Marmalade's Love Potion

Chapter 22 - Battle - Part 2

Callum lay prone surrounded by Grimwood Healers garbed in billowing robes of bronze and green, their cuffs embroidered with the marks of their station.

Steph was intercepted by a cluster of Rangers standing nearby, watching the proceedings with a grim set to their mouths.

Penelope clipped across the hall towards Steph, stopping shy of the frenzied activity so as not to impede the workers. She heard snatches of rapid conversation from the Healers and gathered Rangers.

"—spirits aren't taking, they're slipping away—"

"—weren't enough left, not after the dragon—"

"—need to move him to the sigil casting, we can't lose anymore—"

Over the clipped chatter, Penelope heard Steph's panicked questions directed at the Ranger clasping him by the shoulder.

"Why is he coughing blood? What's happening? Is he going to be alright? He's going to be alright, isn't he?" Though Steph's voice was desperate, he stepped aside as the Healers moved through the crowd carrying Callum on a cloth litter.

Penelope, Steph, and the small group of Rangers trailed behind as the Healers stepped towards the centre of the ballroom where sigils continued to glow across the marble.

Penelope watched in horror as Callum was laid out on the floor within the lines of fiery runes, grunting in agony.

"He bit his tongue," the Ranger by Steph explained in quiet tones. "The Healers are working to restore the spirits the ferrifae tore from him... but most of them were lost amongst the dragon's lights. We... we aren't sure there's enough gathered to restore what was taken...... they"—the Ranger pointed at a group of Rangers and robed workers crowded around the crucibles of collected spirits—"are trying to find Callum's spirits, but..."

The Ranger trailed off, though Penelope could see the task was nearly impossible; sparkling mists of all colours swirled together within the crucibles, dragon indistinguishable from man.

Nonetheless, the workers were efficiently grouping them by colour, quickly clustering the oranges, blues, and golds together.

"The runes will stop his spirits slipping away through the floor as they work," the Ranger continued. "Even so, they don't seem to be reabsorbing..."

A Healer hunched over Callum's side and used a thin wand of polished quartz to coil up a stream of light from a crucible by her knee. Twirling the crystal rod, she lay a shimmering line of spirits along his shoulder and down his arm. The misty light flared and sparkled, sinking into Callum's form as he groaned through clenched teeth.

The Healer knelt back, assessing with a hopeful gaze, before her brow furrowed. Callum twitched and shuddered as the mist reappeared, spilling from his limb to pool on the floor beside him.

The audience clustered in the balconies murmured in growing alarm as they watched.

The King and Queen were conversing with another robed figure, exchanging looks of sorrow. The King gave a sharp nod and the figure strode from the room through an archway beside the throne dais.

Ethan was overseeing the crowd sorting through the crucibles, tersely waving away the Healer attempting to treat his burn.

Moments later, more robed figures poured into the room, approaching the half-sorted array of crucibles with hurried steps. They relieved the Rangers from the task and began examining the crucibles with instruments of copper and crystal.

With nothing more to do but wait, the Rangers clustered into a tense guard around Callum and the Healers.

Penelope strained to hear what the Healers by Callum's side were saying.