and the Rise of the Disciple(11) 11: The Miracle of Healing…
and the Rise of the Disciple(11) That mage was…
Elandor.
One of the five sages of the Elven race, and a member of the Council of the Thirteen Mages who had preserved the peace of Aegisor for seventy years.
He was renowned for his serene wisdom and a mastery that made his name synonymous with healing magic across the continent.
He approached Aiden with quiet strides, his eyes never leaving that faint trace that no one but he had noticed.
Stopping before the youth, he offered a gentle smile.
“What is your name?” Aiden raised his head after his bow and answered respectfully: “Aiden…
my Lord.” Elandor gazed at him for a few moments, then asked in a calm voice: “Can you wield magic?” A brief silence fell.
Then Aiden smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
“To be honest…
I am not proficient in any kind of true magic.
All I can perform are very basic spells…
they barely deserve to be called magic.” No expression appeared on Elandor’s face.
Instead, he calmly extended his right hand…
And in a swift motion, ran the sharp edge of his fingernail across his palm.
A thin slash appeared on his skin.
Then, a few drops of blood began to trickle onto the stone floor.
Aiden’s eyes widened.
“My Lord!
Your hand…” Elandor raised his hand, cutting him off.
“Do not worry.” He then extended his wounded palm toward him.
“I want you to do one thing.” Aiden looked at him in confusion.
“Focus your mana inside this wound.” The youth hesitated for a moment.
He did not understand the reason, yet he did not dare disobey one of the Thirteen Mages.
Taking a deep breath…
He slowly closed his eyes.
He began to gather his tranquil mana between his hands, then gently directed it toward the wound, just as he used to do in his simple training exercises, without expecting anything to happen.
Silence reigned.
And for a few seconds…
Nothing happened.
Then…
The wound trembled slightly.
Its edges glowed with a soft white light, akin to the first thread of dawn.
The borders of the skin began to slowly draw closer together…
Then fused.
The wound vanished…
As if it had never existed in the first place.
Aiden froze where he stood.
He stared at Elandor’s hand, unable to believe his eyes.
“Th…
This…” As for Elandor…
His eyes widened for the first time in many years.
He kept staring at his palm, then at the youth standing before him.
There was no longer any trace of the renowned composure upon his face.
Instead, it was utter astonishment.
He whispered in a voice barely audible: “Impossible…” Across thousands of years…
History had never recorded a single human capable of wielding healing magic.
Yet what he witnessed just now…
Was right before his eyes.
Elandor raised his head and looked directly into Aiden’s eyes.
Then, a smile formed on his face, the likes of which no one had ever seen from him.
The smile of a man who realized he was standing before a miracle that would change the world.
And in a firm voice that brooked no hesitation, he said: “From this day forth…
you shall be my disciple.” At that very moment…
Aiden did not know that those simple words…
Would be the beginning of the path leading him to the heart of Aegisor’s greatest secrets.