Aidan flexed his fingers, feeling the dull throb of pain spread across his body. The battle with the Shadowborns, followed by the fight against the street thugs, had left him battered and exhausted.
Lyria walked beside him, glancing at him with mild amusement.
"You wounded?" she asked.
"A little," Aidan replied with a casual shrug.
Lyria scoffed. "A little? You look like crap."
Aidan smirked but said nothing.
She shook her head. "Well, don't worry. I know a doctor. A beautiful one, too."
Aidan raised an eyebrow but followed her through the streets of Velthar. The city was still unfamiliar to him, its winding alleys and towering spires casting long shadows under the pale glow of lanterns. People moved about with purpose, some haggling in the marketplace, others vanishing into the dark corners of the city.
As they turned a corner, they arrived in front of a small wooden building. It wasn't grand like the other structures he had seen, no glowing runes, no towering spires, just a simple house with a sign marked with an old symbol of healing.
Lyria stepped up to the door and knocked.
"Sister Kara! Sister Kara, we need your service!" she called out.
A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a striking woman with long, jet black hair tied neatly behind her back. Her emerald-green eyes studied them with sharp precision. She wore a deep blue robe, simple yet elegant, with a belt of pouches around her waist.
Her gaze flickered between Lyria and Aidan.
"You wounded again?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Lyria grinned. "Not me this time. It's this big gentleman."
Kara's eyes settled on Aidan. She examined him quickly, her expression unreadable. Then, with a nod, she stepped aside. "Come inside."
The Healer's Clinic
The inside of the clinic was small but well-kept. Shelves lined the walls, filled with vials of different-colored liquids, dried herbs, and carefully arranged medical tools. The air smelled of incense and medicine. A simple bed sat in the corner, with clean cloth and bandages neatly folded beside it.
"Sit there," Kara instructed, pointing to the bed.
Aidan hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and lowering himself onto the mattress.
Kara pulled up a stool and set down a bowl of water and a cloth. "Take off your shirt," she said.
Aidan raised an eyebrow. "That necessary?"
Kara gave him a flat look. "Unless you want to die from an infection, yes."
Lyria leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "Come on, tough guy. Don't be shy."
Aidan sighed and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a body sculpted by years of battle. His broad chest and powerful arms were marked with scars, memories of countless fights. The faint glow of the lanterns highlighted every muscle, making him look like a war-forged statue.
Kara blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
Lyria let out a low whistle. "Damn."
Aidan smirked. "Enjoying the view?"
Lyria grinned. "Just surprised you're still alive with all those scars."
Kara shook her head and leaned forward, her professional demeanor returning. Her fingers lightly traced the fresh wounds on his torso, and her brows furrowed.
"Where did you get these?" she asked.
"The Forest of Whispers," Aidan replied.
Both Kara and Lyria froze.
Lyria's usual playful expression vanished, replaced with something more serious.
Kara's frown deepened. "You were in the Forest of Whispers?"
Aidan nodded.
Kara exchanged a glance with Lyria. "Only elite warriors make it out of that place alive," she muttered. "You could have died."
Aidan exhaled. "I've had worse."
Kara didn't respond. Instead, she leaned in closer, inspecting the wounds more carefully. A few of them had already started darkening unnaturally.
She frowned. "These wounds… they're rotting."
Aidan's expression hardened. "That's impossible. I just got them."
Kara stood up abruptly and walked to one of the shelves. She pulled down a glass jar filled with dark-green herbs, along with a small mortar and pestle. She worked quickly, crushing the herbs into a fine paste before mixing it with a bit of water.
Aidan watched her, his senses on high alert.
She returned and dipped her fingers into the paste, then gently spread it over his wounds. A sharp, burning sensation shot through his skin.
Aidan gritted his teeth.
Lyria chuckled. "Hurts, huh?"
Aidan exhaled through his nose. "I've had worse."
Kara continued working, her hands moving with skill and precision. "You're lucky," she said. "If you had waited any longer, the infection would have spread. This isn't normal rot, there's dark energy in these wounds."
Aidan's jaw tightened. "Dark energy?"
Kara nodded. "Yes. Something unnatural wounded you in that forest. This isn't just an ordinary injury."
Aidan considered her words. The Shadowborn… they weren't just monsters. They were something else. Something ancient.
Kara finished dressing his wounds and sat back, studying him. "That should help. You'll still feel some pain for a while, but you'll recover."
Aidan rolled his shoulders, already feeling a little relief. "Thanks."
Kara nodded. "Rest here for a bit before you leave."
Lyria grinned. "Told you she was a good doctor. And beautiful, too."
Kara shot her a look. "Shut up, Lyria."
Lyria just laughed.
Aidan leaned back slightly, allowing himself a moment of rest. His journey in this world was only beginning, but at least now, he had allies.
For the first time since waking up in this strange place, he didn't feel completely alone.
...