1.2

Declan led John to the end of his house, where the backyard was. John was greeted by splatters of crimson as he set foot on the ground. Bits and pieces of flesh could been seen floating on a pool of blood.

Following the position which the flesh was scattered from, a bleeding elf with a missing arm leaned against a tree.

“Big brother! I have brought him here! Just hang in there!” Declan rushed to the bleeding elf’s side and brought his hands to his brother’s face to get his attention.

Blood still leaked from the palm that the elf had on his stump, although Declan’s brother did right by applying pressure on it, it was not enough to stop the excessive bleeding.

The liters of warm blood soaked through the clothes and leather armor that Declan was wearing as he continued to wake his brother up. He was so utterly devoted in maintaining the waning conscious of his brother that he did not notice it.

“Declan, move aside and get his arm to me now.” John spoke to Declan calmly, doing his best to not let the musty iron smell from distracting his objective.

“Don’t you see he is losing consciousness!? Do that! Your—”

“I can do my healing on him without your help if you want but regrowing lost limbs will bring tremendous pain to him. Reattaching one needs certain concentration and I can’t do it unless you help me. So, bring his arm so I can stop the bleeding already.”

“I-I… Fine,” a grim expression spread across Declan’s face as he moved away from his brother.

Declan walked a few meters away from where his brother laid picked up the amputated arm that no longer had any life to it. The color was completely drained from the cleaved limb, leaving only the paleness of chalk to the complexion of the skin.

“Align the arm to his stump and remain still.”

John placed his hand on the bleeding elf, made specifically sure that his palm extended over the severed ends of the stump and arm.

“[Heal].”

When the very words parted his lips, John’s arm glowed in a beautiful-blue. The ethereal aura that he was so used to appeared, as if it had a mind of its own, it moved to fill in the gaps formed by the stump and the limb.

Slowly, right in front of Declan’s eyes, bones started to grow from the stump and the limb, joining with the other as am increasing number of flesh started to do the same. The reconstruction process of his brother left the elf’s mouth agape.

Such powerful magic that was produced by a simple chant from John, he had heard of it, and seen John using it from afar, but when it happened in front of his eyes, he understood why many of the elves who first distanced themselves from John when he first arrived eventually warmed up to him.

It made the magic that Declan took years to perfect look trifling in comparison. The elf gritted his teeth as he helplessly perplexed at the sight in front of him. Declan hated to admit it, but there is a good reason that John was known as the ‘Healer of A’vetheas’.

John let out a long breath when the skin to the arm was completely fused together and that there was no scarring to be seen.

When John was done, Declan carried his brother into the house without a word.

John had unconsciously paused his breathing while he was focusing on using his spell on Declan’s brother. Compared to the times that he used [Heal] on restoring other elves’ body parts, this one unnerved him more.

In the backyard that he was in, there was no signs of anything that resembled a weapon that could be used to sever an arm clean off. Having witnessed Declan’s peculiar behavior and the elf’s reluctance to fetch the the severed limb, there was only one conclusion:

Declan had used a spell that harnessed his mana into a weapon with high slicing capabilities and had hurt his brother by accident.

John’s body straightened when Declan who returned spoke.

“Your magic saved him. I am grateful for that. However…I still hate your guts, Sarvod.”

He stood in front John, directed his clear green eyes to meet at the guy who saved his brother not only from blood loss but a complete restoration of his amputated arm.

Declan then extended his hand to John.

“Yours isn’t half bad either... Thankfully his arm was sliced cleanly, I imagine the restoration process would be harder if it wasn’t so,” John commented as he shook hands with the elf.

“I was trying to show my brother my perfected magic... Who knew that I would slice his arm in the process, I was too excited and… I bet you figured that part out too.”

John who had never seen the proud, spiteful Declan acted this way stayed silent for a good moment. Then, his curiosity got the best of him and John asked, “Do you mind showing me what it is, that magic you used to slice his arm off?”

“You’re very annoying, Sarvod. But sure.”

Declan raised his right hand to chest level, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Eternal light that guides the elves, take form, [Glaive of Light].”

From the center of his palm, light appeared then expanded vertically, with each length the light gained, the details on the conjecture increased, condensed, finally, they took form of the physical weapon that glimmered with color of gold.

“Woah… I wish I could do this too...” John gasped.

Although he was capable of [Heal], a spell capable only to the legendary figureheads of old, John never failed to be amazed at the prowess and creativity that others had for their spells.

John had never successfully casted anything other than [Heal]. The court mages assessed so, his many failed attempts to learn magic other than the one that he knew was proof of that.

It was as if his potential was robbed from him.

Surely, if he was proficient in one of the rarer spells and exerted great control in it—even more so than Queen Veissa who was only able to cast it for a split second—there was no reason for him be incapable of the other magical spells.

He felt the potential inside him, if he could somehow bring himself to overcome that obstacle point, there was no telling he can’t learn other spells too. Being the user of the noble [Heal] was not enough, John wanted more…he wanted to conquer his flow of mana, he wanted them to do anything he pleased.

Alas, it was all just wishful thinking on his part.

“Hey, could you show me how you unleashed that powerful blow from earlier?”

Under his excitement to see Declan’s abilities, John slipped out words that were better off without speaking.

Crap!

The hairs on his body all stood up, guts churned when he caught the grim scorn from the elf, his body reacted and moved one side before he could realize what was happening.

The glaive on the elf’s hands flickered.

Slash.

A gleam of light in traveled in the shape of an arc flew past John’s ear by bare centimeters. Before he knew it, a hard gust of wind from the arc of light’s trajectory grazed his cheek, if it weren’t for his acute awareness, Declan’s attack would have scarred his face.

“What gives?” John’s became hostile, “If you aren’t willing to show me, just say so! There was no need to slash my face to show off your prowess!”

“What do you know about me, Sarvod!? Prowess? You, of all people wish to do this? Don’t even joke about it! You have no idea how long I have spent perfecting this technique of mine!”

“No… I was just curious—”

“And the very moment I to show it off to my brother, I failed to control it, I end up taking his arm! You, who has everything, would never understand me! The queen and Princess are always there to pick up after you, a mere human. Just because you have the ability to heal everything...”

“Even if I wanted to do more I couldn’t, [Heal] is all I have, I would rather trade with you if it meant I can use other spells—”

“[Rush of Glory].”

The chant from Declan was fast, faster than John had expected the elf was capable of. A fist of brilliant gold flew at his face as he blinked.

Crack.

The distinct sound played the moment the fist made contact with his jaw.

“[H-heal].”

The moment his dislocated jaw hit the cold ground, deep-sky-blue aura surrounded him, numbed the pain away and fixed his jaw. John kept his eye on the elf as he quickly got to his feet.

There was no telling what this elf would do to him if he got careless.

If not for John’s reflex in casting his spell under his breath, that blow could have serious damage on his wellbeing. Raina’s insistence of hammering in this habit of quick casting on him, made all the time he considered ‘wasted’ worth it.

“Trade with me? You took a punch from me head on and were left with no injuries. Not even the properties of temporary blinding in my spell could take effect on you. Ha… Your spell could even make the gods jealous.”

“You ungrateful bastard. Can’t beat me in basic self-defense class and so you resort to cheap methods, pathetic.”

“Get lost human. You think you can integrate with the elves just because our queen said so? One day you’ll show your true nature and even the Princess won’t be able to look you in the eye then.”

Dusting the dirt off his coat, John made to leave without bothering to fight back. It was meaningless, he already knew the results if he went at the elf seriously. He would win, then Declan would use the incident and ruin his image like when they were younger.

Now that he was in his adulthood, such an accusation from Declan would do irreparable damages to his credibility compared to the meager ones the past.

“Don’t expect me to ever do anything for you.”

Those very words repeated in his head over and over as he frowned at himself for ever trying to get along with Declan. He should’ve known better.