The next day stretched on with an unbearable slow crawl, as if time itself hesitated to move forward while Ethan lay stubbornly still—motionless as a stone statue in the small, dimly lit infirmary room. His chest rose and fell with a shallow, steady rhythm, but his eyes remained tightly shut, unmoving, unresponsive. The soft glow of the lanterns cast flickering shadows over the pale contours of his face, making his silence feel even more profound.
Asher and Nick had been stationed at his bedside since dawn, neither daring to leave nor willing to waver in their vigil. The air hung thick with tension, heavier than the oppressive humidity that usually blanketed the academy's surrounding forest, as if the very atmosphere mourned alongside them.
Asher's usual brashness was stripped away, replaced by a fragile quiet. His blue hair, usually a wild storm of rebellious energy, lay flat and untamed, his sharp features slackened with worry. His bright eyes, typically filled with teasing fire, were dull and shadowed, fixed unblinkingly on Ethan's pale face. Every so often, his hand would tighten around Ethan's limp one, squeezing as if to draw strength through their fingers.
Nick sat nearby, leaning against the wall with his legs stretched out, his jaw clenched so tight that it looked like he was biting down on every fear, every anxious thought threatening to spill over. His dark hair was tousled from restless pacing, and his eyes betrayed sleepless exhaustion. Both boys wore the same haunted expression — the silent terror of watching a friend drift too close to the edge.
"I think… we should call a healer," Asher's voice broke the silence finally, barely above a whisper, strained and hesitant, the weight of his concern almost crushing him. The bravado he usually wore like armor was nowhere to be seen; this was the raw vulnerability of someone who had been watching hope slip away too fast.
Nick nodded grimly, pushing himself up with urgency. "Yeah… I know, we're supposed to get one." His voice trembled slightly, betraying the calm he tried to project. "I'm going now." Without waiting for further protest, he turned and dashed out, his footsteps a frantic echo down the long corridor.
Alone again, Asher lowered his head, resting his forehead against Ethan's cold hand. "I hope you're okay, Ethan," he murmured, voice raw but steady. He gripped Ethan's hand tighter as if his own strength might anchor him to life. "Please… you have to pull through."
Minutes dragged like hours until Nick burst back through the door, no longer alone. Trailing behind him was a figure who immediately drew Asher's attention — a boy with piercing blue eyes and streaks of silver-grey threading through his otherwise dark hair. Clad in the familiar red uniform of the Academy, he moved with an effortless confidence, his calm radiating like a steady flame in the midst of their storm.
Asher blinked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Wait, I thought you were going to get a healer. Why are you bringing a fire user?" His tone was sharp, edged with confusion and the faintest trace of disbelief. There was something off here, something he didn't quite understand.
Nick glanced between them, voice still strained but steadier. "I found him in the healing department. He said he's a healer… right?" The question hung in the air, filled with a blend of hope and skepticism.
The newcomer stepped forward, offering a slight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes but carried a calm assurance. "Yes, I'm a healer. I know it sounds strange — a fire user who heals — but it's true." He lifted one hand and flexed his fingers thoughtfully, as though conjuring the image of controlled flames. "The trick is controlling the flame's intensity, tempering the heat so it's less destructive and more… smoothing. I'm Danny."
His voice was soft but carried a certain conviction, as if he had heard the disbelief many times before and was prepared to prove it.
Asher's gaze sharpened, crossing his arms. "We're more concerned with how you can help our friend than your name, Danny," he said pointedly, eyes flicking to Ethan's still form. "Cut the small talk."
Danny nodded, his expression unreadable but calm. Without hesitation, he approached Ethan's bedside and gently laid a hand on his chest. From his palm, a soft red glow emerged, flickering like a tiny ember but quickly growing into a steady, soothing light. The warmth radiated outwards, wrapping around Ethan's body like a protective cocoon.
Asher and Nick exchanged glances, their previous skepticism softened by the palpable energy filling the room.
Danny closed his eyes, taking a slow breath as if centering himself before focusing his power. The glow pulsed in rhythm with his breathing, the light spreading slowly like molten lava, smoothing raw wounds beneath Ethan's skin. The aura shimmered, warm and gentle — a perfect balance between fire's destructive force and healing's delicate touch.
A tense silence fell, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric as Danny shifted closer. After what felt like an eternity, he opened his eyes, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered within them.
"I've got some good news… and some bad news," Danny announced quietly, his voice measured but calm, as if delivering a verdict.
Nick leaned forward, barely daring to breathe. "What's the good news?"
Danny's gaze remained locked on Ethan. "Your friend isn't in any immediate danger. The internal injuries are severe, but his body is healing remarkably quickly."
Asher exhaled softly, relief flooding his features for a brief moment.
"And the bad news?" Asher pressed, the impatience creeping back into his tone.
Danny's voice dropped lower. "I don't know when he'll wake up. It could be days… or even weeks." The weight of uncertainty hung in the air like a suffocating fog.
Nick's shoulders slumped, frustration barely contained. "Is there nothing you can do to speed it up? Anything at all?"
Danny's expression hardened, determination replacing hesitation. "There is… but it will cost you dragon points."
Asher's eyes snapped wide, disbelief and outrage mingling in his glare. "You're going to charge us to heal a friend? That's sick."
Danny sighed, the sound weary and resigned. "I know how that sounds, but it's the way the Academy system works. Healers need points to acquire resources, potions, specialized equipment, and even training. Without compensation, I can't provide the full range of treatments." His gaze flicked to Asher and Nick, sincere and unflinching. "It's unavoidable."
Nick swallowed hard, voice tight. "How much are we talking?"
"Eighty points," Danny said firmly, the number hanging like a stone in the room.
Asher's face flushed, fury rising like a tidal wave. "No way! That's outrageous! Eighty points is half of what we've worked for this term!"
Danny's gaze softened slightly but did not waver. "I understand your frustration, but healing severe injuries isn't cheap or easy. And your friend… he's lucky to be alive."
Asher's anger didn't fade, but a new, heavy weariness settled over him.
Danny shifted the conversation, his tone clinical but not unkind. "What exactly happened? I need to know what I'm dealing with."
Asher and Nick exchanged a glance, then spoke in near unison. "He was struck by lightning. Five times."
Danny's eyes darkened, a flicker of respect and pity shining through. "Five times… that's incredibly serious. The boy must have an extraordinary will to survive something like that."
"It's all because of the Academy and their stupid guidebook," Asher muttered bitterly, jaw clenched tight. "They didn't warn us. They handed us that thing like it was a recipe for disaster."
Danny raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I heard rumors. The last task — the one requiring facing the elements directly — has been considered too dangerous for centuries. Many students have died attempting it."
Nick's face twisted with frustration. "And yet, they didn't see fit to warn us! Just tossed us in and expected us to survive."
Danny's lips twitched with a grim smile. "Maybe they thought no one would be foolish enough to get struck by lightning repeatedly. Or maybe they just don't care."
His words echoed in the heavy silence that followed, leaving a bitter aftertaste. Asher's fists clenched, knuckles white. Nick ran a hand through his hair, his face tense with unanswered questions.
The room seemed to shrink around them, the walls closing in with the weight of unspoken fears and frustrations. Yet amidst it all, a small ember of hope glowed faintly—the knowledge that Danny was here, that the path to recovery might exist, even if it demanded a steep price.
Asher exhaled slowly, voice softer now. "Alright… tell us what we need to do."
Danny nodded once, sharp and precise. "First, we prepare for a long recovery. I'll start the healing rituals, but it will require constant monitoring and… cooperation."
Nick glanced toward Ethan's still form, eyes burning with fierce determination. "We'll do whatever it takes."
Asher's gaze hardened with resolve, the fire in his eyes rekindling. "We owe him that much."
The tension in the room didn't fade, but the unbearable silence was broken. Together, they would fight through it.