Trivet took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves as he glanced at the monitors beside the bed. The patient lay motionless, her pale body riddled with cuts and bruises, her breathing shallow but steady. "She's sedated," he announced, his voice trembling slightly. He signaled to Uva, who was already crouched near her oversized bag, pulling out an assortment of bottles and vials. The sight of so many mysterious concoctions made Trivet's stomach churn.
Internally, he cursed the situation. Why was I even called here? The witch clearly knows what she's doing. His eyes flicked back to the monitors, the cold green numbers offering a sense of stability in the chaos.
