Inside stretched a long corridor of pale brick, leading toward a staircase at the far end. At the entrance sat a small counter, where a young woman waited, looking lost in thought. Her small foxlike ears twitched back and forth as she hummed what sounded like a song.

  Alynia stepped up to the counter, pulling the young woman out of her reverie.

  “Hello, I’d like level-three treatment for two people, please,” she asked.

  “Oh, hello! Of course. Please take this form and fill in the requested information. The fees are listed at the bottom of the page. Make sure to provide the payment when you hand it back,” the young woman replied with a warm smile.

  Alynia motioned for Veil to approach while she stepped aside to leave space for another group.

  “I never asked, but… what’s your surname? Do you even remember it?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Uh… not at all. It’s a complete blank. Strange, now that you mention it… Why do I remember my name is Veil, but not my family name?” he murmured, his gaze drifting as if searching for an answer.

  “It doesn’t matter. We’ll sort that out at the guild. Here, it’s not important. They only ask in case of trouble,” Alynia said.

  She filled out the first form quickly, jotting down Veil’s details, then picked up the second to write her own.

  “Alynia Fenrhal? And you’re sixteen? I would’ve guessed Grandma Wolf was older,” Veil whispered with a stifled laugh.

  “Grandma Wolf? Hand me your sheet, I’ll request a higher-level treatment for you—clearly your head’s not working properly. And look at yourself… a little dwarf trying to speak with adults, huh?” she shot back, narrowing her eyes.

  “Oh, come on, joking isn’t really your strong suit, is it?” Veil muttered, rolling his eyes.

  “Listen, gnome, just survive your first treatment and then we’ll talk. We’ll see if you’re still smiling after what’s coming,” she replied with a sly grin.

  She returned to the counter and handed the clerk the completed forms, along with a small leather pouch.

  The woman counted the coins inside, tucked them into a small chest, then turned back to them.

  “Everything’s in order, perfect. For you, miss, please head to room twelve. And for you, young man, room five,” she said, pointing down the corridor.

  Alynia walked off, glancing up at the numbers carved into the stone above each door.

  “There’s your room, Little Wolf. Don’t do anything stupid, alright? Whether you believe in the gods or not, this is a sacred place. Their rules are strict—say something foolish and you’ll be getting your treatment in your next life,” Alynia warned, her voice soft but firm.

  Veil stepped inside the room, much smaller than he had expected.

  A small desk cluttered with files filled the left corner, while a wooden bed was set against the opposite wall.

  He pulled out the chair before him and sat down, mind clouded with uncertainty, wondering what was about to happen.

  His gaze drifted to the stacks of files piled on the desk, but the writing scrawled across the pages was utterly illegible.

  “How can anyone write this badly? Are these even letters?” he whispered, squinting in vain, hoping to make sense of something.

  The door burst open behind him, freezing him in place.

  A man entered, crossed the room without a word, and sat down at the desk opposite him. Sliding a few papers across, he placed one in front of Veil, then finally looked up.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Veil, right? No surname, no age? Got something to hide?” the man asked in a rough, severe voice.

  “Uh… n-no, sir. I don’t know my name or my age,” Veil stammered, his body trembling slightly.

  “Relax, boy. I just need to make sure you’re not lying to get treatment. Seems pointless, I know, but a liar would’ve invented a name and an age,” the man continued.

  “Alright. Strip down and lie on the bed. Grab a towel from the shelf so you’re not walking around naked.”

  Those words left Veil confused.

  Strip? Without even an explanation? he thought, unsettled.

  Still, he obeyed, stepping to the bed. He picked up a towel from the shelf and wrapped it around his waist before starting to undress.

  “Excuse me… do I really have to take everything off?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Yes. In your state, you’ll need full treatment. Don’t worry—that’s what the towel’s for. The skin needs to breathe during the process. Judging from your questions, this is your first time here, isn’t it?” the man answered calmly.

  Veil nodded faintly and carefully folded his clothes beside the bed.

  “I… I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything. I don’t even know if I’ve ever been to a place like this,” he admitted as he lay down.

  The man said nothing more.

  The mattress was strangely comfortable, and little by little, Veil’s body relaxed, as though drawn into an unreal sense of ease.

  The man stepped closer, placing a hand on Veil’s chest. The touch sent a shiver through him.

  He moved on to his arm, then his legs, pressing lightly here and there before straightening up. Without a word, he left the room, leaving Veil alone, confused, and with no explanation at all.

  “A little explanation would be nice, don’t you think? What am I even supposed to do now?” Veil muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice.

  Several long minutes passed in heavy silence until the door finally opened again.

  This time, the healer returned with a woman at his side.

  She approached the bed, kneeling beside Veil, and gently took his injured arm in her hands.

  “Alright, don’t move, understood? It’s not pretty, but it’ll heal quickly. Relax, and above all, stay still,” she said, her voice quick but calm.

  She pressed her fingers gently against the wound, the sound of them brushing against damaged flesh faintly wet and viscous. Clearing her throat, she closed her eyes as though to focus.

  “Gerginia,” she whispered softly, eyes shut.

  Veil didn’t understand the word she had just spoken, and his curiosity quickly got the better of him.

  “What? What does that mean, ‘Ge—’?” he began.

  But the woman instantly released his arm and clamped a hand over his mouth to silence him.

  “You must never speak those words. Whether you understand them or not makes no difference. Without the blessing of the gods, the only thing awaiting those who recite them is death. Do you understand me? Never attempt to reproduce this magic,” she growled, her eyes stern.

  Then she turned toward the man standing quietly in the corner.

  “Seriously? You didn’t even bother to explain how this would go? What’s the point of your files, then? Trying to get your patients killed, you idiot?”

  A heavy silence followed. Veil said nothing, while the healer lowered his gaze in shame. The woman drew a steadying breath, then placed her hands back on Veil’s arm.

  “Gerginia,” she repeated softly, closing her eyes once more.

  Veil watched her every move.

  The mere touch of her palms rekindled his pain, like pressing against a raw burn.

  But after a few seconds, a strange warmth began to pulse beneath his skin. Pleasant, at first. Then the heat grew stronger. Too strong. As though his arm hovered just above open flames.

  “Crefnaltis,” the woman said, her voice even, unaffected by Veil’s trembling.

  The pain surged to an unbearable intensity, like blades stabbing into his flesh in relentless rhythm. The sensation of bones shattering spread through his entire body, tears welling in his eyes. Even the Hydra’s bite had felt like a tender kiss compared to this torment.

  “Vrectanerls,” the woman whispered.

  Veil’s body began to glow faintly, as though a firefly had slipped beneath his skin. But the light grew brighter with every passing second, until it blazed so fiercely he had to squeeze his eyes shut.

  “By the blessing granted to me by the goddess Kressea… I, your servant, call upon your power to purify this body,” she murmured, her voice weak but resolute.

  Veil screamed, the searing light forcing his eyes closed. Time dragged endlessly, each second stretching into an eternity of agony. Then, all at once, a wave of relief crashed over him. The pain vanished, as if it had never been.

  He opened his eyes to see the woman rising to her feet.

  “It’s done, young man. You may get dressed and return to your routine. There will be no aftereffects, rest assured,” she said, picking up the sheet from the desk.

  She moved toward the door, the man trailing after her under the weight of her sharp scolding. Veil remained alone, still stunned by what he had endured.

  Looking down at his arm, his mouth fell open in disbelief.

  The burn that had twisted his skin was completely gone. His flesh was smooth again. Not only his arm, but his entire body bore no trace of wounds. Even the faintest ache was gone when he brushed his fingers across the skin. It was as though none of it had ever happened.

  He dressed quickly before stepping out into the hall. Alynia was waiting at the entrance, standing tall and straight as a post.

  “So, how was it? Bet you enjoyed yourself, huh—getting pampered by a little human girl,” Alynia teased with a laugh.

  “Oh, absolutely. I was in heaven under her tender touch. But I see your terrible sense of humor survived too,” Veil replied, rolling his eyes.

  “My terrible sense of humor? I’d love to laugh while watching you go through another treatment. Want me to pay for a second round?” she shot back, discreetly flashing a claw.

  “No thanks, I’ll pass. So… what now? Weren’t we heading to the guild?” Veil asked, adjusting his coat.

  Alynia gave him a long look from head to toe, then snickered.

  “First, we’re making you presentable before going anywhere near the guild. You may be healed, but looking like that, you’d scare off a Corvaros,” she said, turning toward the exit.

  “Very funny. But if I look like this, it’s only because someone else needed treatment too,” Veil muttered, following after her.

  They stepped out of the building, daylight flooding the city once more. The sun had reached its zenith, bathing the streets and buildings in a glow that made them look almost transformed compared to their arrival.

  “Come on, we’re heading back down. I know a nice little shop where we can find you some clothes. We’ll worry about proper gear later,” she explained, stretching with a relieved sigh. “Damn, it feels good not to feel any pain anymore. From here on out, it’s your turn, Little Wolf. Let’s go.”

  They moved along the street again, the weight of curious stares still pressing in on them. But this time, Veil didn’t care. Painful though the healing had been, he felt lighter—freed. He lifted his head to enjoy the warmth of the sun on his face, ready to face whatever came next.

  And yet, deep inside, something lingered.

  Among all those watching eyes, that same sensation remained. As if someone was following him from the shadows, tracking his every move. He cast a discreet glance around, but saw only ordinary passersby.

  Still, just as he shook his head to chase the thought away, a cloaked silhouette vanished into the darkness of an alley. All he caught was the glimpse of a black cape.

  He kept on following Alynia without a word, convincing himself it was only his imagination.

  But unbeknownst to him… danger was far closer than he realized.