The church members approached with reverent smiles, their robes glowing faintly as runes beneath their feet flared brighter in response.
One of them, a tall man whose every movement radiated gentle authority, lifted his hand. A beam of golden light enveloped Terry, cascading over him like a waterfall.
Riley's eyes flickered. Even from so far away, he could see the results.
The blood that had caked Terry's skin vanished as wounds sealed in an instant. His clothes, torn and ragged, seemed to shimmer faintly as though even the fabric resisted damage under the holy glow. The fatigue in Terry's shoulders lifted, replaced by vitality and strength.
The murmurs from his group reached Riley's sharpened senses. He focused, narrowing his attention until the words carried to him as clearly as if he stood among them.
"You've fought well and hard…" one of the robed healers said with admiration. "Few could endure such hardship and remain standing."
