Siegfried Fors
Grandpa looked sad. The kind of sadness that settled deep, beyond words or comfort. His usual hearty presence, the warmth that filled a room, now seemed weighed down by something heavier than time.
It's no wonder, he lost his only son.
My gaze drifted back to the room beside my mother's. The door stood open, quiet, yet behind it lingered echoes of a life lost too soon. A silent weight settled in my chest.
I wonder… how did my father feel after I died in my previous life?
That thought hit harder than I expected. I hadn't seen him in two years. Not since the incident. Did he grieve? Did he move on? Did he resent me for dying? A twisting ache spread through my chest, curling around my heart like cold iron. I took a slow breath, shaking my head.
No. There's no point in thinking about that. I need to focus on this life.
Taking a deep breath, I muttered to myself, "Now, where is she…?"
I wandered through the mansion, checking room after room. The hallways were quiet, filled only with the distant sounds of servants going about their tasks. Eventually, my search led me to the laundry room.
"Young lord?"
I turned to see Emma standing inside, holding a basket of freshly washed clothes. Her brown eyes flickered with surprise before settling into something more formal. I hadn't seen her much since that... bathroom incident.
The thought made my ears burn slightly.
Lately, different maids had been taking turns bathing me. Was it because of what I said that day? Did I offend her?
Emma shifted her grip on the basket. "Does the young lord require anything?"
I cleared my throat. "Have you seen Erina?"
She blinked. "Erina? No, I have not."
I frowned. She should still be hiding. Where...
Then, I noticed something.
In the corner of the room, beneath a messy bundle of sheets, a small black, rope-like shape peeked out, covered in soft fur, with a tiny tuft of hair at the end.
A tail.
My lips curled into a smirk.
I knelt beside the bundle of sheets, my fingers twitching in anticipation. Over my shoulder, I saw Emma stiffen, her throat bobbing in a nervous gulp.
I reached out.
Grab. The moment my fingers closed around it, the bundle exploded.
"KYAAAH!"
The dark brown hair peeked out from under the sheets, the familiar tufts of hair that gave away her hiding spot. I couldn't help but grin.
"Found you," I said, my voice light with amusement.
But instead of hearing the usual teasing response or playful protest, there was a small sound, like a hiccup, a tremble in the air that didn't belong.
"Hic..."
I blinked, my grin faltering. What? That wasn't the reaction I was expecting.
I leaned closer in confusion. "Erina?"
The little girl's body stiffened, her eyes filling with unshed tears. She was trying to hide it, but I could see the sorrow welling up in her.
I couldn't understand what happened. My heart dropped like a stone; it didn't look like she was playing anymore.
Before I could say anything, Emma, who had been quietly watching from the side, quickly placed the basket of laundry down and knelt beside me. Her voice was calm, but I could hear the concern underneath.
"Young lord," she said softly, her eyes meeting mine with gentle reproach. "The tails of demi-humans are very sensitive."
I blinked, the weight of her words crashing into me. Her tail… I hadn't thought about that. Of course, I hadn't known. I was only playing, just trying to find her like we always did. But now, with Emma's words sinking in, I felt a rush of guilt rise within me.
I turned to Erina, watching as she tried to wipe away the tears that threatened to spill. Emma's hand softly patted her head.
"Calm down, Erina," Emma murmured. "The young lord did not intend to harm you. You know that, do you not? He would never bring harm to a friend."
Erina's eyes, red-rimmed, lifted to mine. She nodded, but her voice was barely a whisper.
"I know."
My chest tightened. Seeing her like this, so fragile, so small, made something ache deep inside me. Without thinking, I moved forward and gently reached out, my finger tracing away the tear that had fallen down her cheek.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice thick with regret.
Erina's tiny hand suddenly gripped mine. I didn't know what to say. Her eyes, though wet with tears, held a strange understanding, like she knew it wasn't intentional, yet the hurt still lingered.
"No, it's not Lord Sieg's fault," she murmured, her voice wavering, but her grip on my hand was firm.
I wanted to do more, to make it right. But before I could say anything else, a voice broke through the tense silence.
"What's going on here?"
I looked up, startled, to see my mother standing at the door.
"Ma?" I called, relief flooding my chest at the sight of her. It would have been worse if it was Granny.
Emma stood quickly, and with a respectful bow, she explained, "The young lord and Erina were merely playing hide and seek."
My mother's gaze shifted over to Erina, who was still on the floor, tears glistening on her cheeks. Her expression softened instantly, concern etched on her face.
"Are you crying?"
Erina didn't answer immediately. She hid her face behind her hands for a moment, and I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt flood me again. But then, in a quiet voice, she spoke, her words almost too soft to hear.
"I got found out," she said, trying to cover for me, her voice trembling as she spoke.
I felt a rush of gratitude toward her for protecting me, even though she was the one who had been hurt.
Before I could dwell on it any longer, I tried to shift the focus away from her.
"What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be patrolling the forest?" I asked my mother, desperate for a distraction from the uncomfortable silence. My voice came out a little more strained than I meant, but I hoped she wouldn't notice.
Her gaze softened as she glanced at me, but her smile never wavered. "Zayn took over for me."
I blinked, a bit surprised. "Ah, I see…"
She nodded, then motioned for us to follow her. "Alright, follow me, you all."
"Where?" I asked, furrowing my brow.
"To the training field," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"I will continue working," Emma said, as she moved to grab the laundry basket.
But then, just before she could turn back to her task, my mother stepped closer to her, her voice lowering to a near whisper. I could barely catch the words, but the way Emma's face flushed bright red told me enough.
"Did you try wearing it?" my mother asked, her voice soft yet teasing.
Emma's eyes widened, and she quickly glanced at me, an almost panicked look in her expression.
"I have not had the chance," she stammered, her cheeks burning as if she'd been caught in something she shouldn't have been.
My mother's laughter rang out, light and full of enjoyment. "Make sure to try it."
Emma's face went even redder, and she quickly turned away, focusing entirely on the laundry basket as if it could hide her embarrassment.
"I think we should leave her to it," my mother added with a sly smile, then motioned for me to follow her. "You two follow me."
As we walked away from the laundry room, I glanced back at Emma, who was still trying to compose herself. Her cheeks were still flushed with that unmistakable shade of embarrassment.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity, wondering just what my mother had meant by that comment. But, as usual, my mother had her way of getting under people's skin, and I wasn't about to push Emma too hard.
Erina's small hand wrapped around mine.
I glanced down at her. Her eyes were bright, but there was still a shadow lingering in them. The image of her tears flickered in my mind, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I had hurt her, even unintentionally. I lowered my voice to a whisper, just for her, so no one else could hear.
"Does it still hurt?" I asked, my words laced with genuine concern.
She shook her head, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "It does not hurt at all."
Her answer didn't completely erase the worry from my chest, but it was a relief nonetheless. She was tough, much tougher than I had realized. But that didn't mean I didn't want to protect her. I wanted to make sure she never felt pain again.
From ahead, my mother's voice called out. "What are you two whispering about?"
I stiffened slightly, but my expression remained neutral as I quickly glanced up at her. "Nothing."
I could feel the curiosity burning in her gaze, but she didn't press further. Instead, she turned her focus back to the path ahead, continuing toward the training field.
We passed through the backdoor of the mansion, the rays of sun greeting us as we stepped outside. The familiar sounds of the estate began to fade behind us, replaced by the rhythmic thuds of boots against the earth. The stomps were so powerful they shook the ground beneath my feet, reverberating through the air like the very heartbeat of the Barony. It was as if the whole field was alive, vibrating with the strength of their coordinated efforts. The rhythm of their movements was flawless, their faces set in fierce concentration. The parade practice was in full swing for the upcoming festival, an annual tradition, but today it felt more intense.
The air was filled with the commanding shout of Silas, the sound of spears tapping against shields, and the heavy thud of boots hitting the ground in perfect unison. It was a display of power and discipline, meant to impress the townsfolk and show the strength of our forces.
Erina, still holding my hand, was looking around with wide eyes, her face filled with awe. She had never been this close to the soldiers during their drills. I could sense her curiosity, the fascination she felt toward the strength and precision of the soldiers.
After a few minutes, the parade demonstration had finally ended, and the soldiers scattered to rest, their loud footsteps fading into the distance. I could see Silas walking toward us, his tall form cutting through the light of the sun as he approached my mother.
"Good evening, Lady Valka," he greeted her, his voice steady as always.
My mother smiled, though there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was always full of surprises, and I had learned to never fully predict what she might do next.
"Good evening, Silas," she replied, her tone light. "You know, I've been thinking... Why don't we have a little practice session, Sieg? How about a sword fight?"
I blinked in surprise. "A sword fight? With me? Was she serious?"
Silas immediately stiffened, glancing between the two of us with a mixture of concern and exasperation. "Lady Valka, you're not serious, are you? After what happened last time?" He knew better than anyone how fiercely Mother could fight. I could almost see the fear in his eyes.
Mother merely laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, it'll be fine. I'll use a wooden sword, and I'll hold back." She then turned to me with an expectant look, her sapphire eyes gleaming with excitement. "What do you say, Sieg? Up for the challenge?"
Silas seemed unconvinced, but my mother's determination was something I couldn't argue with. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, his shoulders slumping as he turned his gaze to me.
"Are you certain you wish to proceed, young lord?" he inquired, his tone laced with both deference and concern.
I looked at my mother. There was something about her, an intensity, a fire, that always made me feel like I couldn't back down from her challenges. And a part of me, despite the unease gnawing at my stomach, didn't want to back down. I nodded.
"I'll be fine, Silas," I said, my voice steady, even as a part of me warned against this. I knew my mother was strong, but I also wanted to see how far I had come after being beaten up by Zayn for so many days.
Silas sighed deeply, clearly defeated. "Very well. I'll fetch the wooden swords."
He turned and walked off, leaving me with my mother. She looked at me with the same playful eyes.
Silas returned, handing me a wooden sword and one to my mother as well. We both took our positions in the center of the training field a little farther from each other. Mother raised her sword with a grin. "Ready?" she asked, her voice low and steady, like she was about to step into a dance.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. The field around us seemed to fade away, the soldiers watching us fading into the background as I focused solely on the battle ahead. I took my stance, sword raised, ready for whatever came next.
Silas raised his hand. "Whoever lands the first hit wins," he stepped back and gave the signal.
Before I could even brace myself, she was upon me. Mother's figure blurred, one moment distant, the next right in front of me. Her sword came down at me in a powerful arc, and for a split second, I thought I was done for. But instead, something inside me clicked. The training, the endless hours of sword practice, the sharp focus that had been beaten into me all this time, it all fused into that single motion.
I raised my sword, meeting hers horizontally head-on just in time. Wood met wood with a thunderous crack; the shock of the impact reverberated through my arm, but I barely flinched. Gritting my teeth, I tilted my sword, her sword slid off mine, forcing her off balance, and in the same instant, I pushed off the ground, launching myself toward her.
The look in her eyes shifted from playful to surprised as I surged forward. Before she could react, I slammed my sword on her head with all the force I could muster.
There was a loud CRACK.
My wooden sword shattered as it slammed into her skull, sending splinters flying in every direction.
Silence.
Silas and the surrounding soldiers stood frozen, mouths hanging open in disbelief.
Mother stood completely still, her head slightly tilted from the force of the strike. A single piece of the broken sword slid off her hair and dropped to the ground with a soft thud.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she reached up, rubbed the top of her head, and blinked at me. "...Ow."
Silas, still wide-eyed, cleared his throat. "Uh... the winner is... Young Lord Siegfried."
The soldiers burst into cheers and laughter, some clapping, others shaking their heads in amazement.
Mother let out a groan, rubbing her head. "Not bad, Sieg. Not bad at all."
I exhaled slowly, my heart still pounding.
I had won.
Or had I?
The thought lingered in my mind as I looked down at the broken wooden sword in my hands. My mother, the undefeated warrior of the Fors family, had just lost to me.
No, she had let me win. I knew that much.
She was holding back. Heavily. And swords were never her specialty to begin with.
This wasn't truly a victory, just a lucky strike, a moment where my instincts outpaced my mind. Still, seeing Mother sulking as she rubbed the sore spot on her head, her lips slightly pursed, made it all worth it.
A grin tugged at my lips, and before I could fully process what had happened, Erina came running over, followed by a small crowd of soldiers.
"It was so cool, Lord Sieg!" Erina cheered, practically bouncing with excitement.
"Well, I'll be damned," Silas chuckled, he gave me an amused look. "You actually succeeded in landing a strike on Lady Valka. It seems all that training was not in vain."
The other soldiers clapped happily, some laughing, some shaking their heads in disbelief.
"To think someone actually got a clean hit on Lady Valka…"
"Not just someone, the young lord!"
"This is a historic moment for barony!"
I couldn't tell if they were more shocked or impressed, but their reactions made me feel lighter. Even Silas, who had suffered countless beatings at my mother's hands, seemed almost too entertained by this.
Maybe I could allow myself to enjoy this moment a little.
I stole another glance at my mother. She was still rubbing the top of her head, muttering something under her breath. It wasn't often I saw her make that face, it was almost pouty.
Yes. Totally worth it.
Then, suddenly,
"Fueee."
A strange sound echoed through the air.
I stopped breathing.
It wasn't a voice I knew.
I glanced around quickly. "Did you hear that?" I asked.
Silas raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, young lord?"
"That sound just now."
The soldiers around me exchanged looks before shaking their heads.
"I didn't hear anything," Erina said, tilting her head in confusion.
A strange feeling crawled up my spine.
Then, as I blinked, the world around me changed.
Colors.
Swirling, shifting colors, blue and orange waves of energy surrounded everyone around me, flowing like fire and mist. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, a strange and unnatural vision that sent a jolt of disorientation through my body.
"What… is this?"
I was only using my left eye, my right, my so called blood trait, was still covered with my eyepatch. And yet, I was seeing something that shouldn't be there.
Then,
A thin green trail of light slithered through the air before me, winding forward like a serpent, stretching toward the trees at the edge of the training field. It shimmered, moving almost deliberately.
I found myself drawn to it.
Without thinking, I took a step forward, then another, my feet carrying me past the gathered soldiers.
"Lord Sieg?"
Erina's voice reached me, but it was distant, muffled, like I was submerged in water.
The green light urged me onward.
Step by step, I followed.
The sound returned.
"Fueee..."
It was coming from the trees.
I stopped at the base of a large oak, my breath shallow, my fingers twitching at my sides. Slowly, I lifted my gaze.
Perched among the branches was a small fox.
Its fur was a rich reddish-orange, its underbelly white, with black markings on its legs, ears, and nose. But something was… different.
A strange glow surrounded it, distinct from the light I had seen before. Unlike the blue and orange that clung to the others, this was white, soft and pure.
It was strange, this small creature, perched on the branch above me, watching me with its golden eyes. I didn't know why, but I felt drawn to it. My fingers stretched out instinctively, as if trying to grasp something just beyond my reach.
To my surprise, the fox jumped.
I reacted on instinct, arms moving to catch it, but before my hands could close around its small frame, it floated.
I couldn't believe my eyes.
The fox wasn't falling. It hovered in mid-air, weightless, swirling in smooth, fluid motions around me. Its body moved as if caught in an invisible current, spiraling through the air with an almost playful grace.
It was happy.
A soft, melodic chime, like a distant bell, seemed to resonate through the air as the fox weaved around me.
I could only stare, captivated.
"Young lord, be careful!"
Silas's voice snapped me back to reality.
I turned my head just enough to see him rushing toward me with my mother and Erina a little behind him. His expression was tense, worried.
But before I could speak,
The fox stopped.
It hovered right in front of me, floating effortlessly, its golden eyes locked onto mine.
And then,
It moved.
With an almost deliberate slowness, the fox reached forward,
—And lightly tapped its nose against my forehead.
CRACK!
A deep, resounding crack that didn't come from outside, but from inside me.
I felt the world break.
And then came the pain.
A searing, unbearable agony erupted from within, like something had just been ripped from my very being.
I gasped as an unbearable heat erupted from deep within me, a force unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was like a dam had shattered, like something buried inside me had finally been set free.
A shockwave of light burst from my body, spiraling outward in every direction.
The air twisted violently.
The ground trembled beneath my feet.
I heard cries of alarm as the force pushed everyone back, Erina, Silas, the soldiers, even my mother, sent stumbling away from me as if an invisible explosion had detonated at my head.
My heartbeat roared in my ears.
My vision blurred, distorted, colors bleeding together like melted wax.
I tried to breathe, but the air was thick, suffocating.
Then, just before everything turned white,
Somewhere, barely beyond the white-hot agony consuming me, I thought I heard,
"Sieg!"
"Granny?"
Everything went to nothing.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Elara Fors
Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting warm golden hues over the stack of parchment on my desk. As I sifted through the documents, a quiet atmosphere settled around me. The upcoming Harvest Festival required meticulous planning, and as always, the merchants were relentless.
I glanced over the latest proposals, requests for stalls, permits, and outrageous bids for prime locations. Many of these merchants were growing desperate. It was no surprise; the Harvest Festival in Fors Barony was unlike any other in the surrounding territories. The festival wasn't just a local event; it was an economic boon, drawing in nobility and traders alike. The lords of neighboring lands traveled here not only to celebrate but to secure trade deals, expand their influence, and gauge our prosperity.
Fors Barony was unique. Among the many minor territories under Count Hansen's rule, it was one of the few to have reached the coveted status of a "developed" state. The title was more than just a formality, it signified that we had successfully established a town with all the necessary infrastructure, generating a stable income exceeding twenty thousand gold coins annually. Such wealth was rare, and with it came both privilege and responsibility.
I set one document aside and picked up another, barely stifling a scoff as my gaze landed on the familiar insignia stamped at the bottom. The Church had already sent their notice.
It was always the same. The moment a territory reached development status, a church would be established within its borders. They called it divine providence, a blessing upon the land. I called it what it truly was, opportunism. They had done nothing to aid the growth of Fors Barony, yet the moment we flourished, they extended their hands for donations, expecting the people to bow and accept their presence without question.
But what choice did we have? No lord in their right mind would stand against one of the most powerful institutions on the continent over something as trivial as a forced tithe. Resistance would be futile. Even I understood that.
Still, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I pressed my fingers against my temple, exhaling slowly. There was no point in dwelling on it now. The festival was fast approaching, and I had more pressing concerns to attend to.
A tremor of mana surged through me, shaking me to my very core. My vision blurred as a dizziness overtook me, and I slumped back into my chair, pressing a hand against my eyes in an attempt to steady myself.
What… was that? A mental attack? No, this mana… it felt familiar. But from where?
I reached out with my senses, tracing the overwhelming mana to its source: the training field. My breath hitched as recognition struck me like a forgotten memory snapping into place.
Sieg.
I shot up from my chair. Without a second thought, I rushed out of the room, grabbing my staff from the alchemy lab as I passed. The servants were also in panic, but I continued. The mana was still flowing, an endless tide pouring out into the air as if an unfathomable wellspring had been unleashed.
When I arrived at the field, my heart nearly stopped.
The sheer magnitude of mana engulfed the area, distorting the very air. It swirled in torrents around the center of the field, covering half of it in a shimmering, untamed storm of mana. And at its core stood him, Sieg.
My grandson.
The soldiers stood frozen, their faces pale. Valka was tense, her body poised as if ready to intervene at any moment. Silas clutched Erina close, shielding her with his arm as they all stared at the scene before them.
He's awakening.
A strangled groan escaped Sieg's lips, and my instincts took over.
"Sieg!" I called, stepping forward, my grip on my wand tightening.
His head twitched slightly, his expression unfocused. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he responded,
"Granny?"
Before I could take another step, his eyes rolled back, turning completely white. The mana around him surged, growing denser, more violent. His feet left the ground.
Sieg was no longer standing. He was floating.
I wanted to run to him, to pull him out of this, to hold him close and shield him from whatever was happening. But I knew better.
This moment was too important.
The overflowing mana was the very essence that would forge his Soul Crucible, the foundation of his magic. The sheer amount of mana was staggering, but beyond that, it was beautiful. The sight before me was… mesmerizing.
The mana wasn't wild or chaotic like one would expect from an uncontrolled release. Instead, it was a breathtaking shade of green, vibrant and alive. It ascended in swirling currents, flowing like a graceful dance, as though it possessed a will of its own. It shimmered, almost playfully. It was as if the very mana itself was celebrating its rise, reveling in its own awakening.
A deep tremor ran through the ground beneath me, but still, I could not tear my gaze from Sieg.
It should have been over by now.
The formation of the Soul Crucible was not a prolonged process, once the soul reformed its accumulated mana, the process should have stabilized. But the mana was still pouring out of him.
Something was wrong.
The mana released during an awakening was normally the sum of what the soul had absorbed over a lifetime, a reflection of the strength one would wield after fully awakening. Yet the flow of mana showed no sign of stopping. It only grew more intense, pouring through him endlessly, as if an unmeasurable reservoir had been unearthed.
But this...
This was too much.
"Elara."
A familiar voice pulled at the edge of my consciousness. I barely registered it until a presence settled at my side.
It was my husband.
"What's happening to Sieg?" he asked, his tone low but strained.
I took in a shaky breath, my eyes never leaving Sieg, my worry growing with every pulse of that surging mana.
"Sieg..." I exhaled. My voice came softer than I intended, barely above a whisper.
"Sieg is going through his awakening."
"Awakening?" he repeated, disbelief thick in his voice. His eyes snapped back to Sieg, searching for some explanation, some reassurance, there was none.
A splatter of blood.
A sharp gasp left me as crimson streaks ran from Sieg's wide, unblinking eyes. Not just his eyes, his nose, his ears, even the corners of his mouth. The sight sent a shudder of horror down my spine.
No.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears. If this continued, if his body couldn't withstand this,
But before we could cross the invisible boundary of his overextended mana, a long double-headed axe slammed into the ground before us, cutting off our path. The force sent cracks spiderwebbing through the ground.
My gaze snapped up.
"What are you doing?" My voice was sharp, urgent, but it barely concealed the rising panic inside me.
Valka stood there, gripping the weapon firmly. The daughter who so often wore a foolish, carefree expression now stared at me with a gaze as cold as steel.
"If we interfere now," she said evenly, "he will become a cripple."
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.
"What purpose does it serve if he perishes?" The words lashed out of me, raw and unrestrained.
"Calm down, you two," Throvald interjected, stepping forward. His voice was firm, cutting through the rising tension. "There has to be something else we can do."
A dark blue blur shot through the air, slicing through the veil of wild mana like a comet piercing the heavens. The force of its descent sent ripples through the mana storm, parting it like a divine decree.
Zayn.
His form streaked through the turbulent currents, unwavering, unstoppable. He broke through the shimmering torrent of green light, his outstretched arms seizing Sieg's small, fragile body from the air.
In his other hand, he clutched something, a small, pristine white marble. Its surface shimmered, shifting through colors like a liquid rainbow, reflecting the very essence of magic itself.
With firm resolve, Zayn pressed the marble against Sieg's lips, forcing it into his mouth.
The moment it passed through, the world changed.
The mana, which had once flowed in a wild ascent to the heavens, stilled. The swirling torrents faltered, then shifted. Instead of rising endlessly, the energy curved, spiraling inward.
Like celestial rings encircling a sacred core, a celestial dance of emerald, the mana coiled in a perfect, mesmerizing orbit around Sieg, pulsating with rhythmic brilliance.
The very air trembled.
The mana condensed, transformed,
A blinding white light exploded from within.
For an instant, everything was consumed, shadows, sky, the ground beneath our feet. It was as if the world had been reset into a state of pure, untouched radiance.
And then, as abruptly as it came, it was gone.
The light receded, leaving a soft glow in its wake. The dust settled.
Zayn knelt in the field, his arms wrapped tightly around Sieg.
"SIEG!"
I ran. I ran before I even realized my feet were moving.
The sight of him made my breath hitch.
Blood.
It drenched his tiny frame, so much of it. His body was limp in Zayn's grasp, his pale skin stained in crimson.
I dropped to my knees, hands trembling as I reached out, mana flaring at my fingertips.
No…
I pressed my hands against him, letting my mana seep in, searching, feeling…
I could feel it, his veins, ruptured. The web of life coursing through him was torn apart, his body ravaged by the brutal awakening. Internal bleeding seeped into every crevice of his fragile frame.
This was beyond me.
"Can you heal him?" Zayn's voice was steady, but his eyes, his eyes burned with urgency.
"No," I whispered, my voice breaking. "This… this is too much."
A flesh wound, a broken limb, I could fix those. But this? This was destruction on a level I had never faced.
"I'll go and fetch Father Kaelen," Throvald said, already moving.
"Then I'll bring Doctor Ridge," Valka added, her voice eerily calm.
That struck a nerve, but I didn't have the luxury of snapping at her. My focus was solely on Sieg, holding him together.
He can't die.
Not like this.