Irelia lay motionless on the wide bed.
Her skin was unnaturally pale, almost translucent, as if life itself were barely holding on. The room felt heavy, the silence thick enough to suffocate.
Three elderly women stood around her, their expressions grave. Aldric remained at the foot of the bed, his hands clenched at his sides.
One of the women, silver hair drawn neatly back, broke the silence.
"How" she asked slowly, sharp eyes fixed on him, "did she learn that spell under your care?"
Aldric didn't look away from Irelia.
"I don't know" he murmured, his voice rough.
Freya stepped forward, studying Irelia's face with troubled focus.
"The only way to save her" she said firmly, "is to take her to Velmora."
Aldric stiffened.
He turned to the other two women. They exchanged brief looks before nodding in unison.
"She must remain there" one of them said.
"Until she is fully healed" the other added quietly.
