Seiren whipped around. A figure lay collapsed on the ground, a mop of blonde curls tangled on the stone cobbles. Her heart leapt to her throat. Her eyes darted to the escaping figures, but her body tore towards the fallen mage.

"Loren!" Seiren's voice cracked. She landed on her knees, ignoring the spears of pain shooting up her thighs. A thin drizzle coated her shoulders. Her face tingled, turning numb. Trembling hands swept Loren's blonde hair off her face. On the ground beside Loren was a rune Seiren had never seen before. It didn't follow the standard rules of rune magic of double circles and locks: a square base with four petals blooming from the centre, connected by a diamond within its centre, drawn in a thick, sticky, crimson substance that flowed in a constant direction, mixed with an unnatural white glow. Even as she looked, shivers went down her spine: what awful magic. Did Loren create this to protect herself against the two attackers? "What is this -- what happened?"

Loren's eyes were sunken in, barely able to focus on Seiren. She didn't have any wounds -- there was no puddle of blood pooling anywhere except for a thick gash at her left wrist that was now just a thin trickle. It didn't explain why she was so deathly pale and her face so gaunt. Each breath came as a rasp.

Seiren's heart rammed against her ribcage, running through all the runes she knew in her head. No green rune could reverse this when she didn't even know what this was. She would never dare use the experimental runes she'd created on Loren; none of them worked, anyhow. Her mind was in too much of a mess to use chaos magic. With desperation, she tried to conjure up a positive image. Loren, sipping tea, giving her prompts when she was trying to heal Bonsie's gaping wound on its belly. Bonsie, not a care in the world, purring away as Seiren fussed over the messy wound sealing up. Loren making her dinner after a long day at work.

Her hands glowed white. Her mouth dried.

The chaos magic didn't extend from her hands onto Loren's body as it had with Bonsie's. Loren could only look at her, as if desperate to say something to her, but lacking the energy.

"Don't worry, Loren. I'll f-f-figure out something." Seiren's stammer only made her panic worse. Blood drummed in her ears and her hands shook worse than autumn leaves. What else was there to do? With every passing second, Loren's life faded away. The peculiar rune continued to flow within its strange design. Almost out of desperation, Seiren reached to sweep it away.

Don't touch it! Madeleine screeched. Seiren froze.

But--

Just don't touch it! It's horrible magic. I can feel the agony just flowing from it. This is the devil's magic. Don't touch it!

Seiren had never heard Madeleine so hysterical before. With a numb mind, she could only stare down at Loren, whose hand clutched hers. Chaos magic flowed from Loren into Seiren.

"What are you doing? I'm trying to heal you!" Seiren said, eyes wide. "No--"

"She's... alive..." Loren whispered. Her voice was so weak, her next words were drowned by just a gust of wind. The flow of chaos magic ebbed and ceased. "Ker..."

"Ker...?" Seiren repeated, puzzled. "What do you... Loren? Loren!"

She was still breathing, but her eyes gaped blankly at the sky. The peculiar rune glowed beside her body. The whole scene made Seiren numb and sick at the same time. Loren, who had been so lively and so present, looking nothing more than a breathing doll, devoid of her bright personality. There was barely a thread of magic left in her hand that Seiren almost crushed in desperation.

"Loren! Loren, wake up!" The sense of familiarity -- a person whom she was fond of, staring unseeingly at her face -- hit her like a tide that buried her in sorrow and despair. The hand touching Seiren's was icy. "No! No no no! Loren! Please!"

She shook her. Loren's head flopped, the breaths shallow and erratic.

"Don't die! You can't die! Loren!" Her voice cracked. "You've still got to teach me chaos magic! And what about Rowan -- I thought you guys were friends for life? And the kids at the infirmary? They need you! Wake up!"

The big silvery grey eyes were glassy, unblinking.

"What about Bonsie?!"

Only the gentle whoosh of the wind answered her. Heaving, Seiren set her down with shaking hands and stood up with knees that barely supported her weight. It was so surreal. The ground beneath her boots ebbed and flowed like the waves of the sea. The air was suffocating, too warm. The drizzling rain plastered her blonde hair to her face. The rune beside Loren grew brighter until it hit a crescendo.

"Get the hell away from her!" came a strangled voice from ahead. Numb, Seiren looked up. A short figure in a black cloak dashed down the same stone steps the two mages had escaped up. She stepped back, barely processing what was going on. Rowan's hood fell off, revealing a bloodless face and terrified eyes. He landed on his knees and picked up Loren just as Seiren had. "Oh bloody runes... what the hell? Loren! Get up!"

He shook her just as Seiren had. Loren's head flopped without strength.

"What... get me a healer, now!" he hollered over his shoulders. One of his aides sprinted away. "Loren, come on, you idiot. Wake up. Don't do this to me... what the hell happened? Loren!"

Even as he spoke, Loren's breathing became slower. Her long arms and legs, tangled in her mage's black, rainbow-lined cloak, lay so still on the wet stone floor.

"It's too late..." Seiren whispered. Her mind was numb; her face only felt pins and needles. The world swirled around her. She'd seen dead bodies before: her father's and Madeleine's. The sallow features, sunken cheeks, half-opened but unseeing eyes, the shallow breaths that paused for longer and longer each time until they eventually stop.

Rowan bent over Loren like a statue. His shoulders began to shake.

"No... no... I don't understand..." His voice trembled. He gripped her body close to his. His words dissolved into weeping, with such heartbreak Seiren's own heart twisted and burned. The sobs floated into the air amongst the drizzle. His remaining aide, the female, innocent-faced one, could only watch with wet eyes, gripping the front of her murky green military uniform.

"Step away, Rowan Woodbead," came a commanding, hoarse voice from the top of the steps.

Seiren turned, dumb. Kommora Haigh swept down the stairs, pausing when she saw Loren lying in Rowan's arms. Her face paled and her lips pinched together so tight until they disappeared.

"Secure the area," she said over her shoulder. Her two aides jumped to action. "Bring me all the mages available and all the military personnel stationed in this sector. We're sectioning off this area: nobody comes in, nobody goes out."

She approached Rowan, whose head was bowed. He'd lai Loren back onto the ground.

"I said step away, Woodbead."

"What did you do?" he whispered.

"What was that?"

"What did you do?!" he roared, whipping around and covering the distance between himself and Seiren in one leap. He grabbed the front of her travel cloak and yanked her towards him, her neck snapping backwards in the process. His eyes had a crazed look. Spit flew hit her cheeks as he thrust his face up to hers. "How could you do that to your own comrade? Didn't she teach you magic? Didn't she house you? How dare you do this to her?!"

"I didn't..." Seiren stammered, bewildered. Then it clicked. "You think I did this to her?"

"Who else?" Rowan said, his eyes bulging. "You killed her! I told you magic shouldn't be used to raise the dead. Admit it -- you can't control it!"

"I didn't do anything!" she screamed, fire exploding all over her skin. There was a buzz in her ears. Rowan thought she'd killed Loren? And for experimentation, of all things?

He yanked her even closer. "You're a murderer, Seiren Nithercott. That dangerous magic of yours, you can't convince anyone, not even yourself. I bet Loren wasn't even the first you'd killed--"

Seiren snapped. Her fist flew back and smashed straight into Rowan's face. He flinched back. Blood sprayed the air. He stumbled backwards; his aide, Dent, caught him without too much trouble.

Someone grabbed Seiren's hands, twisting them upwards and backwards. She screamed, agony tearing through her shoulder joint. She kicked backwards, hitting nothing but air.

"I didn't kill her!" she screamed. "It wasn't me!"

"That is enough!" Kommora said. Her voice was quiet, but deadly silence fell. Her eyes held a threatening fire. "Detain them. The two of them. Right now."

At once, the power disappeared from Seiren's hands. Binding runes. She turned her head. Binding her hands in a line of runed material was one of Rowan's aides, the female one with the boyish haircut. She couldn't care less what her name was.

"Loren! Loren!" Rowan's voice grew hoarse.

"Shut up, Woodbead," said Kommora. She didn't raise her voice, but the temperature dropped by several degrees. Seiren's hair plastered to her head. Rain fell in rivulets down her temple, dripping onto the ground. Her breath came up in small puffs of mist. "Healers, take her away, right now."

People in white, dressed in uniform not unlike those who worked at Bicknor Infirmary, appeared and crowded Loren before taking her away. The way her breathing was so shallow and the empty way her eyes stared, she might as well have been dead. Seiren watched, numb.

"Right, Nithercott." Kommora turned to Seiren, who raised her head with aching muscles. "You're coming with me."

As Seiren was led away, her hands still clamped behind her back and her magic drained by the binding runes, she could feel the hateful glares from Rowan burning into her neck. Her heart raced. The two mysterious mages, the deadly rune -- now vanished, Loren, almost dead...

She's alive... Ker...

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