The white door decorated with gold and red lines opened to let in a man with jet-black hair and a white tunic with a royal blue and silver sash. In the center of the sash, the empire's coat of arms sat with panache: two crossed swords above a horned monster skull resting on elaborately designed feathers.
He was closely followed by a slightly shorter man with brown hair and wearing a white coat over a light gray uniform. A medical doctor, no doubt, given his attire and the portfolio he carried under one arm.
The door was then shut, leaving the two men and a form lying in a large bed in the center of the room inside a large room.
Large dark red curtains had been drawn in front of the high windows to keep the room dark, but also to avoid prying eyes. On a low wheeled table next to the bed, medical equipment had been laid out for regular use.
The dark-haired man looked at the person lying silently on the bed, and asked a question.
"How is she?"
He knew nothing had changed since the last time, but he couldn't help but ask that one question over and over.
"She's still feverish, with increasingly regular seizures," the imperial palace physician replied. "Her internal mana flow is too disrupted to regulate itself, so I've asked some mages to help, but I'm not sure if that will work in the long run."
The Emperor continued to look at his lying wife, her face for once peaceful and not contorted with pain.
"Still no word from the Knights of Ahn'Or," the Emperor said with a bitter look.
"This is unfortunate. Given the Empress's peculiarity, it is not certain that she will resist much longer." Said the doctor. "A control relic would be a sure way to stabilize her condition."
Relics, huh?
If antique weapons were already not common, relics were even rarer; and only old writings and rumors could help locate some.
Some spoke of magic so advanced that it could not be seen with the naked eye, while others spoke of devices based on a more advanced and forgotten science. However, all agreed that these relics could sometimes work miracles in more than desperate situations.
With hope resting on little and almost nothing, the Knights of Ahn'Or, an elite group of soldiers usually ensuring the safety of the capital and the imperious couple, had been deployed across the continent in an attempt to follow a simple rumor. A simple hope, on which all the Emperor's expectations rested.
"Can't we do more?" Asked the Emperor, concerned.
He really did not like to see his wife in these conditions, suffering with little or nothing to soothe her.
"The problem is the Empress' own ability," the doctor replied wearily.
It was not the first time he had answered this question, but he still felt the need to properly explain things to the person who could decide on a whim to have him imprisoned or beheaded.
"This is a case that has never been seen before. Her body is reacting before her consciousness, continuously using her ability, and thus her internal mana." Explained the doctor. "Because of this, she alternates between comatose and conscious states, at the same time as her mana reserve fluctuates by replenishing and being used too quickly to fully replenish. It's like trying to run day and night without interruption. Even if you drank and ate at the same time, the fatigue would continue to build up, until the breaking point."
A 'breaking point', which in this case meant a fatal outcome that the Emperor refused to see happening. He continued to look at his wife with closed eyes, still motionless and breathing silently.
"The abilities are a phenomenon that we still know too little about, despite the cases already recorded. It is still too rare for us to draw any concrete conclusions." Continued the doctor, drawing the Emperor's gaze to him.
"You already told me all this," the Emperor retorted, annoyed.
"I know, but it's the only way to reassure you for now," the doctor conceded. "I can't tell you about things I don't know myself."
A pained sigh came from the bed, and the two men saw that the once peaceful woman's face now wore a pained expression. She began to stir, turning in all directions and throwing away the sheets and blankets that had so far been carefully spread over her body. Immediately, the two men positioned themselves each on the side of the large bed, the Emperor climbing on the mattress to reach his wife from the right, while the doctor leaned on the left edge of the wooden frame.
Her forehead slightly reddened by the fever, the Empress began to turn her head from side to side, always keeping her eyes closed and wrinkling her eyebrows. She seemed to be suffering again, in the grip of a pain whose full intensity only she could truly measure.
"Nothing..." She managed to say between her dry, pale lips. "There is nothing."
She let out a pained moan, contorting herself as the two men tried to hold her in place to prevent her from falling or bumping into the headboard.
"There is nothing more..." She said again in a weak and almost inaudible voice. "I can't see... Nothing anymore."
Both the Emperor and the doctor gritted their teeth and pouted. It was not the first time that the Empress, delirious with fever, had uttered these words. The two men doubted, as they did every time the woman with the very long black hair had a crisis: was it a bad dream, or was it her 'ability' that was speaking?
It was impossible to know, until the one who had all the answers regained full consciousness.
However, no sooner had it begun than the crisis had passed, the Empress' muscles suddenly relaxing.
Worried, the man leading the human Empire pursed his lips bitterly, as his wife's voice reached him one last time.
"There's nothing left... Everything is dark and I can't see anything..."