Chapter 82: Insane Love Stories
Iyana's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the dim light filtering through the high windows of the ward. The rough-hewn stone walls spoke of an age long past.
She tried to move, but a sharp pain shot through her shoulder, followed closely by a throbbing ache in her head. She winced, the agony anchoring her to the straw-filled mattress beneath her.
Gingerly, she turned her head and saw Vyan, his tall frame unmistakable even from this angle. He stood a few paces away, engaged in a hushed conversation with a man in his late thirties.
They spoke in low tones, their voices blending with the distant ramming of the rain against the roof of the ward.
Iyana's mind raced, trying to piece together how she had ended up here.
The last thing she remembered was the chaos of the accident and jumping to protect Vyan and then... darkness.
Her eyes focused on Vyan. The lines of worry etched deep into his features were a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor.
The man with Vyan glanced her way, his sharp eyes assessing her condition before returning to the conversation. He seemed like a doctor well-versed in mending broken bodies.
She strained to hear, catching snippets about herbs and poultices, the ancient remedies that had kept their people alive for generations.
Vyan nodded and turned to meet Iyana's gaze. Relief washed over his face, and he took a step towards her, the man following closely behind.
"How do you feel?" Vyan's voice was soft, but the concern in his eyes spoke volumes.
"Like I have been trampled by a herd of elephants," Iyana managed a weak smile, wincing at the effort.
The doctor stepped forward. "Rest, Lady Iyana. The worst is over, but you must give your body time to heal."
Iyana nodded, feeling the exhaustion pulling her back into the depths of sleep.
"Lord Harvey, how much time will it take for her to get all better?" Vyan asked, his eyes lingering on the sleeping form of Iyana.
"I will soon be sending a few of your men to bring some healing potions, so I would say a week?" Harvey answered, and Vyan nodded.
"Thank you so much for coming with me," Vyan said with gratitude.
"To be honest, I was so surprised when you popped out of thin air in front of me," Harvey chuckled softly. "I was not expecting to see you at all today."
"Well, you are the best doctor I know, so who else would I have gone to?"
"Even so, with your mana exhaustion last night, I was scared you would die if you performed another spell this soon," Harvey shook his head in amusement. "But thank Heavens, you are still fine. It turns out I worried for nothing. The Ashstones really are on God-level."
"Right," Vyan laughed, the sound hollow and empty.
"By the way, you should get your wounds treated as well," Harvey proposed.
Vyan's hand reached out to gently touch Iyana's hair, a faint smile on his face as he took in her sight of peacefully sleeping, as if he was conveying, I am glad you are going to be okay.
"Yes, let's go."
———
In the grand celestial expanse of the heavens, where stars shimmered like diamonds and clouds glowed with ethereal light, the Goddess of Magic, Hecate, stood on a floating island.
Her silver hair flowed like liquid starlight, and her red eyes sparkled with mischief. She was grinning, a sight which was rare and captivating.
From the shadows of a nearby obsidian archway, the God of Death, Pluto, emerged.
His presence was draped in robes as dark as the void, with eyes that held the secrets of the afterlife. He approached Hecate with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Hecate," Pluto intoned, his stern gaze fixed on her gleaming face, "what has brought such a rare smile to your lips? May I ask what occasion warrants such delight?"
Hecate turned to him, her grin widening. "Ah, Pluto, my somber friend. It's not often you see me in such high spirits, is it? But look at this."
She gestured to the mortal realm below, where Vyan came to sit beside Iyana after getting treated by Harvey. There was a cloud of conflict on Vyan's face, his eyes sad.
"That girl," Pluto mumbled, his deep voice resonating like a distant thunderstorm, "I know her. If I am correct, her life was supposed to come to an end tomorrow morning. But quite shockingly, the date altered on its own. So, was it you who did it?"
"Not at all, it was the doing of that child," Hecate pointed at Vyan. "He changed the date of her demise," she simply said. "Do you know that child sacrificed ten years of his life to save that girl?"
"Huh?" Pluto looked baffled at first, and then, his gaze narrowed, "Did you do this again?" he frowned. "I told you not to offer the mortals deals like that, didn't I? Don't you know it increases my work?"
Hecate chuckled, a sound like tinkling bells with an edge of danger. "I know, but what could I do when my poor child was so desperate?"
"Why couldn't he just sacrifice one of his latent magical abilities? I mean, he doesn't know how much longer he has to live. He could now die tomorrow for all he knows."
"That's what makes it so thrilling," she smiled. "The way he gambled with his life for that girl. The way some humans love is so fascinating, isn't it?"
Pluto's expression softened a little, but it again became strict. "Well, yes, but as far as I can tell, that human is not particularly a good one, is he now?"
Her grin didn't falter. "Does it matter if he is good or evil? I have always rather found the love stories of the heartless ones more amusing," she said with a wink. "The more insane they are, the better."
Pluto shook his head, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Only you could find amusement in such insane love stories. But make sure not to tilt the balance too much, though."
Hecate waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, I know the limits. And don't worry, dear Pluto. If things get too out of hand, I will be there to fix it. After all, what fun is magic if it doesn't stir the pot a little?"
Pluto nodded, a hint of admiration in his gaze. "Very well. Just remember, I will be watching."
With that, he turned and disappeared back into the shadows, leaving Hecate to her musings.
———
At the accident site, Clyde carefully inspected the toppled first carriage, scouring for any clue that could explain its downfall.
Yet, despite his thorough examination, nothing stood out as a definitive cause.
Suddenly, a mage hurried over, breathless from his recent discovery. "Lord Clyde," he began urgently, "I ventured into the forest for a brief moment, and I happened to stumble upon some fresh footprints."
Clyde's brow furrowed in disbelief. "What?"
"It appears," the mage continued, his voice tinged with concern, "that several individuals were lurking in the forest just until some time ago."
In that moment, realization dawned on Clyde with chilling clarity.
This… was no mere accident.
It was a meticulously orchestrated ambush.
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