"It's about time we woke him up."
Aveline glanced at the still-sleeping Lugh, her expression uncertain. The boy's sleeves remained pulled up, exposing the gruesome, self-inflicted wounds that marred his forearm.
The incomplete runic symbol carved into his skin still pulsed red, irritated and angry. It would have bled, had Selaphiel not intervened.
She was the one who had treated the injury, carefully halting the bleeding—but notably, she had chosen not to cover the wound afterward.
Instead, she left it exposed, studying the half-formed rune with clinical precision, as if trying to decipher something important in its chaotic strokes.
Aveline pursed her lips, a crease forming on her brow as she asked hesitantly,
"Is it okay to wake him? He won't… you know… lose his mind or something, right?"
Selaphiel rolled her eyes in response, her tone dismissive.
"Stop exaggerating the issue,"
She chided, before stepping forward and shaking Lugh lightly by the shoulder.
