"Orichon rarely receives mages gifted with healing abilities," Luca explained on their way to the guild master's quarters. "On a strategic standpoint, the presence of a healer could heighten our chances of survivability. So unless you are an utter idiot, it's not hard to see why we consider it a blessing when one arrives."

He looked pointedly at Miklos, and it took a good while for the words to sink in.

When they did, cold dread settled over him like a weighted blanket while his wounds throbbed in silent agreement. It dawned on Miklos that Luca expected much from him, and he was almost certain that the blonde-haired male would not be the first and last to hold such a sentiment. Worst of all, was that he imagined he had to brace himself to fall short of their expectations. There were limitations to his powers that even the wisest would refuse to acknowledge.

Then, Luca added with a wry smile: "Well, that also depends on whether he has half a brain to do anything other than pick his nose. Stand around. Look moronic."

Miklos scowled at him. "I do not pick my nose."

A few paces ahead of them, Rei headed the small party. Somewhere along the way when they had picked Krea up from the female sleeping quarters, she had deposited her black leather jerkin and an assortment of other protective gear - shoulder guard, bracers - into her personal trunk. With her weapons remaining close by her side, she looked only a little less intimidating. A sheathed dagger was strapped behind her on a tight leather sling, hilt pointed downwards, primed and ready to be whipped out at a moment's notice. Her other weapon - a fighting knife the length of Miklos's arm rested on her left hip.

"A blessing. Sure," Miklos heard her mutter under her breath with distaste and recalled the look Rei had given him back at the infirmary. It was so sour that he'd dropped the subject despite a burning curiosity compelling him to prod further. Evidently, the revelation of the true nature of his abilities stirred unwanted memories that the girl wished not to discuss.

"It's not that simple," Miklos grumbled to no one in particular. "I can't patch everything up."

Without dying myself. Or heal people that I don't want to.

"Still, your powers are rather unusual," Luca remarked while picking absentmindedly at his nails. "Our last healer could perform healing spells without experiencing the sort of repercussions you had."

"But she couldn't fix anything beyond broken bones," Rei interjected flatly.

As per usual, Krea was silent, her quiet footsteps moving lightly across the ground and working in complete synchronization with the rest of her body to dissolve into thin air. Earlier, Leo had labelled her as a mage with impressive powers, but there was nothing special about the girl that Miklos could discern. Not from the way her eyes were perpetually hidden beneath the dark curls of her long hair, and certainly not from the manner in which she seemed to have somehow convinced herself that Miklos was non-existent.

They passed the infirmary and stopped at a set of solid oak doors on the left side of the hallway. Oil lamps flanked either side. The wood was rimmed with decorative metal and engraved with depictions of various exotic beasts so impressive that it they were seared into Miklos's memory.

However, something wasn't right. The atmosphere hovering over the party outside Loric's door had taken a plunge below freezing temperatures. Krea shifted her feet and fiddled with the cloak that concealed the entire length of her body. It was the oddest thing yet that Miklos had seen her do, for the girl hardly ever fidgeted. Both Rei and Luca held solemn expressions on their faces, their eyes betraying the emotions that they perhaps sought to contain. Anger blazed in Rei's with a startling intensity. Resentful, even.

Not bothering to knock, she pushed open the doors and entered. The others trundled in after her. Unsure and apprehensive of what was to come, Miklos stepped in last.

Inside, Orichon's guild master sat behind a work desk in the midst of his humble abode that appeared nothing like what the elaborateness of his doors had suggested. Shaped in a rough semi-circle, the room hosted a simple bed, several large shelves of books, a wardrobe, various crude drawers, and. . . stacks of documents. Loads of them. Random articles of paper were strewn all over, almost blanketing the furniture and whatever exposed ground available in a snowy white fluff.

"Good evening," Loric greeted them cheerfully from behind a handful of wrinkled parchments. He paused, studying Miklos with sudden interest. His eyes drifted down to the boy's arms, swiveled towards Rei and examined her, then back to meet Miklos's gaze.

"You look different," he finally said. And somehow, Miklos got the message: When you are ready, I'll be listening.

Hoping for guidance of some sort, Miklos glanced at Rei, but she was shuffling distractedly through stray pieces of paper and stepping on them like it hardly mattered. How anyone could walk through this mess, let alone live in it was beyond him.

The curved part of the room had a single window stretching from one end to the other, overlooking the forest where Miklos had very nearly become spider-feed approximately four hours ago. The storm outside continued to rage in an unstoppable fervor. Pillars of water appeared and disappeared. Unfortunately, the window gave them a helpful view of it all.

Loric scratched his beard. "I must apologize for this mess. It is quite unsightly, but I've been busy as of late."

Rei glowered at him. "Yea, doing everything and anything but what you ought to be working on."

Loric's expression tightened.

"Rei," Luca warned.

"I-I'll come by after dinner, Father," Krea offered quietly. "I'll tidy up what I can."

Miklos found his mouth gaping wide open. "Father?" he repeated.

"Yes, Miklos. Krea is my adopted daughter," Loric said calmly.

"Okay. . . Sure, why not," he muttered to himself. But Rei was not finished.

"Aegnor Etheldon has passed on," she said in a steady, determined voice. "The princeling brat will be coronated in five days at Vargoth City, but until then, the kingdom's seat of power lies barren. An opportunity like this will not present itself for the next few decades. Don't you think that it's high time we fought for our freedom? We are the people of the kingdom of Athalos - not 'creatures' to be left to our own devices in these atrocious lands. Far too many of us have been allowed to die by their hands."

"She does raise pertinent points, sir," Luca spoke.

A sigh escaped Loric who seemed to age ten years in the span of a few minutes. "Reionne, we have been over this countless of times. You are well aware of my stand. As always, the answer is no." Miklos could tell that he was attempting to sound casual, but his voice strained with the effort.

Beside him, Krea continued to fidget. For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to add something, but thought better of it and shut her mouth.

"I'll find a way," Rei promised. "I will change your mind, and I will topple the Etheldon bloodline." Her steel-grey eyes flashed with defiance, her words spoken with such conviction that Miklos almost believed her.

For a long while, the room was silent. Tension emanated from the mages present. Miklos felt suffocated, but he couldn't exactly turn tail to make a convenient exit. Furthermore, the little argument had riled up his senses. He was ready to hear more. His curiosity was piqued.

"Now, about Miklos," Loric broke the silence. "Well, you know the drill. Perhaps you can give me the debrief, Luca."

Miklos swallowed and thought: Uh oh.

"We chanced upon him during our patrol duty. Rescued him from the lair of a Vynax spider," Luca said without hesitation. "Another was present but he. . . he didn't make it."

"It was my fault," all three declared at once, before they exchanged glares as though they had each stolen a responsibility that only one may shoulder.

"I-I fell asleep. I tried to keep my emotions in check. . . I'm sorry," Krea stammered.

Luca rolled his eyes and muttered, "It was a stupid plan by me from the start, anyway."

At that, Miklos almost doubled-over. For Luca to admit a mistake - ceaselessly proud and smug as he was - perhaps the world was coming to an end.

"You lacked information," Rei interceded. "Information that I could have provided if I had went along from the start. What was I thinking? We are most effective in our threes. Lesson four taught us that." She looked at Loric and something passed between them. His expression was forlorn, yet there was a glimmer of pride concealed within his eyes. He was a teacher; a fatherly figure gazing upon his children. He was Orichon's guild master and more.

Hearing all their brave confessions, Miklos couldn't help remembering that he had his own small guilt to bear.

However, Rei wasn't done with heaping responsibilities on her plate. She told Loric how the real Miklos had leaped back into the fray under the impression that she was in danger, and because she failed to get her powers under control at the crucial moment. . .

His death was her fault, she asserted.

Rei stared at her hands. Pain, guilt, and sadness rolled in all at once. Her eyes were haunted and clouded with grief, so poignant that Miklos sensed that part of those emotions were rooted somewhere else in an older past.

She grieved the death of someone other than Miklos's namesake.

Then, the emotions which she laid bare for those present to see were quickly yanked back, shoved into a cupboard, and shut tight.

"You will find a way to rein it in," Loric said with a confident smile. "Magic is a gift. Embrace it, not fear it - and it will serve you well. As for you, my daughter," he addressed Krea. "Your condition may hinder you at times, but you can depend on your comrades. However, you mustn't see it as weakness."

"Yes, Father," Krea answered softly, and Miklos watched as she bowed with a fist over her left breast. A formal gesture of respect in the guild, Leo had told him.

"And Luca?"

"Here, sir," came the response.

"Doubt is always a dangerous thing for a strategist. Have faith."

Luca bowed in the same manner as Krea did. "Yes, sir," he replied.

"Now, for the administrative matters. I will assign Miklos to your team until he is ready to be allocated to a permanent-"

"Actually, Loric," Rei interrupted. "It may be more fitting to put him under the apprenticeship of Leina."

A sudden jolt zipped through Miklos. Under Leina? Ha-ha. No.

"No, thank you!" he shook his head furiously.

"Miklos, do you want to tell Loric yourself, or shall I?" Rei asked. Across the table, Loric waited expectantly, a respectable sea of calm and patience.

"Tell what?"

Rei rolled her eyes.

Oh.

"Fine, I will," Miklos grumbled. Facing Loric, he said unsteadily: "I'm a. . . healer." At least, that was what Rei had called him. "I can-" Miklos wasn't sure what to say. "-I can heal people?"

"You really are a complete idiot," Luca sighed exasperatedly.

"Shut up-"

"A dimwit," Rei nodded in agreement. A giggle bubbled up Krea's throat. The effort to suppress it must have proved too much for her, for she started in a coughing fit.

"Steady, Krea," both Rei and Luca warned. Arms poised and taut, Luca leaned slightly forward as though he were expecting something to happen in the next instant.

Nothing did, and Luca relaxed.

"So, Miklos, are you aware of the full extent of your abilities?" Loric inquired.

"I think so."

"Miklos isn't a regular healer," Rei put in for him, and he figured she must have grown impatient while he skirted about trying to gather his brain cells. "He transfers another's inflictions to his own body, and heals from the wounds that he acquires far quicker than what is normally possible."

"Oh? Let's see. . ." the guild master murmured. In a blink, his eyes had turned into a brilliant shade of gold, and they stared at Miklos intently. It was like being watched by golden orbs of light. Gentle, yet unsettling.

"Ah, I see what you mean," Loric said after a while.

Miklos wrinkled his nose in confusion. "What? What were you looking at?"

"I was observing the process of your body replenishing its magic reserves," Loric said simply. "I must say, it's doing a splendid job at repairing the wounds on your arms."

"You can see that?"

"Yes, child, and so can they," he gestured towards Rei and the others. "With proper training, you will be able too."

"Uh, sir? Will I be assigned to Leina?"

"No," Loric smiled. "My decision stands, tempting as it may be to keep you safe from the dangers outside. I expect Luca would understand."

Miklos shot Luca a questioning look.

Luca shrugged. "If you are assigned to us, you will go through combat training like everyone else. You'll accompany us on several assignments. Loric intends for you to be a combat medic - they are always useful to have in the out-field. . ." He looked at Miklos doubtfully and sighed. "We'll have to see about the 'combat' part."

At any rate, Miklos figured it would be less dreary than a permanent job at the infirmary. He had no desire to spend the rest of his days memorizing recipes of healing concoctions conjured by a crazy old lady.

"It's settled then," Loric affirmed. "One more thing, Miklos."

"Yes. . . sir?"

"It is imperative for us to maintain the secrecy of our identities outside the Wildlands. We cannot afford to have family members and acquaintances recognizing an exiled Orichon mage - alive, what's more. It'll raise suspicions that perhaps the Wildlands isn't as inhospitable as they think. That said, we have certain measures put in place, and we try to prevent our mages from carrying out assignments in their places of origin."

That left them only one question unanswered.

"Where are you from, kid?" Luca asked.

"Uh, Merralith City."

Rei frowned.

"Family profession? We could use another blacksmith."

"Do I look like a smithy to you?" Miklos snorted. "I'm the son of the Grand Duke of Merralith. All I've ever done is die from boredom behind castle walls."

Miklos found himself strangely calm when he had dropped the shocking revelation - judging from the jaws that instantly dropped open - almost as if his statement had failed to draw any feelings of emotional attachment from him.

Somewhere within the mountain, a bell tolled, its mellow chimes reverberating down the hallway.

"You are lying," Rei glowered, her eyes dangerously bright. "That's impossible. The Grand Duke of Merralith doesn't have a son."

"And how you would know?" Miklos glared.

"I just do," she snapped.

Loric held up a hand. "Peace, child," he spoke firmly and leveled his gaze with Rei's. The message in his eyes were clear: Drop it.

"Fine," Rei muttered.

"Now, shall we proceed downstairs for dinner?"

Dinner. Right.

Only if Rei promises not to eat me, was his only thought.