The marble halls of Mystic Academy were quiet by the time Kalista and Darenn returned, save for the distant hum of enchanted lanterns and the soft shuffle of the night staff.
The doors of the hospital wing opened with a low creak, revealing the soft white glow of healing crystals embedded along the ceiling.
"Sit down," the nurse said sharply, barely glancing up from her glowing clipboard. "You're bleeding on the floor."
Darenn obeyed with a wince, peeling off the makeshift bandage from his arm. The deep gash left by the Machea shimmered faintly with residual heat, angry and raw.
Kalista lingered by the door, arms folded across her chest, looking anywhere but at him.
The nurse muttered a few incantations under her breath. Pale blue magic wrapped around Darenn's arm, cleaning the wound before weaving through the muscle and bone. He didn't flinch, though his knuckles turned white.
