Balen had been quiet for three days now, observing from the corner of the clinic as Elric worked.
The scholar had seen enough to understand that Elric wasn't just a healer. He was a man who had unlocked the secrets of the body in a way no one—magic or science—had ever done before. Each movement, each diagnosis, each treatment felt like a page in a book, written by a hand that knew the story intimately.
It was unnerving.
On the fourth day, Elric finished cleaning his instruments and turned to Balen, who had his nose buried in a thick tome.
"Do you need anything else?" Elric asked, his tone uncharacteristically sharp.
Balen looked up, startled. "Oh—uh—no, nothing more. I've... gathered what I needed."
Elric stared at him for a moment, as if reading his thoughts. "You're not here for knowledge, are you? You're here to report."
Balen froze. "I—I don't know what you mean."
"You know exactly what I mean," Elric said, his voice was soft, yet firm. "I'm not blind to the games being played. I see the way they look at me from the shadows, the way they whisper my name."
Balen swallowed hard, but said nothing.
"You don't need to lie to me," Elric added, turning away to wash his hands. "You're here because they're afraid. They're afraid of me. Afraid of what I can do without magic."
The silence in the room felt thick, suffocating.
Finally, Balen spoke, his voice hesitant. "The council... they don't understand. They see you as a threat to everything they've built, everything they believe in."
Elric turned, eyes narrowing. "Do they?"
Balen didn't answer, but his hesitation told Elric everything he needed to know.
Elric walked to his desk, scribbling down a few quick notes. "You should go back. Report what you've seen, and let them decide what to do with me."
"But—"
"No buts. If they want to stop me, they'll try. If they want to use me, they'll try that, too. Either way, I'll be ready."
---
As Balen left the clinic, Elric stood by the window, watching him retreat down the dirt path. The day was growing late, and the shadows of the trees stretched long across the ground.
From the corner of his eye, Elric caught the glint of something—someone—hidden among the trees. A flicker of motion. But when he turned fully, there was nothing.
His instincts flared, but he pushed the feeling aside.
"Always watching," he muttered under his breath.
---
In the grand palace, high above the lands Elric had come to know, King Taran sat alone in his private chamber, a parchment spread before him. The royal physician stood by, nervously awaiting orders.
The king's fingers danced across the paper. "Tell me about this boy. This 'mad prince.'"
The physician swallowed. "Your Majesty, he's not mad. But what he does—without magic—well, it could change everything. The council's frightened."
"Let them be frightened," the king said, his voice was low,yet dangerous. "Let them see what happens when the rules are rewritten."
---
Back at the clinic, Elric closed his notebook and sat back in his chair, deep in thought. The winds outside howled like the distant whisper of a storm on the horizon.
He wasn't just healing anymore. He was on the verge of something bigger. Something dangerous.
And the eyes of the kingdom were upon him.
---
End of Arc 1.