Emery and Urix rushed through the dark stone corridors of the citadel. The echoes of their footsteps bounced off the cool, damp stone, creating a rhythm of urgency as they hurried to their destination. They were lead into a large, dimly lit hall where the air was thick with the scent of antiseptics and magical energy.
The sight that greeted Emery was alarming yet oddly familiar. In the center of the hall, a female commander lay on a hastily prepared table. Her ashen complexion contrasted starkly against the stark white of the makeshift bedding. Hovering around her were three magus, each engrossed in their tasks. One was operating a device that hummed with magic, its multiple arms moving in a controlled dance as it probed and examined the unconscious woman. Another, a young man with beads of sweat trickling down his face, was casting water-based healing spells in a constant rhythmic pattern, his hands glowing with a soothing azure light.
