Lily had never envisioned her day ending in such a manner: bathed in the blood of her enemy. She had harbored hopes of journeying towards Silverlight, a mendicar license in hand. At worst, she imagined pleading with Aunt Carol to get her job at the tavern back, and then desperately scrap coins to prevent herself and Draven from starving.
As she knelt beside a pool of blood, struggling with the day's harrowing events, the clamor of the watchers bounced in the air, cries of "Your Excellency" echoing around her. The title summoned the image of the imperial envoy in her mind. Was he still alive? Following the witch's decapitation, he had crumbled to the ground, while Lily entered a trance, detached from everything unfolding around her.
The strain of the day, possibly even the entire month, had been immense. From concealing her true class, studying healing by herself, to witnessing a slaughter at Master Orion’s, selling her home, becoming a mendicar, sentencing many to death, confronting a witch, and nearly having her deepest secret revealed. The events had spiraled one after the other, leaving her little room to process them all.
"Mendicar Lily, please, you must help the envoy!" A watcher's urgent plea snapped Lily from her reverie, his hands gripping her shoulders in desperation.
For a moment, Lily met the watcher's gaze, a man merely a few years her senior, with confusion. What assistance could she possibly offer? However, as reality washed over her, she understood. She was no longer simply Lily, the orphaned waitress; she was mendicar Lily, and, in secret, healer Lily.
Brushing aside the grim state of her bloodstained attire, she let herself be led to the envoy, now laid upon a table within the betrayer's manor. Given his stature within the town, leaving him exposed outside was out of the question.
Using 'health sense' had become instinctual for Lily, allowing her to swiftly assess the man's condition through the skill's enhanced vision. Beyond bruises and signs of fatigue marked by yellow tags, his afflictions, a full spectrum of reds and oranges hailed from a black tag at his heart – a completely different diagnosis, death mana corruption.
Before, Lily had assumed that a red flag would be the most severe condition a patient could face. However, her encounter with the devastating effects of death mana had forced her skill to adapt, introducing a new, more ominous category: black for death mana corruption. This condition was so distinct from other forms of mana poisoning that it warranted its own classification, transcending mere poisoning to signify corruption.
Had the stakes not been so dire, Lily might have taken a moment to marvel at the flexibility of her skill, which seemed to grow and refine itself in alignment with her experiences and needs.
As she approached the envoy, Lily feigned a standard examination while discreetly initiating the 'energize' spell pattern. Then, she administered half a vial of vitality infusion into his mouth, whispering the incantation so quietly it was almost imperceptible.
Now more adept at the treatment process, Lily endeavored to direct the spell's effect, visualized as a green mist in her perception, towards not just the heart but also along the pathways of life mana coursing through the man's body. To her dismay, she discovered the combination of the infusion and the spell did not disperse as expected. This resistance suggested that either the depth of the corruption was thwarting the treatment, or the unique constitution of the envoy posed an unforeseen challenge.
Caught between curiosity and ethical dilemma, Lily debated the merits of experimenting with another spell to validate her theories. Basic Healing had been clear about the illegality and ethical breach of conducting tests on patients without their explicit consent – a principle that seemed useless in a world without healers, yet the moral quandary lingered. On the other hand, understanding the ailment could refine her approach and hasten the envoy's recovery.
Ultimately, Lily rationalized that a minor application of 'clean' could only benefit the patient and, therefore, was justifiable. Casting the spell under the scrutinous gaze of onlookers was both taxing and nerve-wracking, but she was gradually becoming accustomed to the pressure.
This time, she ingeniously concealed her spellcasting gestures under the guise of wiping her hands on the cloth she carried – a gesture of cleanliness that was somewhat ironic given the cloth's bloodstained condition.
"Clean," she murmured nonchalantly, a habit she had cultivated for voicing thoughts under her breath, making her actions appear less peculiar to onlookers. Their growing concern, however, indicated they interpreted her mumbling as a sign of the envoy's dire condition necessitating intense contemplation.
The spell, aimed at a superficial scratch on the man's arm, should’ve eliminated any impurities with minimal magical expenditure. But, as Lily had apprehensively anticipated, the spell encountered resistance when reaching the internal area of the wound. While the surface was cleansed with ease, the deeper intrusion, even if only minimally into the body, proved stubborn against the spell's influence. Maintaining her connection to the spell, Lily could infuse more mana into the effort, but this method was far from being mana-efficient. The energy expended to give extra power to the spell was significantly higher if supplied after drawing the pattern than at the initial allocation of mana. This inefficiency was a key factor in the high cost of spells. However, as her experience grew, so did her proficiency in accurately gauging the necessary mana for each spell before its execution. This improvement in mana estimation was gradually making her spells less taxing on her reserves.
Empowered by her substantial mana reserves, Lily easily overcame the resistance, confirming that her magic could work on the envoy but at an increased demand for mana, effort, and time. She speculated that the invisible flow of fire mana within him might be clashing with her life mana, a conflict that perhaps also extended to the distasteful death mana, explaining his higher resistance compared to the other afflicted watchers.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Despite her newfound understanding, the revelation offered little in the way of expediting the healing process.
"Fetch more of this from my assistant," she instructed a nearby watcher, handing him the empty vial. The term 'assistant' felt foreign on her tongue. Just a week prior, she had been far from even being recognized as a mendicar student, but now she found herself in a position with some authority.
Despite wasting half of the infusion due to severe trembling, the mendicar student earned no reprimand from Lily. His decision not to flee, in her view, was commendable in itself. Though she suspected his motivation might be more rooted in fear of reprisal from the Watch rather than a genuine sense of duty, she withheld judgment, considering she might be driven by similar incentives.
The watcher quickly returned with a replenished vial, granting Lily the opportunity to administer another round of her spell/infusion combination. Despite her inability to perceive fire mana directly, she could detect the presence of death mana within the envoy and chose to focus her efforts on areas heavily afflicted by it. She intuitively sensed there must be a more efficient method to address the challenge, but a solution escaped her.
After four intensive treatments, interspersed with five-minute intervals to replenish her mana, the envoy began to show signs of awakening. His initial, barely audible murmur quickly escalated to a reflexive grab for his sword, which the watchers had sheathed. In a moment, the blade was pressed against Lily's neck, its chill seeping into her skin, soon replaced by a threatening warmth as the man presumably activated his mana.
"Your... Excellency?" Lily managed, feeling the sharp edge threatening to break her skin.
The envoy's gaze was clouded, his consciousness not fully regained. Lily sensed the weapon's energy intensify, its pressure against her neck growing. It was a matter of moments before it could cause injury.
"Mendicar... Lily," he uttered, still with a hint of confusion. Lily responded with a nod and a strained smile. "Sorry, I just... It was a reflex," he explained, withdrawing the sword.
His attention quickly shifted, assessing the situation through exchanges with a chosen watcher, who was selected based on seniority rather than proximity. The brief report covered the critical events, including the witch's demise, which seemed to bring a subtle sense of relief to his otherwise stoic demeanor. Despite this, the envoy maintained a composed front, especially when informed of additional disturbances throughout the town, indicating such events were within his expectations.
Finally, his scrutiny turned to Lily. His silent evaluation might have intimidated her before, but following her ordeal with the witch, his probing gaze was merely a nuisance. Although his inquiry could potentially complicate matters, particularly with probing questions, Lily found herself in a mindset to tackle issues as they arose without undue stress. The close brush with death had evidently sharpened her resilience.
For a moment, Lily thought she had become immune to the man's penetrating gaze, but within moments, she found herself wavering under his scrutiny.
"Your Excellency?" she inquired, almost pleading.
His stern demeanor melted into what could pass for a friendly smile, given his austere nature. "You may call me Augustus, Mendicar Lily," he offered, quickly appending, "Plus the title, of course."
"Of course," she echoed, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment. The direction of their conversation was unclear, but Lily sensed that any further interaction with him carried risks.
"Please, don't misunderstand, Mendicar. We've just been through a lot, and I thought it proper to offer my name after your assistance," he clarified, catching the hint of suspicion in her demeanor.
Lily mentally chastised herself for her transparent expressions and resolved to depart as swiftly as possible.
"Your Excellency... Augustus, may I be excused?" she ventured, finding no smooth way to frame her request.
"We were actually hoping for your continued assistance," he began, his tone adopting a more polite edge, suggesting either his legal claim on her had lapsed or his gratitude had genuinely deepened. Noticing her reluctance, he added, "Just a couple more hours. Your brother is safe within the Tower, so there's no need for concern."
At the mention of Draven, Lily's composure slipped, her surprise evident. She had momentarily forgotten her brother's location, binding her to their needs a while longer.
"Sure," she managed, mustering a semblance of a smile.
By now, Augustus had resumed his commanding presence, though Lily could still perceive the latent corruption within him, a reminder of the months and concoctions that would take to recover.
"We just need you to survey a few additional locations with us," he instructed, leading her back onto the streets. "Now that the witch has been neutralized, the other mendicars can attend to the patients."
Together, they traversed the remnants of central Dawnbrook, visiting frightened groups of the town's wealthiest. Augustus's stature seemed to have grown in the eyes of the rich, whether from his victory over the witch, thereby earning more political capital, or due to implications involving a Council member in the incident.
True to his promise, their tour of the district concluded in just over two hours. Lily guessed that the rest of the town either didn't require their attention or other measures were in place to address any lingering threats. She speculated that their earlier efforts might have served more symbolic purposes than practical ones, perhaps to mask the envoy's goal of apprehending key adversaries – a tactic Lily presumed was rooted in political maneuvering, a realm she preferred to steer clear of.
By the time they returned to the Tower, night had firmly settled in. Despite her efforts to uphold the composure and dignity befitting her new status, Lily couldn't contain her emotions upon seeing Draven. The sight of her brother, safe and resting, unleashed a torrent of tears she had fought hard to keep at bay.
"Draven," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion as she strove to keep her tears in check. She had been assured of his safety, but it was only upon seeing him that her heart truly accepted he was alright. The watcher tactfully exited the room, granting them a moment of privacy.
"I'm here, little brother. We've made it. I'm a mendicar now, and we can leave. You will be..." Her words trailed off, not from a change of heart or loss of hope, but from a startling realization. Something she had overlooked before, now glaringly apparent through ‘health sense’.
Draven's general health was easily observed by a paler shade of green in her diagnostic view, dotted with orange and numerous yellow tags – signs of conditions kept at bay by the expensive concoctions. However, what truly caught her attention was something far more ominous. Initially, she noticed the disruption in the flow of his life mana; it was diminished and obstructed in certain regions. Upon concentrating further on these problematic areas, small, distinct markers became visible: black tags.