The air filled with arcane murmurs as the medical witches raised their green orbs in unison. The light emanating from them wasn't just healing—it was discipline, a silent oath that no weakness of the prince would be left exposed. The ground lit up in geometric patterns, and the energy spread like living roots through the space around Kael.
The division chief took two steps forward. Her silver cape trailed in the dust and blood, but she didn't seem to care. When she finally approached him, her midnight-black eyes softened for a brief moment.
"With your permission..." she said, her voice low but firm.
Kael inclined his head lazily, as if her gesture were more ritual than necessity.
"Do it quickly." Her voice was thick with impatience. "I'm still waiting to feel back what was stolen from me."
