Her past

Rockan

I didn’t like the suggestion of bringing in a healer. We still had zero idea of what was wrong with Denera, and things had taken a drastic turn in a matter of minutes.

She lay unconscious, her breath shallow, her face pale. I couldn't bear seeing her like this. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios, and I felt utterly powerless.

Impatiently, I paced back and forth in the hallway outside her room. Every few steps, I would glance at the door, hoping for some miracle. Then minutes stretched into what felt like hours, each one a reminder of how helpless I was.

The problem wasn't just that I didn't trust healers. I had a history with them, a history that had left me scarred in more ways than one.

My face bore a mark that numerous healers had tried and failed to remove. Each failure had only deepened my resentment. Even my mother had lost her life trying to heal me completely. Her death had been the final straw, and I had given up on the hope of ever being whole again.

And then t