*Solveigh*
My consciousness returns slowly, as if emerging from the depths of a murky abyss. The voices around me are hushed and indistinct, like echoes in a fog. I strain to understand them, but they remain elusive.
‘Sol,’ Seth's voice resonates within my mind, warm and reassuring. ‘You're going to be okay. You need more rest before your body can fully recover.’
I want to respond, to tell him how tired I am, but my limbs are heavy and unresponsive. My eyelids feel weighed down, as if encased in stone. It's frustrating, this inability to move or communicate.
‘Mom... Dad…’ I try to call for them in my thoughts, hoping Seth will relay my message.
Footsteps approach, and I sense their familiar presence even before I hear dad's deep, calming voice. "Seth, how is she?"
"Her body is still too weak to talk or open her eyes or move yet," Seth explains gently. "But she can hear us."