Chapter 2: Healing or Drowning

The spray of salt and iron assaulted his nose. Jun clamped his mouth down, refusing the growing bile. The roar of fire deafened his ears, the smoke stinging his eyes, his rain drenched clothes clung to him. The ice gave way to wood. Jun looked back as Mei slid to a stop. Her eyes widening as she pulled on him, a flash of fire licking the place he had been standing. The explosion had rocked the top of the ship. The lower half had survived, creating this precarious island.

Solara yelped, holding her staff high.

A groan and then pleas for help emerged. Jin’s eyes widened as Mei whistled and Kasai members appeared. With pinpoint accuracy, Mei guided them to the living.

The call was quick. Jun felt the bile grow again as he saw the charred blood.

He shook his head. He had seen worse. He felt it. Yet why wouldn’t the memories come?

As he forced himself to move, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. His eyes stared into the dull gray sea of Amalie’s gaze.

“Don’t hold back this time.”

Her words made him still. Of course she knew. She had told him to avoid standing out.

“Are you sure?”

“Could you heal them all if you did?”

Jun shook his head. He didn’t know his strength, but he was keenly aware of his limitations. Having to hold back his abilities would make this rescue superficial. And that would not be acceptable.

Amalie smirked as she moved, following Mei’s direction and pulling the fires away from the injured, the power of a White Flame at her fingers.

Solara brushed her hand against his. Their eyes met and her chin indicated to their first patients. Jun instinctively grabbed his useless right wrist, as he circulated his prayer, the words running in his mind. Keep them safe, guide the healing, help him remember what to do. These sorts of prayers repeated as he went from one to the next.

Before, he would have limited his output at blue, a high rank of prayer level, but now, he fully engaged his white prayer potential. His long brown hair changed white, blue bangs standing in contrast and flicking at his eyes. The high pony tail the only reason it stayed out of his work.

As he healed them, people stared, reminding him of the other time this had happened. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. That time had also been on a boat on a storm tossed sea, except this time the elements fought against them.

Jun focused as Mei came near, her presence calming and sure. He took a deep breath and then returned to his work.

The mechanical marvel of the steady ship remained functional, but without the walls, the waves crashed on them. Fighting fire and water, they rescued the living, though the dead count rose. Mei’s eyes scanned the sea, the walls of flame, and the deck below. Amalie’s commands were simple. The least injured would be assisted to shore where other healers were gathering. The critical injuries would be handled by Jun and Solara.

Jun pulled on his right hand, moving to a new patient. Blood stains on their right side made his brows knit. As he circulated his prayer into the patient and began to sense the injuries he bit on his lip. Broken ribs, a punctured lung, this person was on death’s door. Jun shook his head, refusing to give up.

He concentrated on the way the body was responding, the lung shrinking as it air escaped into the body, expanding as more air was brought in. The patient’s neck was tight, his hand shifting to his chest as he gasped for air. Jun’s lips pressed into a thin line. He could burn away the air, though he needed to keep it precise. The rib needed to be set and moved as well so they could restore the lung wall. There were too many things to control.

“Solara!” Jun called. She looked up, eyes wide. Her staff glowed briefly as an apparition appeared, a slim older woman came to his side.

“What is it?” the apparition, Serena asked.

“I need help. A punctured lung.” Short and curt. Serena conveyed the request and Solara dropped what she was doing.

“I… how can I help?” Jun conveyed his idea and her eyes danced as she listened. “I’ll restore the lung.” Her answer was simple but it was one less thing to worry about. The two set to work. Jun warmed the bone, making it malleable. He pushed on it and used the prayer to shift it back. While Solara healed the puncture, Jun focused on burning off the trapped air.

The rain and waves disappeared from his perception as he lost himself in the work. The prayer circulated and Jun licked at his lips, the salt reminding him of where they were—out at sea. As the pressure lessened, the patient’s face calmed, his breathing deepened. Solara sighed in relief, rubbing at her forehead and pushing aside the rain soaked hairs. Jun let her leave. She wouldn’t understand this next part. He searched the cells, finding the pathogens that had snuck inside, burning them off one by one. The last thing this young man needed was some illness in this archaic world.

As the calm set in, the storm gained his attention. The waves crashed around them. The young man clutched at where the wound was and thanked him. Jun mumbled an acknowledgment before a Kasai member encouraged them to keep moving. The rescue wasn’t over.

“Jun!” a voice called. His eyes scanned the fires, then the edge of the ship. In the water, grasping the side of the boat was Zain, the young man who he believed was his son from his former life, and the man who stayed by Elain’s side. He wasn’t surprised to see him here, seeing as Elain was the one who crafted the ice bridge, but he jolted to him all the same.

In Zain’s arm, he pulled along a young girl, eyes closed, and face turning pale, drenched and limp. Jun reached out with his left hand and helped pull them aboard. As they pulled her up, he noted the sea water spilling from her lips. She was drowning.