Kenneth’s POV
The healer had been working tirelessly for two days. His chants had become the background rhythm of my life, echoing through the silence of Lucy’s room as if each incantation was a heartbeat in place of hers. Candlelight flickered against the stone walls, throwing shadows that seemed to dance with the cadence of his spells. Still, there was no change. Lucy remained motionless, her skin pale, her breath so faint it terrified me to count it.
By the second night, my anxiety had reached its peak. I knew her Aunt must be worried sick, probably checking her phone for a call that would never come. What excuse could I give if days passed without Lucy reaching out? That she was simply “resting”? That would never convince her. The thought made my chest ache.
Finally, the healer slum
