Elias Leywin POV
I collapsed forward, a scream ripping out of me before I could bite it back. Heat swallowed the sound, turning it into something raw and broken. The air stank of burnt flesh. It coated my tongue, and every breath dragged it deeper into my chest.
My gaze dropped.
My arm was gone.
Blood hissed and sizzled where it met the searing magma blade, bone marrow oozing out, surrounded by a smouldering ruin of blackened skin.
"Fuck… Fuck…" I rasped, choking on my own words as agony rolled over me in waves. My fingers twitched helplessly, but there were no fingers left to move.
Golden light surged violently from deep within me. It raced toward the mutilated stump to my left arm. I screamed again. My head threw back. A blindingly bright golden light surrounded the injured area, and from within the light came a sickening crack as bone began to grow.
Pale white spines erupted from the blackened stump, splitting flesh apart as they shot outward, lengthening in jerky bursts. A wet, grating scrape, like stones grinding together inside my own body. The sound was unbearable.
Muscles writhed like worms as they slithered up the length of the new bone, weaving around it in a grotesque dance. Fibrous cords tightened and snapped into place, jerking my half-formed hand in spasms that made bile rise in my throat. Tendons spooled over them in clumps and stitched together in a patchwork of living tissue.
Skin crept like liquid gold from my shoulder down to my fingertips, sealing the ghastly mess beneath a fresh surface. My hand flexed involuntarily as every nerve screamed as if dipped in fire.
Olfred stood rooted in place, his magma sword crumbling to harmless slag in his hand. His face was pale beneath his soot-smeared beard, wide eyes darting between the arm on the floor and the baby's smooth flesh that formed my new arm.
"I'll be damned. The boy truly can do it. A feat worthy of the old legends." King Dawsid smiled as he tilted his head toward me. "My apologies, lad. I had to see it with my own eyes."
I snapped my gaze up at him, rage boiling hotter than the magma that had just taken my arm. "Apologies?!" I barked, staggering to my feet despite the trembling in my legs. "You-" I stammered. "You cut my arm off like it was nothing! You think a simple 'sorry' makes that fine? WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" My new hand trembled at my side, its knuckles white.
"Calm yourself, boy," Dawsid said, waving one hand dismissively as if my outrage were no more than an unruly breeze. "You can heal yourself. What's a lost arm to you, eh? A moment's discomfort, nothing more."
"A moment's discomfort?!" I exploded, my voice cracking as it bounced off the vaulted stone walls. "You mutilated me like I was some kind of animal. I- I thought I was going to die!" My throat burned, every word scraping raw as the image of the molten blade flashed in my mind again.
Dawsid shrugged. "But you didn't die, did you? You're standing right here, whole again. The magic you wield is nothing short of a miracle, lad. If you can bring yourself back from something like that, then there's no need for this tantrum."
"Tantrum?!" My voice cracked under the weight of my rage. "You cut my arm off like it was nothing and call this a tantrum?!"
Olfred took a cautious step forward, his previously unshakable composure cracked by what he had just done and witnessed. "Your Majesty," he rumbled as his eyes flicked warily between his king and me. "Perhaps this could wait. The lad's been through hell already. He deserves an explanation, at the very least."
Dawsid tilted his head toward his trusted warrior, brow raised in faint irritation.
"Forgive me, King Dawsid," Olfred said, stepping closer to stand slightly between us, his massive frame a quiet barrier against my trembling fury, "But you did just order me to take his arm." His gaze hardened slightly, uncharacteristically stern for someone addressing his liege. "Without warning him. Without knowing if the boy could even survive it." His fists clenched at his sides, the faint heat of his fading magic making the air shimmer around him. "With all due respect, my king, that is no way to treat an ally, nor to presumably confirm something."
I let out a harsh, uneven laugh that bordered on a sob, my voice shaking as I glared past Olfred at Dawsid. "An ally?!" I spat, trying to understand the utter hypocrisy that I had just heard.
Dawsid's amusement faded just enough to show a flicker of annoyance. He leaned forward slightly, his heavy hands clasping the arms of his throne. "Pain is temporary, boy. Strength lasts forever."
I let out a low growl as the king clapped his hands together again.
"I wish to hire your services, boy," he smirked.
'What?'
I stood there, slack-jawed at his absurd statement.
"What?" I repeated, my voice hoarse. My hands trembled at my sides, my newly grown arm aching. "You-you mutilated me, made me think that I was going to die, and now you've got the audacity to say you want to hire me? ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE OLD MAN?!"
Dawsid leaned back on his throne, completely unbothered. His thick fingers drummed lazily on the armrest. "Aye, boy," he said, tone laced with irritating calm. "What you just did… there's no healer in this world who could match it. That kind of gift shouldn't be left to sit idle. It's something worth paying for."
"I'm not some tool for you to throw coin at!" I barked. "And after what you just pulled, you couldn't pay me enough to-"
"Ten thousand gold."
The words winded me. My jaw snapped shut with an audible click. I just stared at him, my brain scrambling to process what he had just said.
"W- what?" I stuttered.
The King of Dwarves leaned forward, his smirk shifting into a knowing grin. "I will pay you ten thousand gold for your services. All yours, lad, in a one-time payment, delivered in a Dimensional Ring that could hold this entire Castle inside with room to spare, no strings beyond what we ask of you." He spread his arms, his voice growing just a touch more serious. "And not just gold. You'd have the full support of the Greysunder royal line at your back. Our protection, our favour, our name to call upon in every kingdom on this continent."
My mouth opened and closed. My righteous fury tangled up with the weight of the offer.
'Ten thousand gold… Ten whole thousands…'
Dawsid chuckled, clearly reading every thought flickering across my face. "Aye, that's what I thought. Every man has a price, lad. You've just heard yours." He gestured vaguely with one hand as if dismissing my earlier outrage as a passing storm. "So what do you say? Do we put this ugly start behind us and strike a deal?"
"W-what would you have me do?" I stammered, looking up at the dwarven king.
Queen Glaudera, who had been silent throughout the entire exchange, rose from her seat beside him. Her expression was more composed than her husband's, yet there was something heavy in her eyes.
"We needed a miracle." She said in a resigned tone.
"Hm?"
"We wish to have a child." She folded her hands neatly in front of her, her gaze fixed on me. "For years, we have tried everything. Healers, remedies from across the continent. Nothing has worked. Our line faces extinction unless a miracle can be made flesh. When we heard what happened to you…" She said, trailing off into a mumble.
"Why would you need me for that?" I asked, with a tilt of my head, "Couldn't you just ask another stork to bring you a baby instead?"
The Queen of the Dwarfs let an exhale out of her nose. "That may be true, but a mother still needs to carry a child in her belly for some time to make sure the child grows to be strong." A smile grew at the corner of her lips as a hand drifted to her midsection.
My hands tightened at my sides as I looked up to the pair ahead of me. "I-I don't know if I can use it on others…"
"It's fine, boy," Dawsid said tiredly, "We've already sunk fortune into this… issue."
"I see." My fists loosened.
I exhaled as Dawsid leaned forward.
"So, lad," he rumbled, "Will you try?"
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
'I don't even understand how it happened. How it worked. It had just had.'
'My mana had done what it needed to keep me alive. If it could do that for me, could it do the same for someone else? And if that's the case, could I do it on command?'
My gaze flicked to Queen Glaudera. She stood there, every inch of her frame holding itself together through sheer will. There was a desperation in her eyes that no crown could hide.
"I…" I said through clenched jaw. "I'll try," I said, forcing the words out. "But I'm not promising anything."
The queen's composure broke in a soft, trembling breath. Relief flooded her features, and for the first time since entering the throne room, her regal mask slipped to reveal something deeply human, or rather Dwarven.
She descended the steps from her throne. When she reached me, she placed both hands gently over mine. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick. "You don't know what this means to me… to us."
I nodded stiffly. My chest tight, caught between guilt, doubt, and a tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could actually help these two… And get a lot of money for my time.
Dawsid clapped his hands. "Good! Then let's not waste time standing about like fools." He rose to his feet, his boots thudding against the stone floor as he gestured for us to follow. "Come on, boy. Let's get to it."
Olfred fell in behind us, his usual gruff confidence muted as he cast me a glance that was equal parts concern and warning.
'How the hell was I supposed to do this? I barely understand what my magic is, let alone how to use it on someone else. I don't even know what's 'broken' in the queen.'
We reached a grand wooden door flanked by two dwarven guards, who bowed as the king and queen approached. Dawsid gave a curt nod, and the guards pushed the heavy door open, revealing a lavish bedchamber.
Golden candlelight danced around the hung tapestries. A massive bed stood in the centre, its deep red blankets rich enough to buy a small village.
The queen crossed to the bed and sat gracefully on its edge before reclining slowly. Her hands once again rested over her midsection. She turned her head to me, her eyes searching mine with quiet desperation. "Whenever you are ready," she murmured softly.
I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to focus. To remember every detail of what had happened to my arm. The raw agony. The overwhelming surge of mana that had ripped through my body. The way my magic had built it anew without guidance.
'That strange, Ethereal Glow. Avalon's warmth…'
Maybe that was the key. Maybe this wasn't something I needed to think through. Maybe I just had to let go. To let that same unstoppable force take over and do what it had done to save me.
I swallowed hard and stepped closer to the bed, my hands flexing nervously at my sides. "I… I don't know if this will work," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I've never tried to heal someone else before."
Glaudera gave me the smallest of smiles. "Trying is all we can ask of you," she said softly.
I slowly nodded as I let out a long breath. I reached out and hesitantly placed a hand over the woman's midsection.
'Focus, Elias… Focus on that feeling.'
Mana swelled in my core. It steadily flowed down my arm as warm golden light emanated from my palm.
The warmth spread, like sunlight breaking through a cloudy dawn. My breaths came slow and uneven, every ounce of my focus sinking into the glow building in my palm. I closed my eyes, shutting out the bedchamber and the eager eyes of the two men in the room with me.
'Come on… just like before. Just like with my arm…please…'
But it wasn't the same. There was no stabbing pain, no severed flesh screaming to be made whole. There was no clear direction, no instinctive pull telling my magic what to do. It just… gathered, waiting for command, for a purpose I did not have to give.
My brows furrowed, sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. My magic hummed like a caged storm under my skin, while my own uncertainty mirrored it perfectly.
I grit my teeth, frustration biting at the edges of my panic. My magic wavered, the glow flickering against Glaudera's dress like a dying lantern.
And then a memory slammed into me. The moment my arm grew back, the white-hot agony, the unstoppable surge of light, my magic acting without guidance. I hadn't told it to fix me. It had just… known.
'Maybe I don't need to know what's broken. Maybe my magic already did.'
I took a trembling breath, closing my eyes tighter. I loosened my grip on my mana, letting it flow freely, trusting it to do what it had done before.
The difference was immediate. The light brightened, spilling in soft golden waves across Glaudera's midsection. The warmth deepened, filling the room like a summer breeze.
Glaudera let out a faint, shaky gasp, her hands gripping the sheets beside her. But she didn't pull away. Her breathing quickened, but not in fear. My whole world narrowed to that glow, that connection, as my mana moved on its own.
The pull began to fade. The golden light dimmed until there was only a faint shimmer on my fingertips. I sagged forward slightly, breathing hard, pulling my hand back as if it weighed a hundred pounds.
Glaudera opened her shimmering eyes, wet with unshed tears. She didn't speak, just brought a trembling hand to her abdomen as if afraid to disturb some delicate miracle. "I… I feel… different." She whispered.
Dawsid's heavy boots thundered as he took a step closer, his usual booming tone strangely careful. "Different how, my love?"
She blinked, her gaze flicking up to meet mine briefly before looking at him. "Warm," she said, "I feel warm."
The once stoic king looked at me with teared eyes as he uttered a single phrase.
"Thank You"