Chapter 53: When The Healer Needs Medicine
Meanwhile...
—Adventures Guild—
Kael stood in the guild. Around him, adventurers were chattering—some fresh from their quests, others boasting loudly with ale in hand. A few were limping, bandaged, laughing like pain was just part of the job.
He walked past them in silence, wearing his half-worn leather armor and dark pants. Still quiet, as always.
At the big counter in front of him, Celeste stood—head slightly tilted, her auburn hair tied loosely over one shoulder. Strands curled near her cheek. She was giving advice to a pair of new swordsmen, pointing at something on a map with her slender finger. Her hazel eyes—calm and sharp—held a faint softness, like she couldn't help but pity the people she helped.
Kael waited off to the side, hands in his pockets. He didn't rush.
After a few more questions and thanks, the rookies left. Celeste looked up and caught sight of him. Her lips curled into a half-smile.
"Well, isn't it Kael?" she said quietly, like greeting a ghost she saw too often. "Here for a quest today?"
He stepped forward, resting his elbow lightly on the counter. "No. I need some information."
That made her blink. "Information?" she echoed, voice rising slightly in surprise. "Now that's not the Kael I know."
He gave a small shrug, almost a smirk. "Guess people change."
"But why me?" she asked, crossing her arms on the counter and leaning closer, eyes narrowing slightly. "Didn't think you'd come crawling to the front desk for answers."
"Isn't it obvious?" he replied, tone dry. "You've got the best knowledge in the whole town."
Her eyes softened a bit, but the teasing in her voice didn't fade. "Hm… silver tongue today, huh? Alright, what do you want to know?"
He leaned in just a little. "Tell me where I can find a cleric."
Celeste blinked. Then slowly, her expression shifted—lips twitching, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.
"Pfft…" A laugh slipped out before she could hold it back. "Are you for real?" she said, covering her mouth. "You're actually here to ask where a cleric is?"
Kael didn't respond. Just looked at her. Calm.
She shook her head, still chuckling. "Gods, Kael. You've been living in this city for, what, three years now? Don't tell me you still don't know something that basic."
"I never needed one before," he said simply. "Didn't bother to learn what I didn't use."
Celeste sighed. "You really are hopeless," she murmured, but there was a strange gentleness in the way she said it. Almost fond. Her eyes lingered on him longer than necessary, and Kael noticed.
"What?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. Just thinking it's kind of sad, is all. You've been here so long, and yet…" Her voice trailed off. "I guess not needing help doesn't mean you don't need people."
Kael looked away. "Stop talking like that."
"Oh?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "So, why now? Are you sick or something?"
"Yeah," he muttered. "Something like that."
There was a pause. Celeste studied him—really looked this time. Then nodded slowly, brushing a strand of auburn hair back.
"Alright," she said. "Go to the Northern District. You remember the merchant's house? Silver Crest Company's owner?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Then maybe you remember—before reaching his house, there's a fork in the road with three paths. Take the one on the opposite side. And don't turn at the baker's corner—just keep following the path straight. At the very end, there's a small house with a wooden charm hanging over the door. That's her place."
"Her?" he asked. "So she's a woman?"
Celeste grinned. "Yeah. But don't get your hopes up—she's old. And grumpy."
Kael gave the faintest nod. "Doesn't matter. Thanks."
Celeste tilted her head, her voice quieter now. "You sure you're alright?"
He paused, then turned away. "I'm fine."
And with that, he walked off, his figure quickly swallowed by the bustling crowd of the guild.
---
Meanwhile...
—Knight Orders Office—
Aldren straightened, about to salute Seraphina again, when another knock sounded at the door.
Seraphina didn't flinch.
"Enter," Seraphina said, her voice level, yet firm.
The door opened quietly, and Lyra stepped inside. She gave a polite nod toward Aldren, who returned it with equal formality—a small but respectful gesture, customary between knights of equal rank.
Seraphina noticed, but said nothing.
"Aldren," Lyra said, stepping further in. "Don't leave just yet."
Aldren arched a brow, pausing in place. "Something wrong, Lyra?"
Lyra nodded slightly, her voice lower now, eyes briefly shifting toward Seraphina before she spoke.
"Yes… another murder occurred."
Seraphina, who had already begun to turn her attention back to the parchment before her, lifted her gaze. "When?"
"Last night," Lyra replied. "Around midnight, we believe."
Aldren's expression darkened, though he kept his posture steady. "Another one?" he asked.
Lyra gave a grim nod. "Yes. This time, it happened in the Northern District. Victim was a young woman, ordinary civilian. No known affiliation with any guild or order. She was found in her home… throat slit. No sign of struggle. No forced entry. No items stolen. It was clean. Precise. Lieutenant Arwyn is currently overseeing the case."
Seraphina's fingers stopped moving. She leaned slightly back in her chair, folding her hands before her. "The same as the S-Rank adventurer, then."
"Too similar to be a coincidence, ma'am," Lyra said.
Aldren added, "If it's the same killer… or killers… they're not just skilled—they're methodical. And bold. Killing again so soon, and without leaving a trace, suggests confidence. Or perhaps… something more coordinated."
"They want us to know," Seraphina murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "Or at least, they don't care if we do."
Silence lingered for a moment in the room, heavy but thoughtful.
Seraphina pressed her gloved palms together, but her gaze had shifted—there was something different in her eyes.
"I considered the possibility of this being the work of more than one person," she said coldly. "It felt too clean. Too deliberate. But I didn't expect a second body so soon. Whoever they are… they're not buying time. They're accelerating."
A pause.
"Aldren," she said, reaching for a sealed parchment on her desk and signing it with swift precision. "Take over this case from Lieutenant Arwyn. The similarities are too direct to treat them as separate incidents. Use her notes, her team if needed. Tell her it's an order from me."
Aldren stepped forward and took the parchment without hesitation. "Understood, Captain. I'll start with the crime scene, then compare both victims backgrounds for overlap. If it's a group, they'll slip eventually. I'll make sure we catch that moment."
"If you need more soldiers, request them," she said. "Discreetly. The last thing I want is panic spreading through the district. Keep this quiet for now."
"Yes, ma'am."
With that, Aldren turned and exited, the parchment tucked securely under his arm.
Once the door closed behind him, Seraphina turned back to Lyra. Her voice was steady.
"Has anyone reported anything about the man with black hair and crimson eyes?"
she asked.
Lyra shook her head. "None, ma'am."
Seraphina gave a slow nod. "I see. Then we'll wait a few more days and see if anything turns up. Is there anything else I should know?"
Lyra straightened, her tone shifting to something more official. "Yes, ma'am. We've prepared the Audience Chamber as you requested. The Duke and the Guildmaster have also confirmed their attendance."
Seraphina gave a single nod, her mind already turning toward the next set of tasks.
"Good. Make sure refreshments are modest. The Guildmaster has no taste for excess, and the Duke detests waste. As for the Warden General... nothing too sweet. He claims sugar clouds the mind, but really, he just likes everything bitter—like him." A pause, cold. "Keep the flavors balanced. Mild. Nothing indulgent, nothing showy. Ask the chef to keep it simple and sharp."
"I'll see to it personally," Lyra said.
Then Seraphina's hand hovered briefly over the map of the cities pinned to the desk.
"Lyra," she said, not looking up. "If the pattern holds… there may be another body before the week ends. Make sure our patrols near the outer districts remain alert. I don't want to find out about the third murder after it's already cleaned up."
Lyra gave a short bow. "Understood, Captain."
Then Lyra left as well. Once she was gone, Seraphina sat at her desk with a troubled expression. "We haven't even identified the S-Rank adventurer killers yet, and already another murder has occurred. Is this part of a larger plan to destroy the peace in Velhart? If this continues and we take too long to catch the culprits, the civilians will start losing trust in us—and I won't let that happen."
---
Meanwhile...
Kael stood in front of the small house, his boots silent against the soft dirt path that led to the wooden doorstep. It wasn't large—two stories, modest, maybe even a little run-down at first glance—but something about it felt different. Calmer. Lived-in.
Around the front yard, a variety of small herbal plants sprouted in mismatched pots and stone borders. Their mixed scents wafted through the air—mint, thyme, and something sharp he couldn't name. The smell made his nose twitch.
He muttered to himself, "Celeste talked about this house, right? Never thought someone like me... a healer... would end up needing a cleric's help." He placed a hand over his temple as the faint memory of the pain pulsed behind his eyes.
With a short breath, he raised his fist and knocked. Moments passed. Then the door creaked open.
An old woman appeared in front of him. She wasn't as old as Celeste had claimed—perhaps in her early forties. Her auburn-grey hair was tied into two thick braids that fell over both shoulders, and her soft hazel eyes—sharply observant, almost foxlike, with fine lines beneath them that spoke of age—rested on him with the gentle warmth of someone who had seen much and judged little.
"Is there something you need, young man?" Her voice was kind—seasoned with years, steady and familiar, like someone who'd spent a lifetime knowing just what to say.
Kael straightened a little. "Yes, are you... perhaps a cleric?"
She blinked once, then chuckled. "That I am. Most people just call me Maeren. Are you here for herbal medicine, then? Or... something more spiritual?"
He hesitated. "Something like that."
"Well then," she said, stepping aside with a light gesture, "do come in."
Kael nodded his thanks and stepped inside. The door shut gently behind him.
The inside was surprisingly well-kept. From the outside, it looked like an run-down house, but the interior told a different story. Clean wooden floors stretched across the room, accented by a few hand-woven rugs. A warm glow from crystal lanterns bathed the space in a gentle light. At the far end stood a long desk, backed by wooden shelves neatly lined with jars, dried herbs, and small vials. Beside the desk was an open wooden window. A narrow staircase on the left wall led up to the second floor.
Kael took a seat by the desk. His eyes trailed the shelves, and he muttered, "Doesn't look like the kind of place someone forgets to clean…"
Maeren settled behind the desk slowly. "It's rare to see adventurers here. Most rely too much on healing these days. What brings you to my door?"
Kael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I've been getting these headaches— not the normal kind. They hit out of nowhere, usually when I'm walking. It feels like… pressure. Like something heavy slamming into my head. My vision goes blurry for a few seconds every time. I've tried healing magic, but nothing helps."
Maeren narrowed her eyes slightly, nodding along. "Interesting… and worrying." She stood and came closer, her footsteps light. "Let me take a look."
Kael didn't flinch as she reached out, her touch gentle, lifting his chin with steady, deliberate fingers. To him, her touch felt both cold and warm at once as her fingertips brushed his cheeks. Slowly, almost instinctively, his eyes opened wider beneath her guiding touch. She paused, then leaned in, studying his eyes with quiet intensity.
"Hmm… pupils look normal," she murmured.
Then, with careful movements, she placed her palm on his forehead. After a brief pause, she turned her hand over, letting the back of it rest gently against his skin. At first, her touch was cold—like a trace of winter frost—but it didn't stay that way. Heat pulsed beneath his skin, unnatural and sharp, quickly warming her fingers. Her eyes widened, just slightly.
"Young man, your body's burning up," she whispered, stepping back slowly. "You've got a heavy fever."
Kael blinked. "Fever? But I don't feel—" He lifted a hand and pressed his fingers to his forehead. The heat met him instantly—sharp and unexpected. "You're right. I... didn't even notice."
She watched him quietly for a few seconds, then gave him a small, pitying smile. "You must be pushing yourself hard. Too hard. Even your own body can't get your attention anymore, hm? Typical adventurer."
Kael didn't reply. He just lowered his hand and let out a short breath.
"So?" he asked. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"
Maeren returned to her desk, fingers drumming softly. "Not completely. What you described—it might be mana exhaustion... or mana overload. But your symptoms don't quite fit either." Her soft hazel eyes flicked up. "Still, a fever like that is telling. Something's not right deep inside."
Kael frowned. "But if it was mana-related... wouldn't my healing magic be affected?"
"You're absolutely right," she nodded, impressed.
Kael raised one hand. A green light formed at his palm—clear and pure.
"I can still use magic just fine."
"Then it's not burnout," Maeren muttered, eyes narrowing. "Or if it is, it's something more complex. Beyond simple exhaustion. Something I haven't come across before."
She stood again, walking to a nearby shelf and picking out three small bottles filled with differently colored liquids. She brought them to the table and placed them in front of him carefully.
"Drink these. One each morning. They're mixed to stabilize internal mana flow and cool inflammation. If nothing else, they'll help your body recover a bit."
Kael reached into his pocket, took out a pouch, and placed it on the table.
Maeren took them gently, then looked at him again—longer this time.
"There's something strange about you," she said, quietly.
Kael raised an eyebrow. "You think so."
"Yes, but not in a bad way," she smiled softly. "Just... you remind me of someone I once knew. Always trying to carry everything alone, until it broke them."
Kael gave a small smile, almost tired. "I'm not planning on breaking anytime soon."
"I hope not." She turned to return to her desk. "Take care of yourself, Kael."
He didn't mind. He pocketed the bottles and turned to leave, his boots clicking softly against the wood. At the door, he glanced back.
"Thank you, Maeren—or should I call you Celeste's mother?" he asked. He remembered the first time he saw her. The same auburn hair, though hers carried a grayish tone, likely from age. The same sharp hazel eyes. Even their hairstyles were similar—Celeste had worn hers tied over one shoulder, while this woman had let hers fall over both.
"No need for that. Maeren is just fine. But you've got quite the sharp eye—I'll give you that. I suppose most adventurers do," she said with a smile, already focused on her herbs again.
"You're right. Well, see you later." Kael opened the door and stepped outside, the quiet click of it closing behind him.
As soon as he left, Maeren quietly returned to her desk, settling into the chair with a soft exhale. Her fingers brushed lightly across the worn wood, as if grounding herself in the moment.
"He's… young," she thought, her gaze lingering on the door that had just closed behind him. "Just as Celeste described. But there's more to him than that."
Her eyes drifted to the faint steam rising from the teacup beside her, untouched and cooling.
"That stillness in his eyes... the way he carries himself—it's not something boys his age usually have. Cool, yes, but not cold. Composed, but not empty. There's something beneath it all. Something he's trying very hard not to show."
She let out a quiet sigh, almost a whisper to the empty room. "You've seen more than you should have, haven't you?"
A trace of sorrow touched her expression, just for a moment, before she tucked it away.
Meanwhile, outside, Kael let out a long breath as he stepped into the open air.
"Phew…" he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess sometimes my guessing isn't all that bad."
He glanced over his shoulder, as if half-expecting someone to be watching, then chuckled to himself.
"I mean, I had a whole list: her aunt? Sister? Some kind of mentor maybe. Heck, I even considered grandmother for a second," he said, chuckling again. "Who would've thought I'd get it right on the first try? Turns out, it's her mother. Nailed it."
He paused at the edge of the path, glancing back at the house.
"She's got the same calm presence… the same eyes, too. Celeste hides hers behind a little fire, but it's the same way of looking at you."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, the edge of a grin playing on his lips as he walked off down the path.
"Yeah… that was her mom, alright."
With a small shrug, he turned away and began walking down the path again, his steps lighter now.
---
(Chapter Ended)