Death Healer

Hadrian stared at Lily for what felt like an eternity. The silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the quiet rustling of the cape she wore. He yawned deliberately, scratching his unkempt beard, his disinterest evident. "Do you even understand what you're saying?" he grumbled. "I'm ready to die. That’s a heavy statement, you idiotic child."

Lily took a deep breath, adjusting her robes with a determined stare. "I've thought it through. Teach me, or I'll take matters into my own hands. I've learned enough of the meditation process from Marcus to do it by myself. I’m here just because I don’t wish to die—I’m simply ready for it if that’s what it takes."

Hadrian scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "You think you can master it just like that? On your own? I must have slept for long because I don’t remember getting a concussion big enough to believe you."

She stepped closer, her voice low but unwavering. "I've already acquired a Lost Skill, Brother Hadrian. I might have lost my Light Magic, but I'm not lacking in understanding about how a stupid skill works. Marcus might have glossed over the complexities, but I'm not an idiot."

Hadrian's eyes narrowed, studying her. "You're just as infuriating as your father was at your age," he muttered. "Maybe even more. But," he sighed, begrudging respect in his eyes, "I can't deny that both of you share an annoyingly persistent intellect."

Lily’s eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and satisfaction, and her lips curved into a smirk.

With a huff, Lily entered Hadrian's quarters, her nose wrinkling at the chaos within. Books, scrolls, and various trinkets lay scattered everywhere. She turned to face the [Monk] once more. "I refuse to live a life of captivity. I would rather face whatever is inside me, even if it means death. I have no intention of being a prisoner here."

Hadrian looked at her, his face a mask of mixed emotions—anger, annoyance, and a hint of... He took a deep breath while his fingers drummed on the wooden frame of the door. "You might just be the most stubborn little girl I've ever seen. Fine. I'll help you."

Lily's eyes widened in surprise, not expecting the sudden agreement. "Really?"

Hadrian groaned, rubbing his temples. "Yes, really."

She nodded, a determined fire glinting in her eyes. "I understand. Let's begin."

...

Dust motes floated through the air, disturbed by Lily's every movement. She curiously scanned the haphazard piles of books and scrolls when a particular set caught her attention.

Lily reached out and picked up a black scroll with stark white ink. The bold, ornate lettering seemed to glow in the low light. She read out the title, "The Four Forms of Death."

Hadrian's head whipped back with alarming speed, his expression one of sheer horror. "How, in all burning books’ names, can you read that?!" He took two hurried strides and snatched the scroll from her hands. The suddenness of his reaction and the obvious fear in his eyes startled Lily.

She raised an eyebrow, smiling cattily, "I just read the title; there’s no need to get upset."

The skill she had gotten the day she had been brought into this new world, Iladia, had, once again, come in handy.

Hadrian shot her a wary look. "No one should be able to read it unless they've been specifically taught the language. Which means..."

"Means what?" she pressed.

"That there's even more to you than we initially thought," Hadrian replied with a sigh.

He stared at Lily, his gaze deep and searching. "You think this is a game?" he asked, his voice low. "You think you can just demand things, and they'll be handed to you on a silver platter?"

Lily clenched her fists. "I told you, Hadrian. I'm not playing games. I need my Light Magic. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get it back."

“Well, it’s not going to be easy.”

Lily was about to snap back, wound up like a coil from all that had happened, but Hadrian raised a hand, forestalling her outburst. "Wait," he said, his voice softer now. "I have a condition."

She eyed him warily, waiting.

"If you think you can meditate on your own and regain your Light Magic, you're mistaken," he began. "Even if you remembered what Marcus had taught you, attempting to meditate alone would be fatal. You are facing no ordinary problems, and without proper guidance, you will not survive the process."

Lily swallowed, her throat drier than she would like to admit. "So, what do you suggest?"

Hadrian's gaze never wavered. "I can teach you a method, one that might dramatically improve your chances of both surviving the meditation and understanding the source of the imbalance within you. But," he said, drawing out the word, "you need to prove to me that you're truly ready."

She straightened her posture. "Tell me what I need to do."

Hadrian took a deep breath, his gaze still unyielding. "A little test."

Lily didn't hesitate. "I accept."

“I haven’t said what the test is yet.”

“I accept.”

Hadrian smirked, crossing his arms as he sized Lily up. "Very well," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Let’s play a little game of knowledge. Prove to me that in at least one domain, you know more than me."

"And how do you propose I prove such a thing?" Lily inquired, raising a brow.

Hadrian produced a shimmering stone from his robes, its core pulsating with an iridescent light. "This," he began, a proud glint in his eyes, "is the Knowledge Stone. An enchanted artifact – it will ascertain which one of us is more knowledgeable in a chosen domain."

Lily stared at the stone, intrigued. "And what if I do prove that I know more than you?"

The [Monk] sneered. "Then, as promised, I'll instruct you in the art of [Meditation]—as much as I personally can. But mind you, I've been around for a while, little girl, gathering knowledge from all corners of Iladia. I highly doubt a child like you stands a chance."

Determined, Lily locked eyes with Hadrian. "Medicine."

He laughed, the sound echoing through his quarters. "Really? Do you genuinely believe that the basic teachings you received in the Citadel can rival my long years of learning and experience?"

Without answering, Lily simply gestured for him to proceed.

Hadrian cleared a small space on his cluttered table by tossing more scrolls onto his bed. He placed the Knowledge Stone in the center and motioned for Lily to place her hand atop it. She complied, her fingers just grazing the stone's surface. Hadrian then placed his hand over it, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"By the ageless laws of Iladia," Hadrian began, his voice taking on a ceremonial tone, "let it be known who possesses the profoundest knowledge of...medicine."

The Knowledge Stone started to glow brighter, its core sending waves of colors through their joined hands. Hadrian's confident smile slowly faded as the stone's pulsation became more vigorous. With a sudden jolt, the stone repelled Hadrian's hand, sending him stumbling backward.

Silence enveloped the room. Hadrian stared at the stone and then at his own hand in utter disbelief.

Lily, trying to hide her satisfaction, leaned in with a playful tone. "It seems the Citadel's teachings weren't so pitiful after all."

Hadrian huffed, straightening himself and brushing off imaginary dust from his robe. "The stone must be faulty."

He locked eyes with Lily – his expression turned more serious, but he was completely cherry-red in the face. Hadrian tried to retain a semblance of his pride. "Alright, alright," he managed to get out, swallowing hard. "Another topic then."

"Biology," Lily said promptly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

Hadrian raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by her audacity. "Biology? Really? You believe your fledgling lessons can outshine the wisdom I have gained from the countless sources throughout Iladia?"

Lily simply met his gaze with a glint in her pupils. "Only one way to find out."

Sighing, Hadrian carefully cleared a different section of the cluttered table, moving scrolls and artefacts to make space. Once again, the Knowledge Stone was positioned prominently in the center. He looked at Lily, a challenge evident in his eyes, and gestured at the stone.

Without hesitation, she placed her hand upon the gleaming artifact, her fingers caressing its cool surface. Hadrian then slowly put his own hand over the stone, allowing their fingers to touch lightly.

"In the name of Iladia's vast wisdom," he intoned, the deep timbre of his voice adding gravity to the ritual, "let the Knowledge Stone reveal who holds the deeper understanding of...biology."

As the stone came to life, its radiant glow pulsating, the colors began to dance in mesmerizing patterns. The quiet intensity of the room grew palpable, with both participants focusing all their concentration on the stone. The energy seemed to intensify, and just as before, a sudden jolt emanated from the stone. Hadrian was repelled with force, nearly knocking over a stack of books as he tried to regain his balance.

Attempting to hold her laugh in, Lily said, "How about botany?"

Not much later, another jolt sent Hadrian backward.

"Physics?"

Yet again, Hadrian found himself retreating from the stone, his cheeks a darker shade of crimson.

"Astronomy?"

This time, Hadrian didn't even have time to finish the formula before being repelled. He caught himself on the table, spilling a few trinkets to the floor.

Each time he was thrown back, his face seemed to contort further, moving from annoyance to disbelief and then inching towards pure terror. At this point, his face bore the expression of a man who had seen a ghost—or, in this case, a prodigious child.

With a smirk, Lily folded her arms. "Is there anything else you'd like to test, or are we done with this?"

Hadrian eyed her warily, the Knowledge Stone now a symbol of his recurring embarrassment. "Why... How?" he stammered.

“Why do you carry such an artifact anyway?" Lily asked, curious.

The [Monk] sighed, looking down at the stone with a hint of anger and frustration. He was silent for a long moment before he looked up, meeting Lily's gaze. "Some things are not meant to be discussed," he replied, skirting her question.

Lily rolled her eyes, unimpressed by the evasion.

"Fine, keep your secrets. When do we start my lessons?"

With a chuckle and seemingly having reclaimed some of his dignity, Hadrian answered, "Immediately."