The infirmary in Cevastein was unlike any other. It was not a cold, sterile room, as one might expect, but a sanctuary of subdued light and warmth. The walls were made of smooth dark stone, but they were decorated with soft tapestries, each of which depicted scenes with mythical creatures —healers - phoenixes, golden deer and celestial snakes. The air smelled faintly of herbs, a mixture of sage and rosemary, mixed with the persistent aroma of oils used to treat the wounded.
Vem was lying in the center of the room, his body sprawled on a bed of intricately carved wood, the pillars of which were shaped like rising flames. Glowing orbs hovered above him like tiny moons, flooding the room with a soft glow.
A deep wound stretched from the upper part of Vem's chest to his stomach, blood oozing from its jagged edges, which seeped through the bandages hastily wrapped around him. The wound was dangerously close to piercing his heart. His breathing was shallow, and every breath sent waves of pain through his body.
Vem's eyelids fluttered, and when his vision cleared, he saw a group of people gathered around him. Lord Uwell stood to the side with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression calm, but with a slight hint of amusement in his eyes. On the other side of Vem, Yulia knelt by the bed, her hand gently laid on his forehead, her touch was soft and cool to his heated skin.
"He's going to be all right, isn't he?" Yulia asked the nurse quietly, her voice was calm but with a note of concern.
The nurse, a tall woman with silver hair in a braid, stood at the foot of the bed. She was wearing a simple robe, but her presence commanded respect.
"He'll survive," she replied, opening a jar of shimmering ointment. "But the wound is deep. He will need time."
Besides Yulia, Valeria and Kalani, the other fallen angels whom he had saved were much less restrained. Valeria, her face bathed in tears, clutched Vem's hand as if her life depended on it.
Valeria eyes were a striking emerald and she was wearing a dress made of shimmering gossamer fabric that reflected light with every movement, and silver threads.
Kalani had purple eyes and tanned skin. Her dress was dark green in color, the fabric of which resembled the velvety texture of leaves in the moonlight. Around her neck, a familiar crescent-pendant dangling freely.
Yulia, the calmest of the three, was distinguished by elegance. Her hair, a soft brown color, was braided in an intricate braid, and her blue eyes were calm and thoughtful. She was wearing a flowing dress of white, almost like the evening sky, with delicate embroidery around the edges depicting swirling clouds. Each of them, despite their beauty, was distinguished by a special grace, their clothes and appearance were as charming as their presence.
"Why did this happen?" she asked. She began to cry dramatically, and her sobs echoed off the walls of the infirmary.
Kalani, leaning towards Vem, was not much better and wailed into her sleeve. "And for someone like you!! You... You saved me from death! And... and... " Her words were drowned out by loud sobs.
Yulia, although she was quieter, stroked Vem's forehead with gentle fingers. Her calm demeanor was in stark contrast to the other two. "He's going to be fine," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. And yet the worry in her eyes betrayed her.
The nurse approached Vem's bedside and knelt. Carefully, she unscrewed the jar and dipped her fingers into the shimmering ointment inside. With practiced hands, she began rubbing the salve across the deep gash. It tingled as it touched Vem's skin, a mixture of heat and cold seeping into his wound, dulling the pain and beginning the slow process of knitting his flesh back together.
Next to him, Pilor, his faithful bird companion, fluttered down onto the bed. In his claws, he carried a small cake—a confection of sponge and honey. Pilor chirped softly, nudging the cake towards Vem, as if it could somehow make the pain disappear.
As the nurse worked, Yulia, Valeria, and Kalani continued pouring their hearts out. "The Succubus," Valeria sobbed. "She's back! What are we going to do?"
"Oh, God!" Kalani whimpered. "I still hear her voice!"
Throughout their dramatic cries, Lord Uwell remained silent, his expression unreadable, until he had enough. "Ladies," he said firmly, "it's time for you to go."
"We can't leave him!" Valeria protested, clinging to Vem's arm. "He needs us! He—"
"He'll be fine," Uwell interrupted, his voice calm but authoritative. "The nurse will take care of him. Now, please."
Still, they hesitated. "We could at least stay and bring him water, or help him eat, or—" Kalani started, her voice trembling.
Vem winced as another wave of pain rolled through him. He didn't have the energy to argue, but Lord Uwell did. "Enough," he said, more forcefully now. "Leave."
This time, the girls finally relented, though Valeria and Kalani both gave dramatic last glances before shuffling out of the room, sniffling as they went. Yulia was the last to go, her eyes lingering on Vem with a quiet sadness before she turned and left.
Once they were gone, Uwell dismissed the nurse as well, though she hesitated for a moment, glancing at Vem as if to ensure he was stable. Finally, she nodded and stepped out of the room. Only Pilor remained, perched silently by Vem's side.
Lord Uwell moved closer, his expression more serious now. "Tell me what you saw, Vem."
Vem closed his eyes, trying to piece together the fragmented memories of the attack. "She was…beautiful," he began, his voice strained from the effort. "Her eyes…they were full of fire, and she moved like a shadow…like she wasn't entirely there."
Uwell listened intently, but his fingers clenched tightly behind his back as Vem continued. "She…she whispered something, just before she struck me. Her voice…it was familiar. And the way she looked at me…it was like she knew me. Her hair—dark, flowing like a storm cloud. And her eyes…they burned, like they wanted to destroy me. Her face was pale and blue."
Vem paused, his breath shallow. "And there was something else…a scar, just above her brow. I don't know how, but I know it. I've seen it before…"
The room fell silent as Vem's words hung in the air. Lord Uwell's jaw tightened. He said nothing for a long moment. He paced slowly across the room, his mind racing. Then, with a deep breath, he turned to Vem and said quietly, "Rest now. Take care of yourself."
He left the room without another word, leaving Vem exhausted and aching. As he sank back into the bed, his chest burning with each breath, his mind swirled with confusion and pain.
Just as he was about to drift into a restless sleep, he saw a figure at the edge of his vision. Aislin stood at the foot of his bed, her presence as quiet as a whisper, her eyes filled with something he couldn't quite read. She took a step closer, her gaze locked on him, and Vem felt a shiver run through his spine.