Elliana held Cedric's gaze a moment longer.
Not to threaten him.
Not to intimidate him.
Simply to finish the thought.
Then she turned away.
Just like that.
The pressure vanished as if it had never existed. Knights collapsed to their knees, gasping. Lightning flickered once along Cedric's blade—then died entirely.
Elliana was already kneeling again.
Her full attention returned to Draven, and the world narrowed with it.
"All right," she said quietly, businesslike now. "Enough of that."
Her hands hovered over him again, shadows knitting tighter beneath his broken form, stabilizing him further.
"Before anything else," she continued, eyes scanning him with clinical precision, "we need to put you back together."
Draven huffed weakly. "Yeah… it's about time."
Her gaze flicked to his shoulders.
Then lower.
Then lower still.
Her jaw tightened.
"…Where are your limbs?" she asked flatly.
Draven blinked at her, rain dripping off his lashes.
"Uh," he started, then winced. "Damn… that's actually one question."
Elliana stared at him.
Unamused.
Draven swallowed. "I mean—I don't really know," he admitted. "But they didn't go far. It's not like the bastard had time to throw them away or anything."
A weak shrug tugged at one shoulder.
"Somewhere around here. Probably."
For a moment, Elliana said nothing.
Then she inhaled.
Slow. Measured. Deep enough that the shadows around her shifted in response.
"…Of course," she murmured.
She rose smoothly to her feet, silver eyes sweeping across the ruined clearing. Mud, shattered stone, scorched earth, broken trees—everything illuminated in brief flashes of lightning.
"Stay still," she said.
Her gaze sharpened as she took it all in.
Draven snorted faintly. "Wasn't planning on sightseeing."
"Now," Elliana added calmly, "wait just a moment."
The shadows around her feet folded inward.
Then—without sound, without flare, without warning—
Elliana vanished.
Not a teleport. Not a flash.
She simply wasn't there anymore.
The shadows collapsed in on themselves, leaving only rain and silence behind.
Draven stared at the empty space where his mother had been, rain dripping onto his face.
"…Huh," he muttered weakly.
Somewhere in the storm-shrouded forest, shadows were already moving.
And something that had been scattered—
was about to be found.
The shadows rippled.
And Elliana was there again.
No warning. No transition.
One heartbeat she was gone—
the next, she stood beside Draven once more, rain parting around her like it remembered its place.
In her hands—
was his leg and arms.
Both of them.
Cleanly severed at the shoulder, shadows coiled around the wounds to keep them from bleeding further. The limbs looked wrong outside his body—too still, too quiet—but unmistakably his.
Elliana didn't look shaken.
She didn't look angry.
She looked… relieved.
"Got them, honey," she said simply, as if she'd just returned from another room. "Now let's put them back in place."
Draven's eyes widened slightly.
"…That was fast," he muttered.
She knelt beside him again, setting one arm down carefully, reverently, as though handling something precious. Shadows flowed from her fingers, spreading along the limb like ink, mapping bone, muscle, tendon.
"Try not to move," Elliana instructed gently.
The shadows beneath Draven shifted only enough to keep him steady in the mud.
"As if I could," Draven huffed weakly.
The corner of her mouth twitched.
She lifted the first arm, aligning it with his shoulder with impossible precision. Perfectly.
"Hold still," she said.
Draven gave a faint huff. "Pretty sure I'm stuck like this anyway."
She pressed the limb into place.
There was a dull, wet contact as bone seated against bone.
Then Draven's body responded.
Muscle tightened inward on its own, fibers drawing together with slow, inevitable certainty. Tendons caught, pulling themselves into alignment. Skin followed, closing the seam as if the separation had never been more than a mistake.
No glow.
No external force.
Just flesh remembering itself.
Draven's breathing steadied as sensation returned, muted but present. The arm twitched once—then rested, whole.
Elliana watched closely.
"Good," she murmured.
She repeated the process with the second arm.
Again, his body did the work.
Muscle closed.
Sinew held.
Skin sealed.
When she released it, the limb was already his again.
She moved to the leg.
Draven swallowed once. "Let's not leave that one off."
Elliana nodded and pressed it into place.
Bone seated.
Muscle drew tight.
Flesh reclaimed itself.
When it was done, Draven lay in the mud, breathing evenly, rain washing blood from skin that was no longer broken—only exhausted.
That was when—
Steel rang through the clearing.
A body tore through the underbrush and skidded across the mud.
The maid rose instantly.
Slim. Poised. Alive.
She stepped into the clearing, clothes torn, rain plastering her hair to her face. A thin cut marked her jaw, but her eyes snapped immediately to Draven.
Behind her, Kaela moved through the trees, following the maid, but paused at the edge of the clearing, watching the scene unfold with focused attention.
"My lord—" the maid began, then stopped.
Elliana.
The limbs restored.
The maid dropped to one knee without hesitation.
"…My lady," she said. "I apologize. I was delayed."
Elliana didn't look at her. She was watching Draven—his breathing, his life returning, fully and steadily.
"Did you do your duty," Elliana asked calmly.
Her gaze finally lifted, settling on the maid—not harsh, not raised, but immovable.
The words were not a question.
"I very clearly remember ordering you to protect him," she continued, voice calm but edged with something far older than anger. "So tell me—how did you allow this to happen?"
The air tightened.
Not violently.
Not explosively.
Like a ledger being opened.
Her silver eyes did not blink.
"Explain."