Elias's eyes opened. He had never felt so refreshed in his life, and he knew that he had slept for too long, because the world seemed as if it had changed.
He did not know how long he had slept. Hours, perhaps. A day. The time he had spent in the trial had stretched and compressed in ways his mind still struggled to process. The crystal maze. The forest of bones. The still lake. The chamber of mirrors. The weight of the dead. The dance with Rhys and Lyssa.
Elias did not know which day it was or the time. Not too long ago, one of his greatest secrets was the ability to precisely tell the time as he was aware of every moment that was passing, but now, all of that had changed, and the days began to blur together.
Is that what it was like for an Angel? If you live for thousands or even tens of thousands of years, what does the passing of a single day or a week mean to you?
