The morning light that filtered through the shattered rafters of the infirmary was jagged, mirroring the shards of my own memory. My body felt like a mosaic of pain, each movement a reminder of the toll that the void had taken on my bones. I struggled to sit up, the sheets damp with cold sweat, my vision swimming in shades of gray.
"Do not move, Lucien," Seraphina said, stepping from the shadows of the doorway. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were rimmed with the deep, bruising purple of exhaustion. She carried a tray of steaming herbs, the scent of crushed sage and bitter root filling the room. "The bond is stabilized, but your physical vessel is still recovering from the sheer magnitude of the energy you channeled."
"Where are they?" I asked, my voice a gravelly rasp. I tried to rea
