Somewhere, a distant tide crashed upon the shore. Qua’ Jon was vaguely aware of it, the rhythm of the waves matching the blood pulsing in his head. Each set of waves surged behind his eyes, increasing in pressure, never easing but only doubling their efforts with each contraction of his heart. Even more so, it started to become apparent in his shoulder, as if it wanted to burst out of his skin.
His eyes opened to a blurry world, the fire burning beside him more like a fog of light. The mage’s brow was soaked with sweat, yet a chill ran through his body. Outside of the cave’s mouth, the rain continued to pound down, having increased from when Qua’ Jon was last conscious to witness it.