Imprisoned in the Orinovan priori labs, Ainreth undergoes torturous treatments daily in an attempt to crack the code to lightweaver creation. Things seem hopeless, until unlikely allies join his side to help him.
Meanwhile back home in Lys-Akkaria...
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Mhalyn came to slowly, her head floating. It was dark. And whatever she was laying on was moving, bumpy. There was a clip-clop noise. Where was she?
The last thing she remembered was being attacked by the person she had trusted the most just a month ago. And...dying.
She must have died. The only one who could have saved her was Daryan, but he wouldn't have, surely. Was this an afterlife?
Lys-Akkarians didn't truly believe in one, not like the people in Orinovo, but no one discounted the possibility. So maybe.
Mhalyn groaned as she reached up to touch her face. It didn't feel swollen anymore. She felt awful and a little sick, but otherwise she seemed okay. She could breathe normally, at least.
She frowned, though, as the back of her hand touched some kind of rough fabric while she had rubbed her cheek. She reached up, pressing against it a little. It was just above her face, nearly touching it.
Frowning more, her dizzy brain trying to make sense of this, she grasped at the fabric, pulling it down, only to nearly gasp as light poured into her eyes.
She covered her eyes, groaning as her head throbbed.
"You're awake," came a familiar, calm voice. Mhalyn squinted up at where the voice had come from, seeing a cloaked figure. With curly red hair.
"Petre," she breathed out. "I...what's going on?"
Mhalyn looked around, rubbing her forehead. She was laying on a wooden cart drawn by a horse. That would explain the bumpiness. And the noise that she was now realizing had been the sound of horse hoofs against cobblestone.
Kyr-Toryl was in the distance, looming above them through trees. Mhalyn had always found the way the capital had been built on top of a mountain comforting, like the city was watching over its country. But now all she felt was dread, the city a dark presence over her.
"We are leaving. Keep your voice down, please," Petre responded, prompting Mhalyn to pull the tarp that was covering her over her head to look less conspicuous. Right, Daryan had made his decree. It wasn't safe in Kyr-Toryl for them anymore. And neither was it safe for Mhalyn.
But one major question remained. "How am I alive?"
Petre turned away, nodding at Mhalyn's soft tone. "I found you with just enough time to give you something to nullify the allergy. At least I assumed that was what was happening. It seems I was right."
Tears pricked at Mhalyn's eyes at the reminder of what Daryan had done to her. It still hurt so much to think about. "Yes. I.... Daryan found me just as I found the drug. But I couldn't...." She sighed in defeat. "I didn't manage to get it."
Petre shook their head. "It's okay, Mhalyn. You went above and beyond. I'm just glad I managed to save you."
Mhalyn nodded, so grateful to Petre. "I really thought I was going to die. Thank you."
