Vane was back in the infirmary, the sharp scent of medicinal salve and dried blood filling his nostrils. Staring up at the dim ceiling, he thought, Lately, I've been visiting this gloomy stone room more than my own dorm.
Standing right by his bedside, Elian was looking at Vane with that familiar, frantic expression. The scrawny boy had successfully carried out his task amidst the chaos, managing to haul Lyra's unconscious body to the infirmary.
"For God's sake, Vane," Elian hissed, pushing back the glasses slipping down his nose with trembling hands. "What's with standing up to a Pillar heir just because you built a little muscle on the farm?"
Vane slowly scanned the deep cuts seeping through the thick linen bandages, the bruises turning black beneath his skin, and the swelling he didn't even dare touch. Seeing the boy looking so indifferently at the brutal ruin of his own body, Elian scoffed in frustration. "If you keep acting this recklessly, they're going to hang your corpse as a cautionary painting in the cold halls of the palace, Vane!"
A dry, raspy chuckle escaped Vane's cracked lips. "Hahahaha... Elian, stop, please don't make me laugh, it seriously hurts!" The fit of giggles that seized Vane caused every fracture in his ribcage to flare up as if set on fire.
Wincing, he suppressed the pain. "Don't worry, Elian. Seeing Lyra in that state... I just couldn't hold myself back," Vane mumbled.
In truth, he hadn't sensed the slightest threat from the girl thus far; on the contrary, there was something inexplicably, instinctively familiar about Lyra to the young man. "Besides, how is she? Is she alright?"
Vane gently turned his head toward the adjacent bed, which was completely enclosed by thick, white privacy curtains stretching to the ceiling.
Elian dropped his shoulders and shook his head helplessly. "The healers said she needs proper, high-tier treatment, Vane. Her wounds are genuinely severe. The cheap bandages, simple stitches, and ordinary salves they have here aren't even enough to stop the bleeding."
"So, what needs to be done?" Vane asked quietly. Perhaps her dying would logically be more convenient for him, but as he had said, Vane had never sensed any threat from her, and he couldn't shake that instinctive feeling of familiarity she brought him.
"An Aether Serum." Elian pronounced those two words as if he were talking about plucking a star from the sky.
An expression of complete understanding toward Elian's despair appeared on Vane's pale face. An Aether Serum, containing pure life energy, wasn't some ordinary liquid handed out to just anyone. Forget trying to bypass the academy's strict regulations to use it; if you tried to buy it on the black market outside, who knows how many thousands of troys (the official Valerian currency) it would cost, Vane thought.
After thinking in silence for a brief moment, a resolute glint appeared in his purple eyes. "Elian, I can find the aether serum," Vane said.
Elian's glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose in shock. "How are you going to find that, Vane? Is your dad rich or—" Catching the deadpan, lifeless glare Vane shot him, Elian swallowed his words instantly and quickly corrected himself. "I mean... I guess you have a lot of troys in your pocket?"
"I'm going to ask you to find someone for me, but you are not going to ask a single question. I'll explain everything to you later, understood?" Vane's voice was so heavy and serious that it left absolutely no room for argument.
Without a moment's hesitation, Elian swallowed hard and nodded in agreement. "Kristina Poporin. Vassal of the 4th Pillar."
Adjusting his glasses with trembling fingers, the scrawny boy went into shock once again. "V-Vane... she's the right hand of the Robshaw girl! Do you have any idea what kind of fire you're asking me to walk into?"
The Robshaw girl, huh! Vane chuckled inwardly with amusement. "Just go and tell her: 'Vane wants to discuss something important with you. If you don't come, certain matters that should remain hidden might start wandering around.' She will understand that message perfectly." Vane slowly tightened the loose bandages on his chest. "Before you go... why did Kravitz attack Lyra? In the arena, you were babbling something about things blowing up because of me."
Elian took a deep breath, briefly summarized the events, and left the room. Indeed, the situation was exactly as pathetic as Vane had guessed. Since arriving at the academy, Lyra had been like a brick wall, paying no mind to anyone. When she suddenly started showing interest in Vane, the young heir used it as an excuse, perceiving it as an insult to his own pride and to the 7th Pillar. A harsh, verbal altercation had first broken out between Kravitz and Lyra in the arena. Those watching from afar were absolutely certain that the situation stemmed from some sort of inferiority complex and a bout of jealousy within the heir. However, since the main protagonist of the incident was a terrifying Pillar heir, no one dared utter a single word out of fear.
That was, until Vane shouted this truth to everyone's face in the arena, forcing Kravitz to indirectly admit to the situation through his feral actions. Now, these whispers had already started circulating on everyone's tongues throughout the school.
Lying on his bed, Vane couldn't help but feel a momentary pang of pity for Kravitz. Even the purest and most fundamental urge, like love, is crushed beneath the invisible, heavy shackles of the Pillars, he thought.
"Vane," Lysandra whispered. This ancient voice coming from the depths of his mind was spine-chilling. "That 7th Pillar aether inside you... rather than trying to elementalize it into shadows, I recommend you use it to directly forge and strengthen your own body."
"Yeah," Vane murmured quietly. "Looking at the heavy damage my body has taken... strengthening it is a much more logical option." As he prepared to unleash that black aether energy into his veins, he asked the question gnawing at his mind. "Lysandra, after I passed out... what exactly happened out there?"
In the echoes of his mind, the Ancient Empress replied with a low, pleasant, and arrogant tone. "Nothing. I merely showed them a small trailer of your boundless potential."
Lysandra's words made Vane's blood boil, filling him with an indescribable excitement. The massive purple spears forged from pure aether and the majestic floating aether throne he had seen when he awoke in the arena flashed before his eyes. I am looking forward to the day I am capable of such things, he thought with an ambitious smirk.
Struggling to sit cross-legged on the bed, Vane closed his eyes and began the agonizing process of aether cultivation. The aether he had devoured from Kravitz was far more feral, much denser, and darker than Vespera's. The moment it spread through his veins, Vane experienced an unimaginable, blinding pain, making him feel as though all his bones were being pulverized by heavy sledgehammers and reforged, as if all his blood were being drained and replaced with boiling lead.
When the concept of time faded from his mind and the scorching process finally came to an end, Vane softly exhaled a trembling breath. The deep cuts and bruises across his body had rapidly begun to close, and his body felt as light as a feather.
And, as always, he was drenched in sweat.