A low, autumn sun glinted off stained-glass windows as Marin Ashveil stood in the council infirmary, lantern light dancing across rows of cots where veteran Alphas lay in troubled slumber. The air was thick with the scent of saint-ash salve and herb-infused bandages. Aurelia hovered nearby, her scholar's quill poised over a ledger.
“Empath Regent," Aurelia began, voice gentle yet urgent, “each time you broadcast empathy over such a wide area, you tax your life force. The sages estimate you lose weeks—perhaps months—of your lifespan." She tapped her pen against the open pages. “We must regulate your use."
Marin's grey eyes—soulful and fierce—met Aurelia's. “Duty," she signed, anger and sorrow intertwined. “Show me balance."
Aurelia exhaled, closing the ledger. “Then we proceed strategica
