Chapter 229: Finding Lydia
Aveline felt a sharp tug at her hair.
She frowned and slowly opened her eyes, still trapped beneath the weight of restless sleep. Hamilton was perched beside her pillow, his tiny jaws firmly gripping a strand of her hair while he tugged insistently. His little wings fluttered in frantic bursts, his amber eyes fixed on her with unusual urgency.
Despite everything, a tired smile tugged at her lips. She reached out and stroked his tiny head. "What is it, Hamilton?"
A whisper brushed across her mind. Not through her ears. Not spoken aloud.
"Lydia..."
Aveline’s smile vanished. Her eyes snapped fully open.
She sat upright so abruptly that Hamilton stumbled backward onto the blanket before scrambling onto his feet again.
"...Hamilton?"
Her heart quickened.
She had understood him; not his emotions or vague impressions like she usually sensed from the magical creatures.
A word. A clear word.
She stared at the tiny creature. "Did... did you just speak to me?"
Hamilton gave no answer. He simply hopped onto the edge of the bed and stared toward the window, every trace of his usual playful clumsiness gone. His tiny body was tense, alert.
Aveline’s stomach tightened.
She hurried from her bed and crossed into Lydia’s room. The bed was untouched. The blankets were still neatly folded. No one had slept there.
A chill crept over her skin. "Lydia?"
There was no answer.
She looked back toward Hamilton. "Do you know where she is?"
The little creature didn’t even look at her. His gaze remained fixed outside. Something about that silence frightened her more than any words could.
Aveline hurried to the window and pushed it open. Cold dawn air rushed into the room. She frowned.
Smoke. There was smoke in the distance.
Without thinking, she climbed through the window onto the roof.
The higher vantage revealed far more than the courtyard below.
Here and there and on the edge of the Arcanum grounds, blue flames burst intermittently into the sky before being swallowed by torrents of water conjured by rushing guards. Fire-benders and water-benders moved frantically around the fires, shouting orders she couldn’t make out from this distance.
Something had happened.
She climbed back down without another thought.
Hamilton was already waiting down.
For once, he wasn’t flapping his wings or stumbling over his own feet. He simply walked forward with quiet purpose, glancing back only once to make sure she followed.
Aveline did.
The farther they went, the quieter the Arcanum became.
Students had gathered in distant clusters, whispering among themselves, but none dared approach the abandoned section of the grounds.
Hamilton never hesitated.
He led her straight toward the old tower, where there was no one else. As it loomed before her, Aveline slowed.
The weathered stone walls rose like the skeleton of something long dead. Black scorch marks climbed its sides, and shattered windows gaped like empty eyes.
An inexplicable dread settled over her. It wasn’t merely fear. Her breathing became shallow.
She looked down at Hamilton. "Is... is Lydia in there?"
Hamilton stopped. He turned to face her. His amber eyes met hers. Then he gave the smallest nod.
Aveline swallowed. Every instinct told her to turn around. To run.
But she couldn’t.
She forced one trembling foot forward. Then another. The old wooden door creaked beneath her hand.
The smell hit her first.
Blood.
Burnt cloth.
Her stomach lurched.
"Lydia..." The whisper escaped her own lips as she stepped inside.
The room looked as though violence itself had taken form. Broken furniture lay scattered across the stone floor.
Splintered wood. Burn marks. Shredded fabric. Dark stains soaked into the cold stone.
Then she saw her... Lydia... Curled against the wall... Barely covered by torn remnants of clothing.
Her body was mottled with bruises that stretched from her shoulders to her legs. Dried blood stained her skin and pooled beneath her where she had collapsed. One side of her face was so swollen Aveline almost didn’t recognize her.
For one endless heartbeat...
Aveline couldn’t move.
Her mind refused to understand what her eyes were seeing.
No.
No...
"Lydia..."
She stumbled forward before dropping to her knees beside her.
Her shaking hands hovered helplessly over Lydia’s broken body, terrified that even touching her might cause more pain.
"Lydia..."
There...
The faintest rise of her chest.
She was breathing.
Relief and horror crashed together inside Aveline.
Lydia’s swollen eyelids fluttered open. For a brief moment, unfocused eyes searched the room before settling on Aveline.
Tears immediately welled in them.
"...Ava..."
It was barely a breath. A broken whisper. Then Lydia tried to smile. Instead she winced in agony.
"Please..." The word dissolved into a sob before consciousness abandoned her once more. "Lydia!"
Aveline gathered the girl carefully into her arms, cradling her as gently as she could. The warmth of blood soaked into her sleeves.
The sight shattered something inside her.
A scream tore from Aveline’s throat.
It was raw. Heartbroken. Filled with helpless rage that echoed through the abandoned tower before spilling into the silent grounds beyond.
She clutched Lydia tighter, her entire body trembling.
It was her fault.
She had been so consumed by her own grief... that she didn’t try to find her. If only she had looked for Lydia sooner. Maybe... maybe she wouldn’t have been alone.
What kind of friend was she?
Tears blurred her vision.
Hamilton climbed onto her shoulder and gently rubbed his tiny head against her cheek. He said nothing. He simply stayed there, as though reminding her to breathe, to remain standing, because Lydia still needed her.
Aveline squeezed her eyes shut.
She couldn’t fall apart.
Not now.
Just as she forced herself to steady her breathing, hurried footsteps echoed through the tower.
"Ava!"
A familiar voice.
Lucien burst into the room. His eyes immediately found Aveline kneeling on the bloodstained floor with Lydia in her arms.
"What happened? Who’s—"
His words died.
Aveline looked up at him, tears streaming freely down her face.
"Look..." she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking beneath the weight of her grief. "Look what they did to my friend, Old Man..."
Lucien’s gaze shifted to Lydia.
For a brief instant... He froze.
The bruises, the torn clothing, the blood... The sight ripped open wounds he had spent decades trying to bury.
Another face, another gentle girl, another child whose light had been nearly extinguished by human cruelty...
His hands trembled.
Then, with visible effort, he forced himself back to the present.
Without a word, he removed his coat and carefully draped it over Lydia, shielding her battered body from view before lifting her into his arms with astonishing gentleness.
"We need a physician," he said, his voice tight. "Now."
Aveline immediately pushed herself to her feet.
Right. Crying could wait. Lydia came first.
-----
The day dragged on with agonizing slowness.
Outside the infirmary, Aveline sat in silence, her hands clasped so tightly together her knuckles had long since turned white. She barely noticed the passing hours. Every time the door opened, hope surged inside her, only to fade again when it wasn’t the physician.
Finally, near evening, the elderly healer stepped outside.
The exhaustion on his face told Aveline everything before he even spoke. His words still struck like knives. Broken ribs.Deep bruising across nearly every part of her body. Burns. Cuts. Signs of prolonged restraint.
He spoke gently, carefully avoiding certain details.
He didn’t need to say them aloud. Aveline understood. Each sentence hollowed her out a little more. By the time the physician finished, tears were already flowing silently down her cheeks.
Her thoughts raced in every direction.
Who had done this? Why Lydia? Had she seen something she shouldn’t have?
She remembered the strange way Lydia had behaved these past few days. The uneasiness. The distance. The hesitation whenever Aveline asked simple questions.
Was someone threatening her? Protecting someone? Or...
Was this somehow connected to her?
The questions refused to stop.
But beneath the grief... Beneath the guilt... Something else slowly took root, cold, steady and resolute.
Aveline wiped away her tears.
Whoever had done this... Whoever had dared reduce Lydia to this...
She would find them.
And when she did... She would make certain they never harmed another girl again.
-----
Aveline went back to the dormitory to have some food for Lydia.
"Aveline Willowgrave!"
A voice stopped her.
The King.