"What?" Xal asked, staring at him, trying to understand what Kian meant by those numbers. His jaw worked, like the words were physically painful to push out. He looked away, focused on some point past his shoulder. Shadows cast, making it almost impossible for him to see Kian's face.
"I have healed twenty-seven people who were in the same state as Tera. Seventeen children and ten adults. I didn't know that they would not be really cured because this was all new to us. Neitoloums had appeared around 10 years ago, and I got to know about Khem even later. It wasn't something you find information about in scrolls or books. We knew nothing about the illness he spread, what happened afterwards."
We? So, there are more who knew about Khem? Xal thought yet kept quiet, listening to his voice, which came out more like a tired narration, as if he'd told this speech to thousands more.
"Families started complaining after a year, saying the people I healed weren't waking up. When I understood that if the illness is settled in for too long, extracting it won't help, I stopped healing people in that state. But I still healed twelve more, some I gave in for undeniable requests, and some…some were desperate moments where I prayed for a miracle to happen."
Kian stopped. Closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell with a shaky breath that seemed to hurt on the way out.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with something Xal couldn't name yet. Dread, maybe? Or the feeling you get right before everything you thought to be the absolute truth turned into the complete opposite, leaving you in the wrong.
"Out of all twenty-seven people, two are dead, and the other twenty-five never woke up. All are in a coma. None of them Xal…"
His voice wavered. He swallowed hard, forced the words out anyway.
"It's been 10 years since I healed the first person in that condition; he still hadn't woken up. None of them woke up, and nor will they ever, because the damage done to the link between the soul and the physical body, and separately, is not natural; it's irreversible. Medicine cannot fix them; they will never recover, and I don't know how to fix them. They simply exist through machines and medication as long as the people around them want to."
Xal felt the ground shift beneath him. Twenty-five people. In comas. Because Kian had tried to save them.
Was he telling the truth? If he wasn't at what cost? Because it was his job. He took money to heal people. These parents were rich and willing to give anything to save Tera, but he refused.
His mind struggled to process each word, to line them up in an order that made sense, to accept that there was nothing they could do.
"So, if you want me to put Tera in the same condition, tell me. Tell me right now, and I'll take the spirit illness out of her."
The challenge hung in the air between them, cruel, unforgiving, despite whichever choice was made.
"I… I didn't… I don't… Fuck!"
The words wouldn't form properly. He had this mirror of thoughts, well-maintained, no one could break it. No one could convince him otherwise. Xal's throat felt tight, his thoughts scattered with the broken pieces of that mirror digging into his insides.
How was this fair? Kian was here, with the ability to cure that dying girl, protect her family from suffering her loss, but he had to accept that the cure was worse than death.
A living death.
Machines breathing for her, keeping her heart pumping, while she never opened her eyes again.
Never laughed or cried or existed as anything more than a body in a bed.
What kind of a fucked up choice was that? What kind of world offered only those options?
The air felt colder as the inevitable decision loomed above them.
"Go home, Xal. Find a job with responsibilities that don't become a burden to yourself afterwards. Take care of your parents and… have a life that you won't regret. I promise that if I ever hunt down Khem, I will tell you. Or, for what's worth, better that you let your sister's memory rest in peace. Hate would never bring satisfaction or peace. We're done here. Goodbye."
With those words he couldn't deny, Kian turned and walked through the gate, his footsteps unsteady in his ears. Within seconds, he disappeared inside the car and drove off, leaving him standing there alone.
Xal's legs gave out. He half sat, half fell onto the stairs, hands immediately going to his hair, tugging at it hard enough to hurt. Cursing under his breath at his own impatience. His stubbornness. His complete inability to understand what was right in front of him.
"Fuck. Fuck. Stupid-"
His mind raced, trying to reconcile everything.
For some reason, surgeons came to his mind first out of nowhere.
Firefighters.
Soldiers.
People who took on responsibilities that normal people couldn't.
Who carried the weight of other lives in their hands and made impossible decisions every single day.
Kian was doing the same thing. Maybe worse, because at least surgeons could point to statistics, to medical journals, to the support of an entire hospital behind them. He had nothing. No reference books. No precedent. Just trial and error with human lives hanging in the balance.
What he witnessed today was similar to a surgeon getting blamed when a patient with a five percent chance of survival died on the table. The family had consented to the surgery, understood the risks, and the surgeon had done everything possible. But grief didn't care, or understand about statistics or best efforts.
The difference was that even when the parents gave consent, Kian made the decision NOT to do the surgery. To spare the patient from prolonged suffering. To give families the chance to say goodbye. And he still got blamed for it.
His heart stopped the moment that sound reached his ears.
A loud wail echoed from the house, sending shivers down his body. A painful cry that could mean nothing but the loss of that little life.
Just like Xehelya.
Xal smashed his fist over his thigh, exasperated.
Even though it wasn't his fault, Kian had taken the blame. Absorbed it like a sponge. He remembered how Kian had snapped in the car, "It's not MY FAULT that they didn't TELL me before it's TOO LATE!"
But inside that house, when Tera's mother was hitting him, cursing him, he hadn't said a word. Hadn't pointed fingers or tried to explain that the reason she is dying is that they had removed the amulet against his explicit instructions. He just stood there and took it all. Every accusation, every bit of pain and rage, so the parents wouldn't be left drowning in regret on top of their grief.
He started connecting dots he'd been too stubborn to see before.
Everything he had said from the day they met suddenly clicked into place like the cogs inside a watch.
"It's not sunshine and rainbows, it's not easy, my world is a mess."
He hadn't been exaggerating. He'd been stating a simple, brutal fact.
From the moment he had met him, he had been telling nothing but the truth.
It was Xal who was hesitant to believe because he needed this to be an easy path so that he could comfortably be by his side, use him to find Khem.
Kian was probably the same age as him. Yet he carried himself with a weariness that belonged to someone decades older. Too mature for his age.
Just yesterday, Xal had been mentally murdering him for being childish, immature, bratty, and inconsiderate. The list went on and on. He couldn't help but think again that it was almost like he'd met twins with completely different personalities, the spoiled rich kid who complained about everything, and this other person who sacrificed his own well-being to spare others pain.
Sitting there on those stairs, Xal felt like he was back at square one. No job. No purpose. No way to find Xehelya's murderer. Just a mess of confusion and memories of things that only happened in movies.
"Oh fuck this!" He burst out and stood up. Thinking was never his A game, and he was Xal Renharth, who never went back on his words. So, why now? He said he decided to be his bodyguard three days ago; he declared it, so he will make this work somehow.
I'll take the job and find Khem with his help.
The thought came quietly, too quick, just like that day at the hotel, but it settled into his chest like an anchor finding the ocean floor.
Find a job that you won't regret having.
He never regretted being a bodyguard. He loved that job. A simple thought. A big decision.
When he considered it, really considered it, the mess in his head started to clear, just as before. It was literally screaming at him that it was the right choice.
Something tugged at his heart when he remembered Kian's almond eyes in that moment of raw honesty. For the first time, he realized that it reminded him of her.
It felt as if his mind had been waiting for him to choose the right path, and now everything could settle into place. Like this was what he was supposed to do all along.
Xal had to stay. Something inside him was contentiously saying that he had to stay with him.
He had to contact him before he hired someone else. Tell him he still wanted the job and find Khem, no matter what it took.
He stood up, pulled out his phone to call, but it went unanswered. Then he opened the map to find the route to his house. That's a three-hour route by two buses and 5 kilometers walking combined.
The map loaded. First three kilometers to the nearest bus stop, and the taxis were not picking up soon enough.
"Damn it!" He cursed, pocketing his phone.
Stupid residential areas with their stupid lack of public transport.
He turned back to the house, crossed his heart, and prayed for Tera and the family. There was nothing else he could do now.
If he couldn't protect anyone else, at least he could protect the one in front of him.
Hurrying past the gate, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started walking in the direction of the bus stop. After a few hundred meters, he stopped.
The red Suzuki sat parked a few meters ahead. Lights off. Engine silent. The number plate matched as far as he could make it out in the darkness.
Was he waiting for me? No way! He is a healer. Not a fortune teller or something.
Curiosity mixed with uncertainty as Xal jogged over. Out of habit, he reached for the driver's side door and opened it. Kian was in the driver's seat. Seatbelt unbuckled.
Curled in on himself with his knees drawn up to his chest, clutching his right hand. The same hand he used at that kid's house, and placed over Tera's. Sweat had plastered his hair to his forehead, soaked through his shirt. His face was creased with pain, eyes squeezed shut, completely oblivious to Xal's presence.
His stomach dropped when he shouldn't be concerned for anyone else but his family.
Stupid purple highlights!
"Kian…hey." He reached in, gently shook the other's shoulder.
He dragged in a quick, sharp breath at the movement, the kind you take when pain spikes suddenly. His pale purple eyes opened slowly, glassy and half-lidded. It appeared as if it took him a few seconds to focus on Xal's face.
"You good?" He asked, retrieving his hand.