"I heard you finished three missions in just a few days," Marina murmured, her tone softening into a raw, aching concern that she couldn't quite hide. "Why must you throw your life into the teeth of such hunts? Is it... is it because of your past? Because of that fire in your blood?"
"You know me better'n anyone, Marina," Seraph admitted with a stark, quiet honesty. "It was never my intent to court death. I didn't know the mission'd lead me straight to a Piperclown. At the time, I only thought of tearing those two from the jaws of the abyss."
"But your life matters too... it matters to me," Marina whispered, her head bowed as she toyed with the hem of her sleeve. "Promise me... promise you'll never throw yourself into such godforsaken peril again."
"I promise," Seraph replied, offering no resistance, his voice as smooth as silk.
Yet, he knew his vow offered her little sanctuary from the fears that clawed at her mind.
"Sigh... it's only today I realise what a rogue you really are. All these years, you played the part of the innocent youth!" Marina looked into his eyes, her confusion laced with a lingering dread. "I find I can't manage you at all."
She spoke with a heart that stubbornly refused to surrender its burden of worry.
"I haven't deceived you, Marina. Truly, I didn't go looking for trouble—it was a bit of a freak accident," Seraph said, his voice carrying a trace of grim, dry humour. "You know me... I'm usually the first one to run away when things get hairy. Since when've I ever been the type to charge headlong into danger? Haha."
"Liar…" Marina whispered, her heart aching even as a small smile threatened to break. She turned her back to him, her fingers moving with practiced grace as she began assembling his alchemical kit. "Take these. I can't help you on the battlefield, but if these draughts can keep you in one piece, then they've served their only purpose."
She set the heavy glass vials on the mahogany table with a rhythmic clink. Among them sat a vial of viscous green liquid that looked unsettlingly lethal—the antidote.
"I prepared these for you some time ago," Marina said as she meticulously arranged the vials. "If you need 'em, use 'em. Don't go hoarding 'em like some dragon's treasure. And the moment you run low, you're to come straight back to me. No excuses."
She held each bottle against the window's golden light, checking the clarity to ensure every herbal infusion was perfect.
"You make it sound as though I should return for your sake, rather than for these little baubles," Seraph remarked, his tone laced with a playful, dangerous curiosity.
"No!—I didn't mean it like that at all!" Marina denied him instantly, her face flushing a deep, sudden crimson.
"So, you don't want me here then?" Seraph lowered his head, his voice trailing off into a carefully feigned melancholy.
"That's not it!" She instinctively caught his hand, her fingers warm against his skin, as if to anchor him before he could retreat into the shadows. "If you like... you can come whenever you please. I'll always be here waiting... waiting for you to come home."
The panic in her voice was unmistakably sincere. Seraph looked into her eyes, his own gaze radiating a rare warmth and a profound sense of gratitude.
"My thanks, Marina. In all of Sanctus, you're the only one who's truly genuine with me. The only one who stayed when the world turned cold. If you weren't in my life, I wouldn't be standing here now, looking into eyes as exquisite as aquamarine stars. I don't know how I'd endure the days ahead without you."
As he spoke, his heterochromatic eyes shimmered with a distinct, haunting glint of mageia.
"You're teasing me again!" Marina whispered, averting her gaze as she bit her lip to suppress a radiant smile. "Next time... I won't fall for it. I swear."
"Mmm... and next time, I won't be coming for potions. I'll be wanting—" Seraph leaned in, his warm breath grazing the shell of her ear.
"Wicked man!—Hold your tongue at once!" she hissed, her breath hitching in her throat.
She pressed her face against the firm fabric of his chest, shielding her burning, rose-hued cheeks from his predatory view.
[COUGH!]
At the very moment Seraph intended to continue his teasing, a heavy, hacking cough erupted from beyond the sterile walls. It was the signal: Nahreb had finally returned to the waking world.
"Nahreb's awake!" Marina exclaimed the instant the sound struck the air.
She pulled away with clinical haste and hurried toward the door, her professional instincts overriding her racing heart. Seraph gathered the potions, securing them within his gear with a silent sigh before following. A flicker of doubt crossed his mind like a passing shadow.
"Nahreb?" he muttered.
"The boy you rescued—have you forgotten so soon?" Marina replied, her pace quickening as she led the way out of her private sanctum.
"I know his name," Seraph remarked, trailing behind. "I'm just wondering... has he truly been unresponsive since he got here? Not a single word?"
"Completely. Since I started his treatment, he hasn't stirred once. Not until this very breath," Marina answered without looking back.
"Then why do I sense..." Seraph's voice trailed off into a hollow, suspicious silence.
He cut his words short as they found the boy's gaze already fixed upon them, cold and unwavering. Within moments, they reached the bedside in the ivory-white ward.
Marina snapped her fingers with practiced, effortless grace. A white crystal orb drifted from the counter, hovering silently above Nahreb's head. It projected a beam of pure white mageia light, scanning the boy with surgical precision; in a heartbeat, the radiance vanished, and the orb receded to its velvet pedestal.
Every motion of the High Healer was executed in the blink of an eye. Even Seraph, with his sharpened senses, could scarcely track the fluidity of her art.
"Nahreb... don't be afraid," Marina said, her voice a soothing, maternal balm. "This is Sanctus. I am Healer Marina, and this is Lord Seraph—the one who brought you back from the dark. You're safe now. Your family'll be here today to take you home."
Marina was born to be a healer. Her affinity lay within the aqua element, a perfect resonance with the sky-blue tresses that cascaded over her shoulders like a living stream. Her gentle temperament was the very embodiment of her power. Even without active casting, a soft azure aura radiated from her—an involuntary luminescence that anchored the restless soul and stilled the storms within those nearby. To the afflicted, she was more than a magis; she was a goddess of mercy.
Her voice carried the resonance of the celestial realms. Standing at her side, Seraph could feel the ambient pulse of her restorative mageia—a sensation akin to the warm embrace of a calm sea.
"When can I leave?" Nahreb asked. His voice cut through the warmth with a striking, crystalline frigidity.
The boy was unnervingly composed, showing none of the tremors or stammering of a trauma victim. He seemed forged from ice and silence. Among the nobility, some were warped by neglect into creatures of vice, while others were tempered by absolute discipline from their first breath. Nahreb appeared to be the latter, his soul already heavily armoured against the world.
"There is no cause for distress," Marina reassured him, her voice a sweet, practiced melody. "Now that you're awake, I'll run one final diagnostic... then I'll summon your family to take you home. You miss your hearth, don't you?"
Her words were a masterful weave, designed to dismantle the psychological bulwarks of the broken. In her presence, one felt an unshakeable sense of sanctuary.
'Strange...' Seraph mused, his suspicion sharpening into a blade.
"I'm not distressed," Nahreb stated, his voice a flat void of emotion.
"Not even a little?" Seraph interjected, his tone as sharp as a headsman's axe. "Are you not even the least bit bewildered as to how you ended up here? What do you remember about your abduction? About that demonic hole you were found in? Do you recall the moments before the darkness took you? Do you remember a magis named Rohtas? The Piperclowns—what'd they do to you? What happened before I arrived?!"