Morning came.
Eldrin woke to the smell of boiled herbs.
For a few seconds, he didn’t remember where he was.
Then he turned his head.
Zarian was lying on the bed beside him.
Still unconscious.
It was one of the few places in Maria where someone without money could receive treatment.
The Royal Hospital for the Poor.
Eldrin had spent most of the night sitting beside Zarian’s bed.
The doctors had warned him that the blood loss alone should have been enough to kill him.
The wounds weren’t helping.
His shoulder had been pierced.
His leg had been cut deeply.
Several fingers on his right hand had been badly injured.
And his body had already been exhausted before they reached the hospital.
Eldrin looked at the bowl sitting on the bedside table.
"Eat."
Zarian gave him a tired look.
"You’ve become rather troublesome."
Eldrin stayed beside him until the bowl was empty.
When Zarian finally settled back against the pillow, Eldrin leaned against the chair.
"I’m staying until you’re healed."
Zarian watched him for several seconds.
Then he closed his eyes.
"...Fine."
The rest of the day passed slowly.
Zarian slept most of it.
Eldrin remained beside him, leaving only when a nurse came in to change the bandages or check his condition. He barely noticed the meals he was given. His attention kept returning to the bed.
By evening, the doctors had become less optimistic.
One of them examined Zarian’s wounds, checked his pulse, and frowned.
"His condition is unstable."
Eldrin stood immediately.
"What does that mean?"
The doctor glanced toward him.
"It means we don’t know yet."
"You said he was recovering."
"He was."
The doctor pulled the blanket higher over Zarian’s chest.
"Then his fever rose. His blood pressure dropped. We’ve treated what we can."
The doctor gave him a tired look.
Eldrin clenched his jaw.
"Then do more."
"We are doing everything we can, boy."
The doctor wasn’t angry.
That somehow made it worse.
He checked Zarian’s pulse once more before leaving.
"Stay nearby. If anything changes, call us."
Eldrin nodded.
Night settled over the hospital.
The sounds from the courtyard gradually disappeared.
One by one, the lamps along the corridor went dark.
Eldrin sat beside Zarian’s bed.
He watched his breathing.
Slow.
Uneven.
Then slower.
Eldrin’s eyes remained fixed on him.
He had seen people die before.
His mother.
People in Novaryn.
Servants.
Guards.
But those deaths had always felt distant afterward, like something happening behind a wall he couldn’t break through.
This was different.
His fingers tightened around the edge of the chair.
"Don’t die."
The words came quietly.
Eldrin looked down.
The familiar warmth stirred beneath his chest.
He froze.
For several seconds, he simply stared into the darkness.
He remembered what happened with Kaiser.
The Silver Tongue hadn’t forced him to obey.
It had made a possibility feel certain.
A conclusion feel natural.
But could it work on something else?
Could it make someone believe something about themselves?
Eldrin slowly reached for the warmth.
His breathing became shallow.
He looked at Zarian.
You’re going to recover.
The warmth spread.
Stronger than before.
Eldrin swallowed.
He pushed the thought forward.
Not as an order.
Not as a command.
As certainty.
"You’re already getting better."
For a moment...
Nothing happened.
Then Zarian’s breathing changed.
A deeper breath.
Then another.
The tension in his face eased.
Eldrin’s eyes widened.
The warmth inside him suddenly surged.
Pain struck behind his eyes.
His vision blurred.
He grabbed the edge of the bed.
"What..."
His knees weakened.
The room tilted.
Eldrin tried to stay conscious.
He failed.
His body slid from the chair and hit the floor.
And everything went black.
HAAAAAAAHH!!!!
Eldrin opened his eyes to the pale light coming through the window.
For a moment, he didn’t move.
His head throbbed.
He remembered the warmth.
He immediately sat up.
Zarian was still there.
But something was different.
His breathing was steadier.
The color had returned slightly to his face.
Eldrin stared at him.
A doctor entered a moment later, carrying a tray of medicine.
He stopped when he noticed Eldrin was awake.
"You."
Eldrin looked at him.
"How is he?"
The doctor walked to Zarian’s bedside and checked his pulse.
His expression slowly changed.
"That’s strange."
"What?"
The doctor checked again.
Then placed a hand against Zarian’s forehead.
"The fever has gone down."
Eldrin stood.
"He’s better?"
"I’d say so."
The doctor looked at the bandages.
"His wounds are still serious, but his condition has stabilized."
He shook his head.
"Honestly, I didn’t expect him to make it through the night."
Eldrin said nothing.
The doctor looked at him.
"Perhaps someone up there is watching over him."
Eldrin glanced at Zarian.
He knew better.
Or at least...
He thought he did.
Two days passed.
Zarian’s recovery accelerated far faster than the doctors expected.
His wounds were still healing, but his condition was no longer dangerous.
Being a mage had its advantages.
His body recovered considerably faster than an ordinary person’s, and the treatment at the hospital had finally begun to take effect.
By the second evening, Zarian could sit upright without help.
"There is something I want to ask."
Zarian raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds serious."
"My Silver Tongue."
Zarian’s expression became more attentive.
"I want to learn more about it."
"You should."
"Then teach me."
Zarian was silent for a moment.
"I don’t know."
Eldrin frowned.
"You’ve known about it since I was a child."
"Knowing something exists and knowing everything about it are two different things."
He leaned back against the pillow.
"Your ability isn’t something you’ll learn properly from me."
"Then where?"
Zarian looked toward the window.
"Novaryn."
The answer came immediately.
"There’s nowhere else I’d trust to have records on abilities like yours."
Eldrin lowered his eyes.
"Novaryn..."
Zarian nodded.
"If you want answers about the Silver Tongue, that’s where I’d start."
Eldrin remained silent.
Novaryn.
His home.
The place he had spent weeks trying not to think about.
Now he had another reason to return.
But not yet.
First, he needed money.
He needed to buy himself back.
Only then would he be free to choose where he went.
Zarian watched him for a moment.
"You’ve made up your mind."
Eldrin looked at him.
"I’ll go there."
"When?"
"After I’m free."
Zarian smiled faintly.
"Then I suppose I’ll have to wait."
Eldrin stood.
There wasn’t much else to say.
He had spent days beside this man.
For the first time since arriving in Maria, he had something that felt like a direction.
Not a complete one.
But enough.
The following morning, Eldrin left the hospital.
He stopped outside the entrance and looked back once.
Zarian stood by the window on the second floor.
Neither of them waved.
They simply looked at each other.
Then Eldrin turned and walked away.
He had to return to House Korrandis.
He had work waiting for him.
And money to earn.
The road back felt shorter than it should have.
By the time the familiar estate came into view, Eldrin was already thinking about what he needed to do next.
He approached the main gate.
The guards recognized him.
One of them opened the smaller side entrance.
Eldrin stepped forward.
Then stopped.
Something was wrong.
There were more guards than usual.
And beyond the gate...
Several unfamiliar carriages stood inside the estate grounds.
People in formal clothing moved between the buildings.
The entire place felt different.
Busier.
More guarded.
Eldrin frowned.
He had been gone for only a few days.
What had happened?
He stepped through the gate.
And this time, the trouble waiting for him wasn’t coming from outside.
It was already inside.