Evelyn led Arlen back through the quiet village, the narrow streets illuminated only by the dim light of the moons. Her movements were quick but silent, as if she had learned to move through the night without drawing attention. Arlen followed close behind, his steps just as soundless, Fenri padding quietly at his side.
When they reached the small, worn-down house, Evelyn hesitated for a moment at the door before pushing it open. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of sickness, the stale, suffocating stillness that came with a long illness. Arlen stepped inside, his shadowy form blending with the dimly lit interior, and his gaze immediately fell on the small cot in the corner where Orin lay.
Evelyn’s brother was young—too young to be fighting for his life. His face was pale and gaunt, his breathing shallow and labored. His small chest rose and fell with visible effort, the sound of every breath ragged and weak. Arlen’s heart tightened at the sight, the familiar tug of urgency filling his chest as memories from his past life as a paramedic flooded back.
“He’s been like this for weeks,” Evelyn whispered, her voice thick with worry. “The medicine I’ve been stealing keeps the fever down, but it’s not enough. He’s getting worse.”
Arlen knelt beside the cot, his shadowy form looming over the frail boy. He reached out, his hand hovering over Orin’s forehead for a moment before gently placing it down. The boy’s skin was hot to the touch, burning with the telltale heat of a body fighting a severe infection.
Arlen’s eyes narrowed as his mind went into diagnostic mode. He had seen this before—many times. The pale skin, the fever, the rapid but shallow breathing. Orin’s body was fighting something, and it was losing. Based on the signs, Arlen could tell it was more than just an infection—it was sepsis.
‘Most likely from a wound that got infected,’ Arlen thought, scanning the boy’s body for any signs of injury. ‘Sepsis. The body’s immune system is overreacting and attacking itself.’
Evelyn’s mother lay in a nearby bed, her frail form barely visible beneath the covers. She looked just as weak as Orin, her breathing shallow and labored. But Orin was the priority—if he didn’t receive help soon, he wouldn’t survive the night.
Arlen’s hand remained on Orin’s forehead, his thoughts racing. He didn’t have any medication. No antibiotics. Nothing that could stop the infection.
But then, a memory flickered in his mind—the moment when he had named Fenri. The strange energy that had flowed out of him, the power that had caused the wolf to grow and strengthen in mere hours. That same energy had to exist within him still.
‘If it had the power to make Fenri grow… maybe it could help Orin.’
Arlen closed his eye, focusing on the sensation, trying to grasp onto the strange energy he had felt before. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of Orin’s labored breathing, the quiet sobs of Evelyn beside him.
Then, he felt it. A warm, tingling sensation deep inside, near where his heart—or whatever passed for one in his new form—would be. It was faint at first, but as he concentrated, the warmth began to spread, pulsing through his body like a slow, rhythmic heartbeat.
‘There it is.’
He focused harder, feeling the energy pulse and thud within him. It grew stronger with each passing second, flowing through him like a current of power. It was intoxicating, like holding the very essence of life in his hands. His one eye snapped open, now glowing a bright red, pulsing like fire as the energy surged through his shadowy form.
‘If I can just reset his immune system…’ Arlen thought. ‘Sepsis is the immune system overreacting. If I can stop it from attacking his body, then maybe he’ll heal on his own.’
The white light began to emanate from Arlen’s hands, a stark contrast to his dark, shadowy form. It spread slowly at first, then quicker, flowing through his fingers and into Orin’s body. The boy’s breathing, once strained and uneven, began to calm. The color slowly returned to his face, and his fevered skin cooled beneath Arlen’s touch.
Evelyn gasped, her eyes wide as she watched the transformation unfold. Arlen’s hands glowed brighter, the light encapsulating Orin’s entire body. Slowly, the boy’s breathing evened out, no longer labored or painful. His chest rose and fell smoothly, the fever breaking as the white light continued to pulse from Arlen’s hands.
When Arlen finally pulled his hand away, the light faded, and his body returned to its shadowy form. The intoxicating warmth ebbed, leaving him feeling oddly drained but satisfied.
Orin’s face was now a more healthy color, his breathing soft and steady. He looked peaceful—like he was simply sleeping, no longer caught in the grips of a life-threatening illness.
Evelyn stood frozen beside him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You… you healed him,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“How…?”
Arlen frowned slightly, still kneeling beside Orin. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… did something.”
Evelyn’s eyes flicked to Arlen, then back to her brother. “That light… it was like holy magic.” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “But… you’re not praying. I also doubt the goddess of light would bless you.”
“Magic? Goddess” Arlen repeated, his voice flat. He had a ton of questions but the exhaustion was overwhelming.
Evelyn’s expression turned to one of shock and confusion. “But… the way you healed him. The light. That’s what holy magic is supposed to look like. It’s said to come from the goddess of light herself.”
Arlen shook his head, his eye narrowing slightly. “I’m not connected to any goddess that i know of.”
Evelyn’s face was a mixture of disbelief and awe as she knelt beside Orin, brushing her fingers gently across his now-cool forehead. “You’re saying… you don’t even know what you just did?”
Arlen stood slowly, still feeling the drain from using that strange energy. “I don’t know what any of this is,” he admitted. “But it worked. For now.”
Evelyn’s hand trembled slightly as she touched her brother’s face, tears welling up in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t know what you are… but thank you.”
Arlen turned away, his mind still swirling with questions about the strange power within him. Whatever it was, it had saved Orin’s life. But it wasn’t magic—not in the way Evelyn seemed to think. This was something else. Something deeper, more primal.
He didn’t know where this power came from, but he was beginning to understand one thing—it was a part of him now, whether he liked it or not.
Arlen passed out, dreamless sleep, his body heavy with exhaustion from the strange energy he had channeled into Orin. The room around him was still and dark, the walls thick and bare, keeping out both the chill of the night and the light of the early morning. His eye flickered open slowly, the unfamiliar surroundings bringing him back to the events of what he thought was the night before.
Beside him, Fenri lay curled up, breathing softly. The wolf’s presence grounded him, a comforting weight in the otherwise still room. Arlen sat up carefully, noticing the farmer’s clothes that now covered his shadowy form—rough but practical. Evelyn must have clothed him while he slept. He glanced around the small, windowless space, trying to gauge the time.
‘No windows, maybe its for temperature regulation or because glass is rare,’ Arlen thought, though without sunlight streaming in, it was difficult to tell if it was morning. ‘How long was I out?’
The exhaustion had been intense, more draining than anything he had felt before, but something felt off. The room was too still, too settled. He glanced at Fenri, who stirred slightly, then at the doorway that led to the main room. The faint sound of laughter reached his ears.
Slowly, Arlen stood, the feeling of weightlessness gone. His limbs felt heavier than they had before, the aftereffects of using that strange energy still lingering. As he made his way toward the door, the question gnawed at him: ‘Am I still not hungry?’
He stepped through the doorway and was met with the sight of Evelyn sitting beside Orin’s bed, feeding her brother soup. Orin, though still pale and weak, was sitting up, his breathing easier than before. Arlen’s chest tightened with relief, though the guilt of not being able to help Evelyn’s mother still weighed on him. She lay in her cot across the room, coughing weakly.
Arlen cleared his throat, catching Evelyn’s attention. She looked up, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw him.
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“You’re awake,” she said, standing quickly and setting the bowl aside. “I didn’t think you’d wake up today.”
Arlen blinked, confused by her words. ‘Today?’
“How long was I out?” he asked, his voice low.
Evelyn hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. “You’ve been asleep for three days.”
“Three days?” Arlen repeated, his voice sharp with disbelief. “But… it felt like I just closed my eyes. The last thing I remember was… last night.”
Evelyn shook her head, her expression softening. “No, Arlen. You collapsed three days ago, right after you saved Orin. You were so drained, I thought…” She trailed off, a hint of worry crossing her face.
Arlen ran a hand through his hair, still trying to wrap his mind around the time that had passed. ‘Three days… I thought it was just a night.’ Arlen thought about the last time this had happened. ‘How long was Fenri waiting by my side back then?’
He looked at Orin, the boy’s pale face now much healthier than before, though he still appeared weak. It seemed that whatever energy he had used had worked, but at a greater cost than he had realized.
“You needed the rest,” Evelyn said, her voice gentle. “You saved Orin’s life, but whatever you did… it took a lot out of you.”
Arlen nodded slowly, still processing the situation. “I had no idea I was asleep that long.”
Evelyn smiled slightly, though there was a hint of concern in her eyes. “I’m just glad you’re awake now. Orin’s been asking about you.”
Arlen glanced back at the boy, who was now managing a tired but genuine smile. “I’m glad you’re doing better,” Arlen said, his voice softer now.
Orin nodded, his voice weak but full of gratitude. “Thank you…”
Arlen gave him a small nod before looking back at Evelyn. “How’s your mother?”
Evelyn’s smile faded slightly, and she glanced at the cot where her mother lay, still wracked by occasional fits of coughing. “She’s holding on. I’ve been able to give her some of the medicine I stole, but… it’s not enough.”
Arlen clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of guilt settle in again. “I’ll help her too,” he said quietly. “As soon as I recover.”
“You’ve already done more than enough,” Evelyn said, though her voice wavered slightly. “Orin… he’s alive because of you.”
Arlen nodded but remained silent. The responsibility he felt weighed on him, but it wasn’t something he could ignore. He needed to understand his abilities better—how they worked, and how they had left him drained for three days.
“You dressed me,” Arlen said, changing the subject slightly as he gestured to his clothes.
Evelyn smiled again, this time with a bit more warmth. “You didn’t look very comfortable wandering around like… well, like before. I found some old clothes of my father’s.”
Arlen’s face turned serious, trying to lighten the mood he said, “I appreciate it. I didn’t realize how out of place I must’ve looked.”
They shared a brief moment of quiet, the intensity of the situation easing, though the questions in Arlen’s mind still churned.
“So… what happens now?” Evelyn asked, her tone serious again. “You saved Orin, but what’s next for you?”
Arlen let out a slow breath, still feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I need to understand more about where I am, and what’s happening in this world. I heard the guards mention a kingdom the other night?”
Evelyn nodded. “Yes. We’re governed by The Barad Niserie Kingdom which surrounds the Great Lake. Most of the villages like ours are scattered around the outskirts of the kingdom. The Great lake is the largest lake in all of Evralond.”
“Evralond, must be the continent.” Arlen repeated, filing the name away. “And are there any close cities?”
“Ithlul is the closest major town,” Evelyn explained. “It’s the trading hub of the Kingdom because of its proximity to the border. I’ve only been there a few times, but it’s more civilized than here. I go to sell stuff a lot and that’s where I got most of the medication for these two.”
Arlen nodded thoughtfully. Ithlul sounded like the kind of place where he could gather more information, learn more about this world and its rules. If he wanted to understand his new reality, a larger town would be the logical next step.
“Hmmm,” Arlen said, more to himself than to Evelyn.
Evelyn watched him with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. “I don’t know why you’re here, or what brought you to us, but thank you. For saving my brother.”
Arlen nodded, though inside, the questions were still swirling. Why had he been asleep for so long? What had caused that drain? And what was this strange energy inside him?
But for now, he had a starting point. The path ahead was still unclear, but at least he had somewhere to begin.
After the initial shock of learning that he had been asleep for three days, Arlen’s curiosity about his strange abilities only grew. The energy that had saved Orin—and left Arlen drained for days—was unlike anything he had ever encountered. But the fact that it existed in him and responded to his will made him realize he needed to learn more.
Later in the afternoon, as the house remained quiet, Arlen found a moment to talk to Evelyn. She was sitting near the hearth, tending to her mother while Orin rested in the other room. The air was thick with the scent of herbs, and the only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the occasional soft cough from her mother.
Arlen sat across from Evelyn, his hands resting on his knees. He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to ask you,” he said, his voice low.
Evelyn looked up from her task, her expression curious. “What is it?”
“This… power I’ve been using,” Arlen began, glancing down at his hands. “Is it… magic?”
Evelyn blinked, taken aback by the question. She tilted her head slightly, frowning in thought. “Magic? I suppose it could be, but it doesn’t seem like the kind of magic I’ve heard about.”
Arlen furrowed his brow. “What do you know about magic? Is it real? Common?”
Evelyn let out a small breath, looking a bit unsure. “Magic is real, yes. It’s common enough, especially in the larger cities and among adventurers, but…” she hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s not something peasants like me have access to. Magic requires training—proper teaching—and that costs money. Only the upper class can afford it.”
Arlen frowned. “So it’s not something anyone can just learn?”
“No,” Evelyn replied, shaking her head. “It’s not like the stories of old where magic was something legendary or rare. It’s around, but only those who can pay for a teacher, usually the wealthy or noble families, can master it. Even adventurers who use magic often have to save for years to afford the training or books.”
Arlen’s thoughts churned. So magic wasn’t a myth or something lost to time—it was a skill, one that could be taught. But the cost of that training kept it out of the hands of most commoners.
“Have you ever seen magic?” Arlen asked, watching her carefully.
“Only a few times,” Evelyn said softly. “Some traveling adventurers passed through Ithlul when I was younger, and I saw them using it to light fires or mend wounds. Simple things. But I’ve never seen anything like what you did. They use weird hand-signs or chants. I’ve even seen some of them use magic items.”
Arlen nodded, his mind racing. ‘So magic is real and common enough in larger cities, but it’s a skill, not a gift. And yet, whatever I’m doing… I don’t need training for it.’
“I’m not sure what this is,” Arlen admitted, looking at his hands again. “But it doesn’t feel like the magic you’re talking about.”
Evelyn studied him for a moment before speaking. “Maybe it’s something else entirely.”
Deciding to stay longer and heal Evelyn’s mother, Arlen knew he needed to recover first. That meant testing his limits, seeing how much of that strange energy he could control, and figuring out how it worked.
Later that afternoon, he made his way toward the door, intending to scout the area around the village and clear his head. But the moment he stepped outside and into the sunlight, his body reacted violently.
The instant the sunlight hit his shadowy skin, a searing pain erupted through him. It felt like his flesh was being torn apart by invisible flames, and he staggered back into the house, gasping for air. His body burned, and for a moment, he feared he might lose control. But as quickly as the pain came, it subsided. His skin, once damaged by the light, began to regenerate, returning to its dark, swirling state.
Arlen winced, watching his hands in disbelief. ‘Light doesn’t affect me… but sunlight does. Is it the radiation? The UV?’
Before he could puzzle it out further, Evelyn rushed over, her face filled with worry. “Are you alright? What happened?”
“It’s the sunlight,” Arlen muttered through gritted teeth. “It burns like hell.”
Evelyn’s eyes widened in surprise, then she offered a tentative smile. “Maybe you really are a creature of the night,” she teased, though her voice was tinged with concern.
Arlen chuckled, though the humor didn’t quite reach him. “Seems like it.” He flexed his hand, watching as the last traces of damage healed. The sunlight had hurt him—badly—but it hadn’t killed him. He needed to be careful, but at least he could recover from the damage quickly.
Later that night, when the village was quiet once more, Arlen decided to try healing Evelyn’s mother. He was rested, and though he was hesitant after what had happened with Orin, he couldn’t leave her to suffer.
Evelyn sat beside her mother’s cot, her expression a mixture of hope and fear. Arlen knelt beside her mother, placing a hand gently on the woman’s fevered forehead. Her breathing was labored, her body frail and weak—just like Orin’s had been.
Closing his eye, Arlen focused inward, searching for the warmth deep inside him—the strange energy he had used before. It came slowly, like a flickering flame, but it grew stronger as he concentrated, spreading through his body like a rhythmic pulse.
The energy surged through him, filling his veins with that intoxicating warmth. He guided it carefully, letting it flow from his heart into his hands. The familiar white light began to glow from his fingers, soft and steady as it covered Evelyn’s mother.
Arlen focused on her illness, sensing the infection deep in her lungs, attacking her body. ‘It’s just like Orin, Pneumonia, he realized as he sensed the location’ he thought. ‘If I can reset her immune system, she might heal on her own. I don’t have antibiotics, lets just hope that their immune systems are strong enough. Or they’ll be back to this state within a week.’
The light brightened, and Evelyn’s mother’s breathing began to ease, the fever cooling as Arlen channeled more energy into her. Her body relaxed, and the strain seemed to melt away as the healing took hold.
Arlen exhaled slowly, letting the light fade. He could feel it—her body was healing. But this time, as he pulled back, something was different. The exhaustion that had overwhelmed him after healing Orin didn’t return.
Instead, the energy he had used slowly seeped back into him, retreating to the strange place near where his heart should have been. Arlen stood, feeling the power settle inside him again. It didn’t overwhelm him like before—it simply… returned.
His eye flickered with curiosity. ‘Why didn’t I pass out this time?’
He looked down at his hands, wondering if the energy was growing stronger the more he used it. ‘Is it like a muscle? The more I use it, the more potent it gets? Or like endurance—the more I push, the longer I can go?’ Arlen had no idea just how strong this mysterious power could turn out.