While her mother hurriedly called for healers, Isolde went to the garden, her arms trembling as she slowly lowered it and caressed Shireen's fur.
Pain and anger mixed in her heart as Shireen whimpered and roared softly. From day one, Shireen had been there; it was like a second mother to her. And now a pool of blood had formed beneath her, as it seeped from the wound at the neck.
As powerful as Isolde was, she wasn't a healer. Her dragons had all sorts of abilities but they were all aimed towards destruction. Few of them had skills that allowed them to self-heal but healing others was a skill none had.
Christine rushed out, gently holding Shireen's head with tear-filled eyes. Her summon was dying.
"She won't last much longer. I'll send you to the hospital," Isolde said firmly. Knowing their weakness, the family had established a hospital with adept healing summoners.
Christine retrieved Shireen and was consumed by a violet orb, reappearing right in the hospital.
