In an instant, the door to Lady Amelia's bedroom swung open, the floral-carved wood slamming against the wall and recoiling violently as it struck Hyrne's left arm. He rushed through, cradling something in his arms, his focus fixed on the large, dishevelled bed before him.
A sudden shifting of weight settled onto the crumpled blue sheets, slipping from Hyrne's embrace and causing it to sink slightly into the soft-feathered mattress. He moved instinctively towards the large pillows by the wide headboard and gently lifted a small head, feeling the damp, but soft blonde hair brush against his hand as he drew back and stood, staring down at the tiny form below.
"Amelia, what in heaven's name happened to you?" Perplexed and bewildered, Hyrne was gripped by a profound sense of worry that shook him to his very core, locking him into place.
On the unmade bed lay Amelia, the sole daughter of the Vayreban estate, sprawled out and covered in thick dirt from head to toe. Her right arm, smeared with mud, hung perilously close to the edge of the bed, appearing almost lifeless. Her shallow breathing was faint and barely perceptible, evoking the image of someone teetering on the brink between life and death.
Hyrne whipped around, his head and left arm pivoting towards the open doorway, his hazel eyes wide with panic. "Hurry!" He extended his dirt-smeared hand, silently summoning assistance from someone just outside the bedroom who had barely managed to keep pace.
A shifting shadow loomed over Hyrne, obscuring the light from the landing.
An older woman stumbled into the room, leaning on the doorframe, her head bowed and her breathing laboured, her long brown hair occasionally brushing against her face.
Dressed in a navy blue uniform with white trim, Louvan, the handmaid, shifted inside, cradling a cream-white bowl in her arms. The contents were slowly sloshing from side to side, threatening to spill onto the dirt-streaked red carpet beneath her feet and onto her crumpled attire. She carefully extended her arms forward, making a concerted effort not to spill anything as she presented the bowl to the man before her.
Her gentle hands lightened instantly.
"Come on, pass it here now!" Worry and dread laced Hyrne's voice as he took away the bowl from Louvan and set it on the bed beside Amelia's dirt-covered legs. The sharp, pungent scent of yarrow and mysterious herbs invaded his nostrils as it escaped its confines, causing him to recoil momentarily as the sickly odour clung uncomfortably to his throat with every breath.
Hyrne looked back towards the door, coughing once as he put a hand to his mouth and swallowed hard and deep, hoping his spit would dilute the discomfort even for a moment as he moved away from the bowl.
"Louvan, please find Eral and any maids still at the manor you come across and send them here!" Hyrne dropped to the floor and rushed to the bottom drawer beside the bed, clearly ripping it from the ornate oak unit and rifling through the spare clothing and towels. He extracted handfuls of clean garments and white cloth, carelessly tossing them up and onto the bed in a disordered pile on the edge. In the corner of his vision he noticed that Louvan remained rooted in place, her expression one of dread and shock, which rendered her as motionless as a statue, just like his own when he found Amelia just moments ago at the back of the Manor.
Waving his hand, trying to grab Louvan's attention, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, LOUVAN? GET ERAL AND THE MAIDS RIGHT NOW! MOVE!" Hyrne's anger and frustration boiled over, his voice rising into a fierce set of commands that jolted Louvan back to reality, breaking the spell that had rendered her unresponsive.
Louvan cast a glance at Hyrne, still waving his hand before her gaze shifted to the bed; the horror of the scene finally registered in her mind, igniting a distant memory that flashed before her eyes and triggered something within her to snap. Stuttering, "Ye-yes!" she gasped, clutching at her chest as she desperately searched for the necklace hidden beneath her clothing. In a sudden burst of determination, she turned and fled the room, lunging away.
A small comfort washed over Hyrne as he heard Louvan's tiny feet pattering against the wooden floor, her worn heels echoing down the hall toward the main atrium. The sound reverberated through the upper manor with each step she took. "Hurry, Louvan, please hurry," he muttered, his heart gripped by fear and worry, a deep ache settling in his chest.
Almost inaudible, a sudden, faint moan escaped from the bed as an arm weakly lifted and then fell back down, desperately grasping for something. "No… Don't… Leave me," Amelia cried out, her voice laced with pain as her breathing quickened and became more laboured with each passing second.
Hyrne seized the clean pieces of clothing and tore them at the edges, pulling apart the seams as he fashioned them into large strips. "Don't worry, my lady, I am here with you! Miss Louvan will be back with Eral at any moment now." He soaked each torn piece in the foul mixture, dipping them into the semi-warm liquid before wiping Amelia's arm from shoulder to wrist.
Bit by bit, the murky brown soil that enveloped Amelia dissolved, covering the makeshift towels with grime that clung to Hyrne's hands, almost infectious in its ability to transfer from one surface to another.
In a comforting tone, Hyrne said, "Let's get you cleaned up, little miss…" He continued to wipe Amelia's soiled arms and legs until he suddenly froze, mirroring Louvan, who stood by the door, both of them caught in the same unsettling spell that seemed to transfer from one person to another.
A pungent scent of iron filled his nostrils, overpowering the aroma of burnt yarrow that lingered in the air.
Streaks of red streamed from Amelia's right arm, pooling onto the bed as they seeped from a now-open wound that had gone unnoticed; the injury, previously constrained by the mud, had finally broken free.
"HELP! FOR GOD'S SAKE, SOMEONE HELP ME! LOUVAN, ERAL!" Hyrne shouted in desperation, pressing his hand against the soaked cloths as they turned crimson, a warm, unsettling sensation spreading across his palms.
Amelia arched upwards and screamed in pain… Howling.