Midnight's Desperate Cry

Tamlin was pacing in his chambers, his mind consumed by the weight of his responsibilities as the High Lord of the Spring Court. The soft glow of the candles cast flickering shadows on the walls as he tried to focus on the papers scattered across his desk. But his thoughts kept drifting back to Lucien, his emissary and close friend, who had been sent to negotiate with Amarantha, the ruthless High Fae of Hybern. Just as Tamlin was about to sit down, a loud knock at the door broke the silence. He rushed to open it, and his heart sank at the sight before him. Lucien stumbled into the room, his face covered in blood, his left eye socket a gaping wound. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and blood as Lucien's body swayed precariously. "Lucien!" Tamlin exclaimed, rushing to his friend's side. "What happened?" Lucien's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into Tamlin's arms. "Amarantha...," he whispered, his voice barely audible. Tamlin's grip on Lucien tightened as he felt a surge of fear and anger. "Hold on, Lucien. I've got you," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. He carried Lucien to his bed and gently laid him down. Lucien's body convulsed, and he cried out in pain. Tamlin held him close, trying to comfort him. "It's okay, Lucien. I'm here. I've got you." Tamlin quickly assessed the situation and called for his healers to attend to Lucien. As they worked to stabilize his friend, Tamlin couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt and anger towards Amarantha. He gently removed Lucien's mask, revealing the extent of the damage. The left side of Lucien's face was a mess of blood and torn flesh, and his eye was gone. "Tamlin...," Lucien whispered, his voice shaking. "I'm... sorry." Tamlin's face twisted in a mixture of pain and concern. "Don't apologize, Lucien. You're going to be okay," he said, trying to reassure his friend. But Lucien's body convulsed again, and he cried out in pain. Tamlin held him close, trying to comfort him. "It's okay, Lucien. I'm here. I've got you. Just hang on, please." The healers worked quickly, but Tamlin could see the worry etched on their faces. Lucien's injuries were severe, and it was unclear if they could save him. As the night wore on, Tamlin became increasingly desperate. He knew that Amarantha's cruelty knew no bounds, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Lucien's injuries were more than just physical. "Tamlin, I need to go to the Dawn Court," one of his healers said. "Nuan, an alchemist, might be able to help him." Tamlin nodded, his mind racing with hope. "Send a messenger, go now." The hours ticked by, and Lucien's condition remained critical. Tamlin stayed by his side, holding his hand and talking to him softly. Finally, a messenger arrived with news that Nuan was on her way. Tamlin felt a surge of hope and relief. He paced back and forth, waiting for her arrival. When Nuan finally arrived, she quickly assessed Lucien's condition and got to work. She created a metal eye that would replace Lucien's lost one, and her knowledge of potions and healing helped to stabilize his condition. As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Lucien's eyes fluttered open. He looked up at Tamlin, and for a moment, Tamlin saw a glimmer of the old Lucien, the one who was always ready with a witty remark or a clever quip. "Tamlin," Lucien whispered, his voice weak but sincere. Tamlin smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "I'm here, Lucien. I've got you." Lucien's eyes locked onto Tamlin's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, Lucien's eyes dropped, and he whispered, "I'm sorry, Tamlin." Tamlin's heart swelled with emotion as he looked at his friend. "There's nothing to apologize for, Lucien. You're my friend, my brother. I'll do everything to help you." Tamlin took Lucien's hand in his, feeling a sense of determination wash over him. He would do everything in his power to help Lucien heal, both physically and emotionally. And he knew that their bond would only grow stronger in the face of adversity.