Milo nodded slowly. "Yeah... just don’t want to end up back in the hospital."
"You won’t," Karl said firmly, glancing at Kaelan and Adrian. "Not while we’re here."
Adrian flexed his injured arm, wincing but still standing tall. "Let’s go. Before they change their minds."
"Her nails are nails or cutter??" Karl exclaimed, his eyes widening as he finally caught sight of Adrian’s arm. The fabric of Adrian’s robe had hidden the injury until now, but when he winced and rolled up his sleeve to check, the damage was clear. Four deep red gashes cut across his forearm, thin but sharp, like blades had grazed him instead of fingernails.
Karl leaned closer, his face scrunching in alarm. "Gods, it looks painful. That witch didn’t just scratch you—she tried to slice your arm off!" His voice was louder than necessary, drawing stares from Milo and Julian.
Kaelan, who had been walking slightly ahead, stopped and turned, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the wound. He stepped closer, his usual composure tightening into concern. "Maybe we should go to a healer," he said firmly, his gaze flicking from the blood to Adrian’s pale knuckles.
Adrian pulled his arm back slightly, shaking his head. "No, I’m fine." His tone was calm but stubborn, the kind of finality that made it clear he didn’t want to be fussed over.
"Fine??" Karl repeated, his voice rising again. "Your arm looks like it was attacked by a wild cat with knives for claws!" He threw his hands up, then placed them on his hips. "Brother adi, you’re going to end up with infection or worse. Don’t act like some hero right now."
Adrian gave him a faint, dry smile, trying to ease the worry. "I’ve had worse. This is nothing."
Julian, quiet until now, stepped closer and carefully examined the arm without touching it. His brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Brother Karl’s right. It’s not just a scratch... It might get worse if we leave it untreated." His voice was soft, but the worry behind it was heavy.
Milo, holding his shopping bag tightly to his chest, looked between them nervously. His voice wavered. "Please, brother adi... don’t ignore it. You promised you’d take care of yourself... for us." His tone carried a quiet plea, and his big, innocent eyes were enough to make Adrian pause.
Adrian sighed, glancing at Milo, then at Karl’s fiery stare, then at Julian’s calm persistence. He finally looked at Kaelan, who stood with his arms crossed, expression sharp but patient. "You’re all not going to stop, are you?"
"Not until you get it checked," Kaelan said simply.
Adrian exhaled, giving a small chuckle despite the pain. "Fine. We’ll stop by a healer."
Karl immediately let out a relieved huff. "Finally! Someone talks sense. Because if you faint on us, Brother adi, I swear I’ll drag you there myself—even if I have to carry you like a sack of rice."
That made Milo giggle nervously, and even Adrian cracked a small smile. But as he tugged his sleeve back down to cover the wound, Kaelan’s eyes lingered on the bloodstains, his thoughts tightening.
Kaelan didn’t waste a second once Adrian stopped protesting. He guided them down a quieter street, past the busier part of city until they reached a small hut tucked between two small buildings. The walls were worn, herbs hung by the doorway, and a faint smoke curled out of the chimney. Without hesitation, Kaelan pushed the door open, the smell of dried leaves and warm ointments filling the air.
Inside, an old witch sat on a stool beside a fire, her thin fingers working calmly at a strip of cloth. When her sharp eyes lifted and landed on Kaelan, her lips curved into a knowing smile. "Ah. I thought you’d forgotten this place," she said, her tone half amused, half scolding. "So, who’s hurt this time?"
Karl’s brows shot up. He turned on Kaelan at once. "You... you’ve been here before?"
Kaelan’s reply was cool, almost casual. "She’s a healer. I’ve trusted her for years."
The witch pointed to Adrian with her chin. "Sit down. Let me see."
Adrian gave a small sigh but obeyed, pulling back the sleeve of his dark robe. The room grew quiet as the wound was revealed—long, angry gashes across his forearm, the blood staining the skin but mostly hidden until now. Karl leaned forward, his face going pale.
"Brother adi, it’s worse than I thought," he blurted, his voice tight. "How were you just walking around ?"
Adrian gave a faint shrug, though his jaw was clenched from the sting. "I’ve walked with worse."
The old witch dipped a cloth into warm water and began cleaning the wound with steady hands. Adrian hissed at the first touch, his knuckles tightening against his knee, but he didn’t move away. Milo, standing beside Julian, clutched his sleeve with wide, nervous eyes.
"Don’t move," the witch said firmly, dabbing away the blood. "You’ll make it worse if you flinch."
Milo swallowed and whispered, "Is... is he going to be okay?"
The witch’s tone softened slightly. "This will heal." She reached for a jar, scooping out a thick balm and smoothing it carefully over the cuts. Adrian’s breath caught, but he stayed still, Kaelan’s hand pressing reassuringly on his shoulder.
Karl let out a loud sigh, pacing in front of the fire. "Honestly, brother adi, you drive me crazy. You could’ve collapsed and still said you were fine. Do you know how terrifying that is for us?"
Adrian’s lips twitched faintly, a ghost of a smile despite the sting. "You worry too much."
"No, you don’t worry enough!" Karl snapped, before throwing his hands up in frustration.
The witch chuckled under her breath, tying a clean bandage firmly around Adrian’s arm. "You’ve got loyal ones watching over you," she said. "Be grateful, ghost. Not everyone is this lucky."
Adrian nodded, his voice low. "I am."
After Adrian’s wounds were treated and properly wrapped, they thanked the old witch and stepped back out into the cool evening air...
To be continued... 🪄