The basement was dim and cold, torches casting flickering shadows across the cracked marble. The silence that followed Medelien's sudden arrival was broken only by the faint drip of blood from her torn robe.
She stood trembling at the base of the stairs, chest heaving, face pale beneath the grime. Blood caked her sleeves, and one of her arms hung limp at her side.
"Medelien!" Collin shouted, rushing forward.
Gilgamel was already ahead of him. He knelt in front of her, the Book of Hundred Spells already hovering above his hand.
"Water Heal," He muttered.
Gentle streams of water-like mana flowed from his hand and wrapped around her injuries. The worst of the gashes knitted closed. Medelien exhaled slowly, color returning to her cheeks.
"You're covered in blood," Gilgamel said, his voice low but urgent: "What happened? Where's Cecilia?"