Crowned (Santa Catalina University)

Chapter 10

Bhodi collapses right as Elder Mirra finishes speaking, crumpling to the ground with a thud that reverberates through the chamber.

“Bhodi!” I shout, my voice cracking with desperation.

My heart lurches, and I drop to my knees beside him, panic surging through me as his eyes roll back in his head.

The healer, who was tending to Bhodi just moments before, immediately kneels beside me, her hands trembling as she checks for a pulse. Her face pales, and she looks up at us with wide eyes. “His heart has stopped.”

A cold dread washes over me. “Do something!” I yell, my voice rising in urgency.

Without wasting another second, the healer begins chest compressions, her hands pressing down on Bhodi’s chest rhythmically. If I hadn’t spent so much time in the human world, I wouldn’t have known what she was doing. Our people never need chest compressions. We always heal with magic.

Her expression is strained with the fear that we might lose him. I’m frozen in place, helplessness clawing at my insides.

I glance at Cove, whose face mirrors my own horror. We can’t lose Bhodi, not after everything we’ve been through. We need him.

Minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity, as the healer works tirelessly, her movements becoming more frantic. Bhodi’s wound, which had been healing under her care, suddenly reopens, blood seeping through the makeshift bandages. The healer’s eyes widen in alarm. “We need to get him to the hospital. Now!” she cries.

The Elders immediately spring into action, directing us to the nearby medical facility within the city. Cove and I lift Bhodi carefully, carrying him between us as we rush through the corridors. The council chamber building, once a place of grandeur and tranquillity, now feels like a labyrinth of despair. Every corner, every hallway, echoes with our frantic footsteps and the healer’s urgent instructions.

We burst through the doors of the hospital, the sterile smell of antiseptic hitting me as we enter. The staff inside react instantly, a team of medics rushing to take Bhodi from us and place him on a gurney. They wheel him away, and I feel a part of myself being torn as I watch him disappear down the corridor.

Cove and I follow closely, our breaths ragged, our minds racing with fear and uncertainty. We reach the operating room, and a doctor steps in front of us, blocking our path. “You need to stay out here,” she says firmly, her eyes filled with compassion and authority. “We’ll do everything we can for him.”

I nod numbly, unable to find my voice. Cove places a hand on my shoulder, comforting me, silently supporting me. We stand there, side by side, staring at the closed doors, praying for a miracle.

Time drags on, each second feeling like a lifetime, though it could be mere minutes. I can hear the faint sounds of the medics working on Bhodi, the beeping of machines, the hushed murmurs of the staff. It’s torture, this waiting, this not knowing. My mind races with thoughts of what could go wrong, what we’ll do if we lose him.

Finally, the doors swing open, and the doctor emerges, her face a mask of exhaustion and grim determination. “We managed to resuscitate him,” she says, her voice steady but tinged with weariness. “But his condition is critical. We had to stitch the wound closed, but it’s not healing as it should.”

“Why?” I ask, my voice hoarse, my throat tight with emotion.

The doctor sighs, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes. “The wound was made, we believe, by a blade tipped with Shikari blood. It’s toxic to our kind, makes healing nearly impossible – especially using magic. We’ve done all we can for now, but we need to monitor him closely. It’s a waiting game at this point, to see if his body can fight the poison on its own.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Shikari blood. Of course. Their venomous essence, a blight on our kind. I swallow hard, trying to process this information, to hold onto some shred of hope.

“Can we see him?” Cove asks tentatively.

The doctor nods, leading us into the room where Bhodi lies. He’s hooked up to various machines, his face pale, his breathing shallow. It’s a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively brother I know. I move to his bedside, taking his hand in mine, noting the coolness of his skin.

“We’re here, Bhodi,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “We’re not leaving you.”

Cove stands beside me, silent but supportive. We stay there, watching over him, willing him to fight, to come back to us.

As the hours pass, the hospital room becomes a bubble of tense anticipation. The medics come and go, checking on the patient, adjusting the machines, their faces a blend of professionalism and concern. Cove and I barely speak, our focus entirely on my fallen brother, our thoughts a chaotic mix of fear, hope, and desperation.

At some point, Elder Mirra arrives, his expression sombre as he takes in the sight of Bhodi.

“We will fight to protect Aerwyna,” he says quietly, his voice filled with resolve. “But we must also protect each other.”

I nod, appreciating his words even as my heart aches with worry for Bhodi. We’ve been through so much, faced so many challenges, and now this.

It feels like too much, like we’re being tested beyond our limits.

As the night wears on, exhaustion begins to take its toll. My eyes grow heavy, my body aching from the strain of the day’s events. But I can’t leave Bhodi’s side, can’t abandon him in his time of need.

Morning comes slowly, the first rays of sunlight creeping through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room. Bhodi remains unconscious, his condition unchanged. The doctor checks on him again, her expression neutral but not without a hint of hope.

“We just have to wait and see,” she says, her tone gentle but firm. “His body still needs time to fight the poison, to heal. We’ve done all we can for now.”

I nod, understanding but still feeling the weight of helplessness pressing down on me. Waiting is the hardest part, the uncertainty gnawing at my resolve to be patient.

Cove and I take turns resting, one of us always at Bhodi’s side. The hours blur together, a haze of exhaustion and anxiety. Every twitch, every small movement from Bhodi, sends a jolt of hope through me, only to be dashed by the continued stillness.

The Elders visit periodically, offering updates on the situation in Aerwyna, their faces grim but determined. The Shadow Legion’s threat looms large, their attacks relentless, but the people of Aerwyna are resilient, fighting back with everything they have.

“We won’t let them win,” Elder Mirra says during one visit, his voice filled with steely determination. “We will protect our home, no matter the cost.”

I nod, appreciating his resolve, his earlier words now sounding more steadfast, but finding it hard to focus on anything other than Bhodi’s condition. The war outside feels distant, a backdrop to the personal battle we’re waging here – especially when it’s a place I barely remember. A place that no longer feels like home.

After all we’ve been through, all we’ve sacrificed and lost, it’s starting to feel too much. The mission too big, too daunting, too impossible.

I don’t want to lose anyone else.

I don’t want to do this.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Bhodi stirs. His eyelids flutter, and his fingers twitch in my grasp. My heart leaps, hope surging through me. “Bhodi?” I whisper, leaning closer, willing him to wake up.

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, his eyes open, blinking against the harsh light of the room. He looks around, confusion clouding his gaze, before his eyes land on me. “Reef?” he croaks, his voice weak but unmistakable.

“I’m here,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

Cove is by my side in an instant, his face breaking into a relieved smile. “Welcome back, brother,” he says softly, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Bhodi’s gaze shifts between us, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “What happened?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You were wounded,” I explain, my voice gentle but steady. “A blade tipped with Shikari blood. It’s been touch and go, but you’re a fighter, Bhodi. You pulled through.”

He nods slowly, processing this information, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and lingering fear. “I thought…I thought I was gone,” he admits, his voice trembling.

“You’re here now,” I say firmly, squeezing his hand. “You’re going to be okay, Bhodi. We’re going to take care of you. We’ll get through this together.”

The doctor enters the room, her face lighting up with relief as she sees Bhodi awake. She checks his vitals, her expression professional but pleased. “You’re a fighter, all right,” she says, her tone warm. “You’ve still got a long road ahead, but waking up is a good sign. Your body is fighting the poison.”

Bhodi nods, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, but also with a spark of determination. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he says quietly, his words punctated by a large yawn. He grimaces. “I’m not giving up.”

Pride swells in my chest at his words, and I feel a renewed sense of hope. We’ve faced so much, endured so many hardships, but we’re still standing. Bhodi is still here, still fighting, and that’s what matters.