When the elf hit the ground, my stomach turned upside down. Valor and Glory's voices were drowned out by the panicked voices inside my head that were already blaming me for her death.

  I picked Viessa up from the dirt and carried her out of the stables, rushing her inside the tavern, bypassing the hostess and cutting across the establishment until I pushed into the deluxe suite where I had watched Westcott and Nassir plot my demise the night before.

  I laid the elf down on the sofa as Naila, Lexington, and Wedgmund came rushing in from behind.

  "Get the fuck out."

  "I'm a trained medic. Allow me to examine him," Naila said as she took her helmet and gauntlets off.

  I almost repeated myself, only biting my tongue because I realized a major detail I had overlooked in the panic.

  I'm not a fucking doctor.

  I could stitch up a laceration, or apply ointment and bandages, but I wasn't even certified in CPR. What was the proper protocol for that again? Chest compressions, and breathe into their mouth?!

  Lexington pulled a table over and quickly unpacked vials, herbs, and medical supplies.

  "Help me get this armor off him," Naila said, hovering over Viessa. "Wedg, go get some clean rags and two buckets of water, one cold, one hot."

  "You never said your apprentice was a healer. I knew their mana signature was too unique."

  Naila pulled Viessa's heavy helmet off. Silver strands of sweat matted hair clung to the elf's cheeks, her thin eyebrows furrowed in distress. Unprepared for seeing a woman, Naila disregarded her initial shock, and put her ear to the elf's nose as she checked her pulse.

  "She's still breathing, but her pulse is weak, and she's very pale," Naila turned toward me. "Don't just stand there. Help me get her armor off."

  I unfastened the shoulder clasps and side buckles, and slid her chestplate off without scraping her skin, then detached her arm and leg pieces and helped Naila get her out of the chainmail underneath. Viessa's linen undershirt clung to her skin, damp and heavy.

  Naila closed her eyes and laid her palms over the elf's chest.

  I held my breath, anxiety pounding through my skull like a jackhammer. Wedgmund burst through the door with two buckets and a bunch of clean rags.

  "Is she going to be OK?" I asked.

  Naila didn't answer. She grabbed a rag, dipped it in the bucket of ice water and rung it out before draping it over the elf's forehead.

  "She's in mana exhaustion. Her signature has become erratic," Naila said. "If it degrades any further she’ll die."

  "She's an elf?" Lexington's jaw dropped open as he pointed to Viessa's ears.

  Naila gasped.

  "Fix her."

  "I can't..." she said. "I can prevent her from leaking more mana, but that's only a temporary solution. We need a genuine healer."

  "What about Eliko?" Wedgmund asked. “Pearl Banner’s healer?”

  "There are still bits of him stuck underneath my boots," I said.

  "She's an elf," Lexington said again, still flabbergasted.

  Get your head in the game.

  She's not dead yet.

  The initial wave of panic passed. "Keep her alive, and don't let anyone else come in."

  Dagger Step.

  I teleported straight through the ceiling, and appeared in mid-air over the roof. I turned southeast and triggered the second charge at max range, sending me soaring a few streets over.

  Agility Burst.

  I hit the ground running, rushing through back alleys tracing an echo of a memory until I found myself in a familiar lot. The clinic stood as I remembered, rundown and uninviting. I didn't bother knocking. I forced the door open and stepped into the dark.

  "Hello, I need help," I called out with desperation creeping into my shout.

  Floorboards creaked and a door cracked open across the room.

  Target: Oliver

  Level: 4

  Karma: +4575

  Additional Data: Male, 33. Operates a free clinic within Vaulter…

  He squinted as he stepped into the cool gleam of moonlight.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "You can't just come barging in here."

  "It's an emergency."

  Oliver muttered something under his breath and clapped. A lantern hanging from the ceiling lit-up the room. He took one look at me and doubled back.

  "By Galdir's grace, it is an emergency! Quick, lay down here." He patted the wobbly examination table and reached for a jar of ointment.

  "No, it's my friend. They're suffering from mana exhaustion. Grab what you need, I'll take you to them," I said.

  Oliver grumbled as he dipped back into his closet-sized bedroom, threw on a pair of trousers and grabbed a leather pouch.

  "Show me the way," he yawned.

  Before he could protest, I slung him over my shoulders and shot out of the clinic. He shrieked for a few seconds as the air whipped by, and the stars overhead turned into a blur. By the time Agility Burst's effects faded, I was jogging up behind Sentinel's Tavern and Inn.

  The backdoor was locked, until I kicked it open, startling the kitchen staff. I zoomed through the establishment with Oliver begging me to let him go. Eventually, I did. Once we were outside of the deluxe suite.

  I knocked hard. "It's me."

  Wedgmund cracked the door and I pushed my way in, dragging Oliver with me.

  "I feel nauseous... What you did is rude," he whined, glancing at the others. "Your friend here is rude."

  "I'm sorry. Now please help her." I put my hand on his back and guided him over to Viessa.

  Naila was holding the elf's hand, the color drained from her face. Her brow trembled, but she remained in a fixed state of intense concentration.

  "Your friend's an elf!" Oliver said.

  Lexington and Wedgmund shushed him, their expressions grave.

  Oliver tapped on Naila's shoulder. Finally, she snapped out of her trance, and bowed out. Viessa looked no better, skin clammy and extra pale, breaths shallow.

  "Please, give me some space," Oliver said.

  I didn't realize how I had been looming over his shoulder with the others flanking the couch. We dispersed, retreating across the room to a table with a ring of wooden chairs. I sat, uncorked Westcott's unfinished bottle of liquor, poured a glass, and slammed it.

  Oliver retrieved a silver vial from his medicine bag, popped off the cap and put it to Viessa's lips. She coughed, and he glanced over his shoulder. "I'm going to attempt to stabilize her mana. Do not interrupt me under any circumstances."

  The liquid burned all the way down. I started to pour another when Lexington snatched the bottle and the glass for himself.

  "You said you abhor slavery, but you own an elf?" he said.

  "I can't believe it." Naila shook her head. "A delicate creature like that being forced to wear such heavy iron armor, and dragged into hellish dungeons. Gods know what else you have her do."

  "You've got the wrong idea. I met her shortly after I first joined the guild."

  Lexington drummed his fingers against the table. "When you knocked off Drayvoss?"

  I nodded. "I found her in a cage after I took his head. I've been protecting her since."

  "Protecting? She nearly killed herself saving your life." Naila sighed. "Aclana is no country for an elf."

  "Yeah, no shit."

  Valor and Glory fired back a pissed off gaze and a collective, unrelenting silent judgement. Not that their opinions of me mattered in the slightest. If anything, I was relieved by their sincere concern for the elf.

  I don't think I'll have to cut their throats.

  Despite exchanging nothing but non-verbal cues, I seemed to pass their purity test and their judgemental gazes dulled.

  "How'd she end up on the wrong continent? Kalistanish elf poachers?"

  "Like he knows," Wedgmund said. "They probably communicate with pantomimed gestures."

  I'd known her for weeks and I never thought to ask. Christ, all I knew about Viessa was that she is an educated scholar who graduated at the top of her class at some academy. For being the only person I truly trusted, I didn't really know her.

  What does that say about me?

  I'm selfish.

  Check.

  I'm heartless.

  Also check.

  I've been a bit too busy since I got here to have time for any deep chats...

  Excuses, excuses. They were cheap, plentiful, and readily available. Yet, as the elf writhed on the couch, fighting for her life as a blue light glowed out of Oliver's palms encapsulated her body, I couldn't reconcile the possibility of her dying because she chose to save me.

  It was a nasty, unfamiliar feeling. Like someone tossed a sack of bricks on my back. I threw my head back and pressed my palms into my temple.

  "Swear to Galdir she's not your slave."

  "Naila, don't speak any further. None of this is our place. Have you already forgotten he's the sole reason we're not still in that nightmare?" Lexington said.

  I shrugged, taking no offense. "From what I've seen of this country so far, I'm not surprised by your skepticism. If anything, I'm surprised there are any decent people left. You can ask her later."

  I stood up, walking toward the door.

  "Where are you going?" Naila asked.

  "Ordering some hot food for when she wakes up."

  ***

  A smorgasbord of food arrived on multiple trays, which I had the staff leave in front of the door. I had ordered over half the menu on Pearl Banner's tab.

  I hauled the assortment inside the suite, almost expecting a single whiff of a steaming hot plate to bring her back. A blue light was still glowing off Oliver's palms as his hands hovered inches over Viessa's body, back and forth from head to toe.

  I set the plates down on the table, eager for another glass of whiskey only to discover the bottle was empty. An uncomfortable sense of helplessness tugged at my soul. It was like a piece of gravel stuck in my shoe that I couldn't seem to get out.

  Most problems I solved with the simple solution. If it breathes, then stop it from taking breaths. I thought I had prepared myself for Viessa's death.

  So much for that...

  "Water, please," Oliver said as he turned away from Viessa, and sat on the floor.

  I brought him a glass and he grabbed it with shaking hands, only taking a sip.

  "She's stable," Oliver said. "I've never seen a case of mana exhaustion so dire before... Well, I have, but they all died."

  "She's going to live?"

  "Yes. Don't let her cast spells beyond her means again. Recovering from mana exhaustion once is rare. A second incident will kill her. The mana in her blood was quite fragmented. I assume she consumed several mana potions, considering how little natural mana remained within her veins."

  The weight dropped from my shoulders and in an instant I realized I was standing in a room with four others that now knew her secret. Yet, it didn't seem to matter.

  Is this trust? Should I threaten them to stay quiet for safe measure?

  I wasn't sure what the social contract dictated.

  Oliver tilted his head to the side, then laughed. "I barely recognize you without the eyebrows and all the red skin. I treated you a few weeks ago, correct?"

  I nodded. "Looks like I owe you again, but I'm still lacking the funds for repayment."

  "Don't mention it. Physically she'll feel fine, but will need at least a day or two to restore her mana to a natural state."

  "Thank you," I said. "My name's Cyprus, find me in Ingcaster if you ever need anything."

  Oliver smiled and shook my hand. "I'm still awaiting the reckoning you promised when we first met."

  "Do you subscribe to any newsletters?"

  "No."

  "I suggest you start."