Part 1: A Pair of Healing Hands Begets Warmth in the Heart

“Magic therapy is a widely used medical practice. In fact, it’s not just the Realm of the Living that uses it, the Realm of the Dead also uses it. The only difference is that in the former realm, it capitalizes on Life Magic’s healing capabilities.”

—Robin Benz

I stare at Chief Pons warily. ‘Interesting’ could mean several things, good or bad. He could be one of those sadists who get off from watching people slowly suffer. On the other hand, he could be interested in our case and wouldn’t want us to suffer. I deeply hope it’s the second one, mostly for Mirei’s sake. She dearly loves this world and whatever punishment awaits us could end with her never seeing it again.

Chief Pons looks toward his son. “Roo, get these outlanders to the health unit. And yourself, for that matter. Those bruises don’t look painless.”

“Okay, father.” Roo spins his hand, causing the wood Mirei and I are on to rotate one-hundred-eighty degrees. He opens the doors and marches out, taking us with him. We don’t speak until I catch sight of an open door in the hallway. Inside of it are rows of beds.

“Roo, was that the health unit?” I ask.

He keeps walking as he says, “Yes. I’m taking you somewhere else.”

I gulp. Didn’t the Chief of Lade just give him orders? I suppose Roo is also the son of such a powerful person, but…

I can’t help but be terrified. Just where are we being taken?!

Mirei asks just that. Roo waves his hand absently in the air before drawling, “Take a guess.”

“An electric chair,” I blurt. Roo makes a confused noise.

“I don’t know what that is, but I’m pretty sure that’s not our destination.”

“A kitchen! I’m hungry,” Mirei offers.

“No.”

“A dining room!”

“No.”

“A cafeteria!”

“No, I’m not going anywhere to do with food,” Roo says, exasperated. Mirei groans and slouches beside me.

“J-Jail?” I stammer.

Roo gives a low chuckle before turning into another elaborately ornamented hallway. “Perhaps. But not today.”

A breath I don’t realize I’ve been holding releases from my mouth. The relief that washes over me is short lived, though, because Roo stops in front of two large double doors. They’re embellished with two fish heads like the Chief’s door, except instead of green gems inside, there are teal ones. Could this be Roo’s office?

His two index fingers press against the teal gems inside the fishes’ mouths. They glow once before the doors creak open.

I take a sharp inhale. This is not Roo’s office— it’s his bedroom!

Against the wall opposite to us is a queen-sized bed. Black and green curtains twist in hanging loops around the wooden beams above the bed. Just above the silk pillows is an enormous, beautifully detailed painting that depicts a lake and huge fish splashing inside of it. It must be the one that the four Trees of this city surround.

Roo leads us inside. As the doors close gently behind us, my mouth falls open. I marvel at the bright white crystals that fly slowly in the air. They cluster around a high ceiling and a messy desk topped with books, brushes, paint, clothes, and… food. So much food. I can make out a malcina tucked beneath a pair of pants.

Vaguely disgusted, I let my eyes wander elsewhere. They find the walls, adorned with paintings of all shapes and sizes. They’re all of diverse styles and types of paint, depicting anywhere between nature and a group of people, drinks spilling from their glasses and into the sunset sky.

Did Roo paint these? I wonder, breathless. If so, he is one of the most talented artists I’ve ever seen, much less met. Even if he isn’t the artist behind these paintings, I didn’t expect this from him. Perhaps his stern aura gave me the impression that he didn’t care for the fine arts. Then again, Arenah did tell me he wished to perform in the Rooted Xulte Festival of Dance and Song.

Regardless, my attention constantly shifts between little mysterious trinkets and colorful bookshelves that huddle in a corner of the room, close to the desk. I’m so engrossed by everything that I don’t realize it when Roo slides me from the wood to the center of his bed until I sink into swaths of silky blankets. It’s so gentle and careful that I feel no pain. Mirei hops off and onto the bed, but Roo instantly chides her.

“Get back onto the floor. You’re dirty.”

“Brother’s more dirty than me!”

“…”

I swallow and keep my gaze trained on the shimmering ceiling above me, cheeks burning. Roo finally mutters, “He’s on the bed because I need to administer magic therapy. Mirei, your magic is fine, so please get out of the way.”

The bed shifts beneath me and then I hear Mirei’s small steps on the floor. Roo mumbles, “Thank you.”

In the corner of my eye, I see her approach the desk, but I pay her no mind. There’s a beat of silence. I take this chance to ask my burning question: “Why are we in here and not the health unit?”

There’s a loud clanking noise, probably the wood getting tossed to some corner. Roo bends over me, forcing me to look at him. His expression is one of shock. “You want to go there?”

“I mean… didn’t the chief just order that we go there?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Roo says, shoulders relaxing. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Also, the health unit is… how do I say this…”

He shivers, as if thinking about something horrific. The confusion must be evident on my face, for he explains, “The doctors there are absolutely manic. Specifically one: Head Doctor Bert. He’s in charge of the whole unit, so the doctors under him have no choice but to obey what he suggests. And his suggestions are—“

Roo’s grimace deepens even further. I’ve never seen someone’s face so contorted. “Well, all you need to know is that Head Doctor Bert is crazy. He might be the best doctor in the entire Realm of the Living, but I would rather a black market organ seller operate on me.”

Wow. This Bert guy must be some kind of sadist. I’m very grateful that Roo spared us from him, but something other than gratitude warms my chest. Roo still cares enough about us that he would spare us from a lunatic doctor. Maybe he doesn’t hate us after all, I think, realizing that warm feeling might be comfort.

“Enough about that,” Roo declares. He gets onto the bed, shuffles to sit beside me, and folds his legs underneath himself. As he leans over me, the air around us mixes with the smell of flowers. Here, it’s especially strong, because it’s not just coming from the boy in front of me, it’s also coming from the blankets I lay upon.

Somehow, my mind keeps stuttering on the image of Roo exactly where I lay, sleeping peacefully, long hair splayed out like a waterfall on the pillows.

My thoughts screech to a stop when I feel Roo’s palms lay upon my midsection.

“W-What are you doing?!” I stutter, heat crawling up my neck. I’m still shirtless, so I can feel his cold skin on mine. Goosebumps erupt where his fingertips ghost over my stomach.

“Calm down,” He tells me gently. “I’m going to start the process by healing your injuries. Your own Life Magic is incredibly weak as it is, so I must infuse you with my own. You’ll feel a pressure in your lower back, then your ribs, until finally it reaches your shoulder blades.”

My breath comes short and quick. The room feels suffocatingly warm all of a sudden, but not in such a way that it invites panic. In fact, I feel no panic whatsoever. My heart sings with anticipation.

He presses his palms down further, the tips of his sharp fingernails surely leaving ticklish indents in my skin. My eyes squeeze closed.

“What is going on with your skin?” Roo mumbles. My eyes shoot open, expecting the worst. But when I look at my skin, I see nothing.

“I don’t see anything wrong?” I say, brow furrowed.

Roo looks at me and runs a finger down my forearm, elf ear twitching curiously. I have to bite my lips to hold back a squeak.

“What are these… bumps? They pop up after I touch you. And then they spread.”

Instantly, laughter breaches my lips. The whole bed shakes with the force of it, jolting Roo. He looks baffled and fascinated.

“Those are goosebumps!” I choke out between laughs. Oh God, I suppose the skin of people in this world definitely doesn’t work the same!

“‘Goosebumps?’”

“Yes. They’re normal for me. It’s just that…” My words trail away. I’m unsure how to explain how they work to him without sounding weird.

“They pop up when I’m cold,” I eventually say, knowing that the goosebumps aren’t there simply because Roo’s touch is cold. There’s something else, something simmering in my blood and making my heart flutter erratically.

Roo peers closer at my forearm. “How fascinating. I want you to tell me more about this later. But for now, let’s get on with the magic therapy.”

I chuckle nervously, knowing that my face is flaming red.