The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the castle halls as Mirelith walked with purpose, unaware that she had stumbled upon one of the most crucial places during the chaos— the infirmary. The doors creaked open, and she entered, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The room was filled with wounded soldiers and civilians, their faces drawn in pain, their bodies battered and broken. The air was thick with the scent of blood and medicine.

The doctor, an old, gray-haired man, was rushing between patients, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up as Mirelith entered, his eyes scanning her quickly before he approached her with an air of urgency.

"You there!" he barked, his voice hoarse. "You look able-bodied. Come here, quickly. We are short on hands. One of the knights is in dire need of attention. Can you help?"

Mirelith froze for a split second. Her heart raced as she surveyed the room. The chaos outside had spilled into the castle, and now the very foundation of the kingdom was crumbling. But there was no time to think—only to act.

Nodding quickly, she moved toward the knight the doctor had indicated. His arm was badly injured, a deep gash running from his shoulder to his elbow. Mirelith's mind instantly went to work, recalling the healing techniques she had learned in secret, a passion of hers that she had never shared with anyone.

She had always been drawn to the art of healing. When she was younger, she would sneak into the royal library and study old texts on medicine, learning about herbs, stitches, and salves. It had been a quiet escape, a way to center herself. And now, in this moment of chaos, it was her secret knowledge that would help save lives.

Without hesitation, she grasped the knight's arm gently, examining the wound carefully before cleaning it and wrapping it tightly with bandages. Her hands moved quickly, efficiently, working with the precision of someone who had long practiced in the shadows. She finished the task just as the doctor gave her a curt nod of approval.

The air outside suddenly became charged with an ominous energy. Mirelith's head snapped up, her attention drawn to the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

Before she could react, the infirmary doors burst open with a loud crash. Mirelith spun around, her heart leaping in her chest, only to find Sophia staggering inside. Her fiery hair was disheveled, her face pale with fear, and she was breathing heavily, clutching the doorframe for support.

"Mia's trapped in the western quarter!" Sophia cried, her voice trembling with urgency. "She didn't make it back before the attack started!"

She didn't hesitate.

"I'll go," Mirelith said, her voice calm but firm, despite the storm of emotions brewing inside her.

Sophia's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't! It's too dangerous!" Her voice broke as she stepped closer, grabbing Mirelith's arm. "The outside are crawling with Dunmere army! You'll be killed!"

Mirelith's gaze hardened. She gently pulled away from Sophia's grip, her resolve unwavering. "Mia's my friend. I won't abandon her."

Without another word, Mirelith slipped out of the infirmary through the back entrance, her heart pounding in her chest as she darted through the hallways, with Sophia running at her side.

The two women made their way toward the garden, the dim light casting long shadows as they passed fallen bodies of knights who had given their lives to protect the castle. The sight sent a pang of sorrow through Mirelith's heart, but there was no time to mourn.

Sophia, ever the pragmatist, spotted a fallen knight nearby and, without hesitation, took his sword. "This might come in handy," she muttered as she strapped it to her side.

They reached the garden's entrance, but just as they were about to cross the threshold, a faint cry rang out—a woman's desperate plea.

"Please, don't!"

Mirelith's instincts kicked in. Without thinking, she sprinted toward the sound, with Sophia close behind her. They rounded a corner and saw Mia trapped against a stone wall, three armed men from Dunmere standing threateningly around her, swords drawn.

Without a second thought, Sophia grabbed a stone from the ground and hurled it at the closest man, distracting him long enough for Mirelith to rush forward and pull Mia out of the immediate danger.

"Mia, come on!" Mirelith hissed as she dragged her friend away, but the three Dunmere soldiers immediately turned toward them.

Sophia, though clearly terrified, stood her ground, brandishing the sword she had taken from the fallen knight. "Stay back! We'll fight you!" she declared, her voice trembling but defiant.

The three men laughed, their eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "You think you can stop us?" one of them taunted.

But just as the tension reached its peak, a familiar voice rang out, followed by the thunder of hooves.

"Step away from them!" Caius's commanding tone sliced through the chaos.

In a flash, Caius, Victor, and Felix appeared, their weapons drawn. The Dunmere soldiers hesitated for a moment, but they quickly realized they were outmatched.

Within moments, the three men were disarmed and subdued. Felix and Victor ensured the soldiers were restrained while Caius turned to the women, his gaze hard but full of concern.

"Are you all, alright?" he asked, his eyes scanning Sophia, Mia, and Mirelith quickly, taking in their appearance.

Sophia nodded, though she looked shaken. Mia, now safe, clung to Mirelith for support, tears of relief in her eyes.

Caius's gaze turned to Mirelith, his expression softening. "You're lucky to be alive," he said, his voice laced with disapproval. "What were you thinking, rushing into danger like that?"

Mirelith met his gaze, her heart pounding as she struggled to find the right words. "I couldn't just let Mia suffer," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the rush of emotions inside her.

Caius shook his head but couldn't hide the flicker of admiration in his eyes. "You were foolish," he said, though there was a rare hint of warmth in his tone. "But... you were brave."

Mirelith's heart skipped a beat as she looked at him, his words a balm and a burden all at once.

Sophia, now recovered, gave Mirelith a meaningful look, and the two of them followed the men as they led Mia to safety. But as Mirelith walked beside them, her mind was elsewhere, lingering on Caius's words. He had called her brave—but was it enough to bridge the gap that still stood between them?