Little Gods
By Jay Mendell
Stone grinded above his head, dragging him into waking, the sound seeming to reverberate through his very skull.
Khroma groaned, unintelligible syllables spilling out of his mouth as he struggled toward awareness.
“Wha—What happened?” he slurred out, body strangely heavy and his mouth tasting about as dry as the Paideia deserts.
He heard a gasp, and a flurry of words from somewhere above his head, but for some reason, he couldn’t make out what the person was saying.
With great effort, Khroma pried open his eyes, blinking away the sleep-dust that had accumulated. He squinted through the light that flooded his senses, and even that single motion seemed to exhaust him to the very core.
He was dizzy, disoriented, and fighting off a killer headache. In light of
