Zari hurried downstairs so quickly that she almost crashed into the large man who was blocking the entire stairwell.

"And who are you, girl?" asked the big man with a rough, raspy voice.

She quickly inspected him from head to toe. He was a mature man, around forty or older, burly and bald. Very bald. He didn't even have eyebrows. His skin was covered in old scars. They looked like ancient burns.

"I’m Zarinia, I’m here to help your companion."

"Help how?" responded the massive man.

"He’s injured, right? I can heal him. With magic."

"What are you, a witch?"

"No, a sorceress. And now, if you’ll excuse me," Zari responded, a bit annoyed, as she slipped like an eel under the wide arm.

She found the injured man on the floor, his back against the stone wall. He was a young guy, about her age. His eyes were half-closed. His blond hair fell over his face. "How cute!" she thought.

"Is he asleep?"

"I think so. I gave him a sip of shia liquor to help him relax a bit," responded the giant.

"Shia flower liquor?" she was surprised. "You have to be careful with that; it’s very strong."

"And very expensive to share so freely. That’s why I only gave him a small glass… well, maybe two… three?"

She sat on the floor next to him and examined his leg. They had torn his leggings to treat the wound and apply a hasty bandage. She carefully removed it, along with the dark mass covering the wound.

"Is this a poultice of calendula and arnica? It seems very well made," she said to the big man, who had approached to watch what she was doing.

"Yes, it is. And lavender. I’m very good at it," he responded proudly. "By the way, my name is Brisur, but everyone calls me Crab," he continued, clicking the iron claw he had for a left hand.

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"Oh, I see. Nice to meet you, Master Crab." She kept staring at the claw, perhaps longer than she should have.

"And that wimp there is Wart," he continued, pointing at the young man with the claw, while Zari followed the movement of the metallic appendage with her head, fascinated.

"But that’s not his name, right?" she refocused on the wound. "I mean, it’s a nickname, I suppose."

"No, of course not! What kind of parents would name their kid Wart? Haw, haw, haw!" It was the most unpleasant laugh Zari had ever heard. "His name is Rendel. And the tall, thin guy you crossed paths with is called Alaric, though everyone knows him as Toothpick."

They were interrupted by a loud noise from the upper floor. Then, a brief silence. And then, something that sounded exactly like a slap. A few seconds later, her sister came down the stairs with the elegant and haughty attitude only she could display. The tall man followed her, trying to descend with dignity as well, but his gangly walk and reddened cheek made it less convincing.

"Everything alright, Toothpick?" asked Crab.

"Yes, of course. We were discussing the new terms of our agreement," he replied, his eyes a bit watery.

"Look, the girl is going to heal Wart’s leg. She says she’s a witch."

"SORCERESS!" the two sisters exclaimed in unison.

"Ah..." Crab pondered. "And what’s the difference?"

"I think it’s a money thing," replied Alaric. "You see, sorceresses usually have riches, while witches..."

"PLEASE," interrupted Zari, clearly annoyed. "I need to concentrate; I’d appreciate a bit of silence."

She placed her hands over the wound and began to recite some words. She closed her eyes as the mantra emptied her mind. Slowly, she visualized first the boy, then his leg, the wound, how it was closing and healing naturally, just as her master had taught her. It was very important for everything to be as unforced as possible, so as not to disrupt the Order. It was simply about speeding up the process.

The words began to echo on their own, and a yellowish glow started to emerge from her fingers. A few seconds later, the glow ceased. All that was left was a whitish scar, as if months had passed since the injury. She exhaled a sigh of exhaustion and looked at the boy, who half-opened his eyes, with an expression of drunken happiness.

"Am I dead? Is this heaven? Are you an angel?" he said, half dazed.

Zari blushed and looked away shyly.

"How silly. No, this isn’t heaven."

The boy opened his eyes, terrified.

"Am I in hell then?! No, I don’t think I was bad enough for that, I only..."

"No, idiot. You’re with us, the living. This kind girl fixed your leg. With magic," said Crab.

The boy looked at Zari again, his eyes clouded by the fumes of alcohol. She returned his gaze with a playful look.

"Oh. I see. A witch."