The infirmary into which Michael and Gaya, along with the other victims, were brought, had an air of sterile solemnity. Its walls were lined with shelves filled with neatly labeled potions and herbs. Beds, equally spaced, filled the large room, their linens crisp and white under the soft glow of enchanted lights. The atmosphere was heavy with the scent of antiseptics and the undercurrent of magic used for healing.
As the bodies were laid out, a guard turned to his colleague, his voice low.
"Leave these here for now, until the captain gives further instructions," he instructed, casting a final glance at the somber array of fallen individuals before exiting the room to attend to other duties.
