"Alive," he whispered. Relief punched through his lungs like a fist. "He's alive—he's fucking alive."
Elara crouched beside him, already scanning the wound.
"…Mana overdraw," she said. "Deep laceration. Some kind of puncture along the collarbone—bitten?"
Nathan flinched. "By what?"
She didn't answer.
Because they both felt it.
A lingering pressure.
Something had been here.
Something stronger than Merlin.
Something strong enough to leave him like this.
Nathan carefully slid an arm under Merlin's back, trying not to jostle the wounds.
"Hey," he said, voice low. "C'mon. You're not allowed to pass out dramatically before we yell at you."
Merlin didn't stir.
Elara's fingers brushed across Keryx. She stared at the blade.
"…It's not cracked and not bloody at all.
Nathan looked at her. "So?"
"That sword wasn't used or didn't work against whatever Merlin faced."
He blinked. Slowly. "…You think he beat whatever did this to him?"
