Marklus reached Crinte just as he lowered himself to the ground. “They stabbed me deep,” Crinte grunted, gritting his teeth as he moved his hand away from the wound.

            “This might hurt,” Marklus advised as he peeled back the tunic to take a look. Blue light surged from his fingers and he placed his hand against Crinte’s skin. Crinte felt the pain intensify before his burning skin was soothed and the muscles and sinews began to pull together, quickly closing the wound. “Thank you,” Crinte breathed as he felt the pain subside.

            Alaireia lethargically limped up as Marklus gave Crinte a hand up. “That was amazing,” Marklus praised her.

   &nb...

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