Behind the family, without any of them having heard him approach, a tall silhouette materialized, covered from head to toe in a dark robe.
"Sorry for coming in without warning," a calm male voice said from beneath the hood. "Is everyone alright?"
"Y-yes…" the father said with difficulty.
"My husband is hurt!" the mother exclaimed, kneeling back down beside him. "That monster got him and he's losing a lot of blood! Please, I beg you, can you help him?"
The elf lay on the ground, pale, his breathing ragged, a dozen open wounds scattered across his body.
Mark gave the wounds a quick look, then turned slightly toward Aria.
"Heal him," he ordered.
"Right away, Master."
Aria approached the injured elf, rolled up her sleeves, and studied her own hands with a thoughtful expression.
"You're lucky I stored a mid-level healing spell in one of these before we left," she commented, turning one of the rings on her fingers. "So hold still for a moment… this won't hurt."
