“How much?”
Pisco asked. His whole body was wrapped in bandages.
“Huh?”
Zachariah leaned closer to him. Pisco repeated himself.
“How much what?” Zachariah asked with a frown.
“I am guessing I am going to owe you for this?”
Pisco explained.
“Oh, we don't need to talk about that…”
“How much?” Pisco asked interrupting him.
“Seven thousand,” Zachariah said and waited for a reaction.
“The medicine to treat your burns cost. And there are physicians and the magic potions…”
Zachariah tried to explain.
“It is fine,” Pisco said and closed his eyes.
After only a week of staying in bed. He sat up, using a knife he started to cut off dead skin. After he rubbed the ointment the physician had given him. He did this continuously for a week.
One morning he just walked out of bed.
“Where are
