Vane and Elian pulled back the thick white curtains surrounding the bed, the sharp sound of the metal rings breaking the infirmary's sterile silence. Vane's jaw clenched the moment he saw Lyra's wounds and her pitiful state. Her skin was deathly pale, her veins bulging like dark blue webs beneath her skin, and her body was trembling in cold sweats.
"She is suffering from aether withdrawal," Lysandra whispered in Vane's mind.
"Vane... If that serum doesn't get here in time," Elian said, swallowing hard. There was tangible pity in his eyes and a trembling despair in his voice. "Lyra... she might never be able to move like she used to."
"At this rate, she won't even last five minutes, Vane," Lysandra warned. Her tone held no pity, only a cold statement of fact.
Is there anything we can do? Vane asked within the confines of his own mind.
Lysandra did not answer immediately. For the arrogant, all-knowing Empress, this silence was highly unusual.
Lysandra! Vane pushed harder against their mental link.
"There is, Vane." Lysandra's voice signaled that the solution she was about to offer would birth a problem far more complex than death itself. "You will transfer your own aether to her. Just like when you created that massive explosion in the arena... But this time, you won't absorb aether from the outside; you will vomit the darkness inside you and make her drink it."
Watching the girl seize and thrash uncontrollably on the bed, Vane grumbled in his mind, How am I supposed to do that? You'd better tell me quickly!
In her smoky spirit form, Lysandra appeared at the other end of the bed, right behind Elian. She gestured toward the scrawny boy with her eyes. "Get rid of that dead weight first. It wouldn't be good for this to be seen."
Vane turned his gaze to Elian. "Elian, could you leave me alone with Lyra?"
Elian's eyes widened instantly. He was smart enough to realize Vane was going to make a secret move to help the girl. But he also realized in that very second that Vane didn't trust him enough to share this secret. The boy's shoulders slumped, the loyal light in his eyes giving way to a deep disappointment. Without saying a word, he just nodded and walked out of the infirmary with heavy steps.
I'm sorry, Elian, Vane thought. But keeping you out of this darkness is the greatest favor I can do for you.
"Good," Lysandra said, gliding closer to Vane. "Now, force her jaw open."
Vane felt a momentary wave of rebellion in his mind. What? Why am I doing this?
"Her heart will stop in seconds if you don't do as I say, Vane! Stop questioning and obey!" Lysandra insisted with an authoritative hiss.
Vane didn't waste another moment. He grabbed the thrashing girl's flailing wrists with one hand and pinned them to the bed. Despite her severe injuries, Lyra was struggling with surprising strength. With his free hand, Vane grabbed her sweaty cheeks firmly but gently and tried to pry open her locked jaw.
Come on, Lyra... He finally succeeded. The girl's lips parted with difficulty.
"Channel your aether to your fingertips, Vane," Lysandra commanded. "Imagine water dripping from the end of a faucet left open."
Vane narrowed his eyes, focusing on the bottomless void inside him. After a few seconds of trying, a dense, ink-black aether smoke began to pool at his fingertips.
"Now direct that darkness inside." Lysandra's voice carried a lethal seriousness.
Vane didn't hesitate. He slowly guided that black, toxic aether smoke trailing from his fingertips straight through Lyra's parted lips. The moment that ancient, foreign energy entered her body, Lyra went completely rigid. But within seconds, the violent convulsions gave way to a deep relaxation. Her groans and sudden reflexes completely ceased, and the deathly pallor on her face was replaced by a faint vitality.
Vane gently laid the relaxed girl back onto her pillow.
Thank you, Lysandra, he whispered to the ancient spirit inside him.
"Vane..." Lysandra's voice sounded unexpectedly exhausted. It was as if the aether transfer had drained her more than Vane. "After that girl leaves this infirmary... Keep observing her."
Vane frowned. He didn't understand. What do you mean? Will that aether harm her?
The ancient voice whispered one last time before sinking into an echoing silence in the depths of his mind: "Just... do exactly as I said." And the voice cut off entirely.
Vane looked at the girl, now sleeping peacefully on the bed. Knowing she was safe created a warmth deep in Vane's chest that he couldn't quite understand. It felt as if he had pulled an old friend he'd lost years ago back from the edge of a cliff. Even though his cold logic rejected this feeling, his instincts seemed programmed to protect her.
Vane closed the curtains, opened the heavy oak door of the infirmary, and stepped out into the corridor.
Elian was there. He was leaning his back against the cold stone wall, his head bowed. He didn't even lift his head to look at his friend who had just walked out.
"Elian," Vane said.
"Yes, Vane." The boy slowly raised his head. His face held a pure hurt and disappointment that he didn't even bother to hide.
"Thank you." Vane said this with genuine sincerity.
But Elian's face didn't soften, even in the face of this gratitude. With an unresponsive and blank expression, he simply replied, "It's nothing." Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he added, "It's been a rough day, Vane. I'm going back to the room." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed for the dormitories.
Vane stood there watching him go. Elian... His heart wanted to catch up to the boy and tell him everything—about the dark side of the Academy, the curse in his blood—but his mind, and Lysandra's presence, were cold shackles that wouldn't allow it.
It had been fifteen minutes since Elian left. Vane was sitting silently by Lyra's bed, waiting for her to wake up.
The door suddenly opened. Kristina walked in, holding a strange, small glass vial with metallic engravings.
The girl's eyes first landed on Lyra sleeping in the bed, then on Vane sitting right beside her, perfectly upright in his tattered academy uniform. She was surprised. She hadn't known the young man for long, but Vane's posture, his calm and dangerous aura, had absolutely nothing to do with the "Barn Bastard" rumors whispered in the corridors. This man's posture... is even more noble than most Pillar heirs, Kristina thought, inwardly hating to admit this truth.
"I brought what you asked for," Kristina said, holding the aether serum out to Vane.
Vane took the vial, turning it side to side to look at the glowing blue liquid. "How do I use this?"
"Step aside," Kristina said. This time she was the one giving orders, and her voice carried a professional seriousness.
The blue-haired girl took out the silver apparatus needed to administer the serum intravenously from her pocket. Vane took a step back and carefully watched her swift and professional movements.
Once the last drop of the serum had mixed into Lyra's veins, Kristina packed up her tools. Just as she was about to walk out the door, she suddenly stopped and turned to Vane. She looked Vane's bandaged body up and down.
"Vane... You have to attend Prince Julian's tournament tomorrow," she said with a clear voice. "You look like you can stand on your own two feet. So you'll handle it."
Vane simply gave a slight nod.
The girl paused again, as if she had almost forgotten to say the most important thing. She straightened her posture. "Master Mirabelle wanted me to pass this on to you: 'This serum is payment for you carrying my vassal, Kristina, to the infirmary with your own hands. However, if he tries to threaten me again, he should be ready to face the consequences.'"
Relieved to have delivered the message, Kristina walked out of the infirmary and left.
Vane let out a deep breath, looking up at the dim ceiling of the room. "I'm really starting to get sick of these endless threats," he muttered aloud.
I'd better rest for tomorrow's tournament, he thought. He took one last, long look at the silver-haired girl breathing peacefully in the bed. Then, he turned his back, walked out of the infirmary, and headed toward his dorm with the weight of new secrets on his shoulders.