probably for the best, Ash jumped out of bed. His muscles were sore, especially the ones around his back, which had been flogged for hours on end. Thankfully, his back had been patched up and was no longer hurting as much as it could’ve done. Although that was as it was, the young elf couldn’t help but direct a malicious thought at the priests and priestesses, who had done nothing to heal him, even though they could do it much more efficiently than the nuns.
The elf opened the door that led out of his small, dusty, and square room, before proceeding to head down the hall that encompassed all the monks’ lodgings.
The wooden doors that led to each of the rooms were all akin to those you would find in a prison cell. The rooms, too, were very depressing, but no-one complained. After all, they had been taken in by the church, so who could blame them for spending money on mere orphans....