Eve, stationed in the healing ward, was occupied with various small injuries and illnesses brought in by city hall workers and visitors alike. Her hands glowed softly as she worked, the golden light flowing from her fingertips to heal minor cuts and bruises. Healing was second nature to her, and she often found it to be more about listening to people’s troubles than about the physical ailments they brought in.
That afternoon, a woman entered, her arm carefully placed to her chest as though it pained her deeply. Eve gestured for her to take a seat, reaching for her healing kit as she observed the woman’s tense demeanor.
“Rough day?” Eve asked, her tone warm and welcoming as she began her work.
The woman looked away, her face shadowed with worry. “You could say that,” she muttered, glanci
