"There… there…"
He patted the back of the person hunched over the bucket. The sound of vomiting echoed through the carriage, wet and violent and absolutely unrelenting. The person's shoulders heaved with each convulsion, their body folded at an angle that could not possibly be comfortable.
Finally, the gagging stopped. A ragged breath followed, then another. The individual slumped, catching their breath against the rim of the bucket.
"Here."
Lucid handed over a cup of water. The yellow-haired young man reached for it with trembling fingers, his face pale beneath the cap he always wore.
"Ah, what a lifesaver—"
Valen could not contain himself. His stomach convulsed again, and the water he had just swallowed came back up, splashing across Lucid's outstretched hand.
Lucid stepped back, disgust twisting his features beneath the mist that perpetually shrouded his face.
"You idiot. Not on me!"
Valen coughed for a bit, his body still shaking from the aftershocks of his sickness. "I am sorry."
Lucid wiped his hand cautiously, studying Valen through narrowed eyes. The yellow-haired boy's face was still pale, his golden eyes watering from the effort of vomiting.
"Yeah. Yeah… That was clearly on purpose..." He grumbled.
He did not believe the apology. Not entirely. But he also did not care enough to press the matter.
A knock sounded on the carriage door.
Three knocks came at the door, deliberate and also measured.
Lucid felt relieved when his pendant finally connected. He had been trying for days, channeling small amounts of fate essence into the crystal, listening to static and silence. But tonight, someone answered.
"Hey," he said into the small glowing stone. "I contacted you through my pendant and it worked. Anyways, my friend here is sort of sick."
"Your friend?"
Lucid gestured toward the door of the carriage, inviting the person on the other end to enter. The door slid open.
Jing Xiu stepped inside.
The healer's dark robes brushed against the floor as he moved, his smooth features composed in their usual mask of professional detachment. His eyes swept the carriage interior once, cataloging details with the efficiency of someone who had spent years observing symptoms and diagnosing conditions.
Then he saw Valen.
The yellow-haired boy was collapsed on the floor near one of the bunks, his cap fallen to the side, his face pale and slick with sweat. His chest rose and fell in shallow, irregular breaths.
"Is it him?" Lucid asked.
"Yes, doc." Lucid rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, let us just say he is out of it."
Jing Xiu made his way toward Valen. He knelt beside the boy and lifted him gently, propping him against the side of the bunk so his face was angled toward the ceiling. From a small leather case, he produced an instrument that looked suspiciously like a stethoscope, the kind of device Lucid had seen in old books from Earth.
For a moment, Jing Xiu went still. His eyes lingered on Valen's face, tracing the lines of it with something that looked like recognition. He studied the boy's features as if checking them against a memory he had not expected to surface.
Lucid brushed the thought aside. This world was not as primal as he had once believed. Technology from other realms found its way here. Strange devices. Stranger medicines. He had stopped questioning where things came from.
After some time, Jing Xiu straightened up and rearranged his instruments.
"Your friend is fine," the healer said. He snapped his case shut with a soft click. "Mild symptoms of a fever. Nausea. Elevated body temperature. May I ask, did he drink sea water?"
Lucid shook his head. "No. He is seasick. We went fishing earlier."
"I see." Jing Xiu nodded. "Then there is no need for a prescription. He will recover on his own within a day."
Lucid blinked. 'No painkillers? No herbal remedies? What kind of doctor is this?'
Jing Xiu turned to face him fully. "And you?"
Lucid glanced back at Valen. The boy's eyes were closed, his breathing still shallow. He seemed completely unconscious, completely unaware of the conversation happening around him.
'I could tell him,' Lucid thought. 'He seems out of it. He would not hear anything.'
"I used my powers," Lucid said quietly. "A lot of fate essence."
Jing Xiu's eyes narrowed.
"I threw up blood. A lot of it. I even collapsed at one point, but I pushed through it."
Jing Xiu interrupted. His voice was sharp, cutting through Lucid's words. "I do not care why you used your powers. But you do know the consequences, do you not? You are aware that you are dying?"
Lucid nodded sheepishly. But he did not understand. Not really. He had been cut in half by that paladin back in the Epsilon rift. He had fallen from great heights. A knife had pierced his eye and driven into his skull, killing him instantly. And each time, Alice had come. She had healed him. Saved him. Pulled him back from the edge of death.
Was this different? Was this something worse? If he injured himself again, if he bled again from the illness, would she still be able to reach him?
He thought about the instances where his healing had failed. The times when wounds had lingered longer than they should have as well as the growing fatigue that settled into his bones after every recovery.
The realization settled into him like a stone dropped into deep water.
"I have a trait that allows for healing," Lucid said.
Jing Xiu met his eyes with a look that was quiet but sharp, sharper than any glare. It was the very same look of someone who had seen too many patients make the same mistake.
"You think you can heal from your illness." It was not a question.
Lucid said nothing.
"I do not know what stage of Enlightenment you have reached," Jing Xiu continued. "In higher stages, it is actually possible to heal faster than the body deteriorates. However, do you have the fate essence for that and adequate trait? Do you have enough collective faith to use your trait to its fullest? Let us say one day you suddenly run out of it. The illness would creep back up toward you again."
"What will you do then? Sacrifice yourself?"
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and focusing entirely on Lucid.
"Moreover, individuals who can maintain that balance are either deities or humans of Eminent rank with high collective faith. You are human, though I admit your case is unique. Human bodies were not designed to sustain that cycle indefinitely especially without any followers or believers. I would think twice before putting yourself in a loop of constant healing and deterioration."
Jing Xiu paused. His voice dropped, becoming almost conversational, like he remembered something painfully obvious.
He sighed.
"But does it really matter? You are a walking dead man. One day, whether it be tomorrow or the day after, death will take you. So do as you wish with that information."
Lucid gritted his teeth. His resolve sharpened, cutting through the fear that tried to settle in his chest.
'He does not understand. I do not care if I die. I can heal. Alice is a Primordial. She will bring me back. She always has.'
He tried to reason with himself, to push back against the his words. But something in Jing Xiu's tone made the arguments feel hollow.
"The check up is free," Jing Xiu said, picking up his case. "It is due to your service as a guinea pig for my research. Have a good evening."
He turned toward the door.
Lucid remembered the countless chambers he had been forced to enter. The unpleasant memories that still made his stomach turn. The way Jing Xiu had poked and prodded and measured him like a specimen under glass.
Before Jing Xiu reached the door, Lucid called out.
"Wait!"
The healer paused.
Lucid did not know why exactly, but he needed to say something before the man walked out into the night.
"I have my own reasons for using this power," Lucid said. His hands clenched at his sides.
He gritted his teeth confirming what he was about to say. To confirm that he had absolutely meant it.
"There is no amount of persuasion or anything you can say for me to do otherwise, I will use this powers to its fullest and ensure I achieve what I have sought out since the beginning"
"And I cannot let go of it. Please. Is there something? A vial, an artifact, anything that can make me live just a little longer?"
Jing Xiu faced him. For a moment, his composed expression cracked.
He laughed.
It was uncharacteristic, unexpected. He was usually so calm, so reserved, so measured in everything he said and did. But this laugh was different. Sharper and almost bitter.
"That is a good joke," Jing Xiu said. His voice lost its warmth. "Lucid, you do not seem to understand. Your body is beyond saving."
He sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice carried the precision of a surgeon laying out the facts before an operation.
"You have an irregular heartbeat. Approximately forty beats per minute. A healthy young man your age should have seventy beats per minute. Your organs inside are twisted, constrained, as if they have been hastily put back together and left to heal on their own. Your bones show fractures close to the joints while the rest of your bone remains pristine. Your blood is dark red, almost maroon. And to top it all off, you carry the same symptoms as someone who has the Withering."