Kenneth felt for the poor kid, he really did.
As a clerk working for the Adventurer’s Guild, he didn’t have to deliver bad news very often. Receive, certainly, but give? That task was left to the official messengers. Kenneth didn’t envy them one bit. Telling someone their loved one was about to die was without doubt one of the worst feelings in the world.
Baker physically staggered back as though he’d been pierced with an arrow. His expression cycled through multiple warring emotions: confusion, denial, horror, fear.
“No,” he whispered. “I…” He looked around frantically, like he’d suddenly gone blind. “I need to – I must–”
“You can use one of the Guild’s horses,” said Kenneth, already flagging down a nearby assistant. “Trained by our master Beast Tamers. Free of charge. I can also check to see if we have any Guild falcons available–”
“Too slow,” Baker snapped. “The hospital is on the other side of the city.” He whirled to his teammate, Ironwood. “Can you teleport me there?”
Kenneth blinked. “That won’t work—“
“I can,” Ironwood said, not a trace of hesitation in his voice. He reached out and took Volkov and Baker by the hand. Baker’s grip was so tight, his knuckles were white. Ironwood’s hand must’ve been crushed by the force, but he didn’t show any indication of noticing. His stormy grey eyes were narrowed in intense concentration.
“You can’t teleport within the guildhall, or anywhere within a hundred meter radius,” Kenneth tried again. “The entire grounds are surrounded by anti-teleportation wards.”
Panic flashed in Baker’s eyes. His head snapped at Ironwood. “Is that true? Can the wards stop you?”
Ironwood hummed. His head was tilted slightly to the left, and his eyes were distant as he gazed off into nothing.
Was it Kenneth’s imagination, or had a sudden breeze picked up in the guildhall?
“Nah,” Ironwood said, still peering at something that seemingly only he could see. “The wards should be easy enough to bypass. The hard part is finding the place… Andevar, can you describe the external appearance of the hospital?”
“Uhh… Large marble pillars, all white, a door adorned with a staff around which coils a two-headed snake, multiple statues of prominent healers, a tiered fountain—“
“Good enough. I don’t have time to be subtle here. Apologies in advance.”
Kenneth opened his mouth to speak, frustration bubbling up inside him. This was the problem with new adventurers, especially ones from the Institute. They always thought they were so skilled and talented, that they’d be the exception. Ironwood might think that he was helping, but all he was really doing was wasting time and giving Baker false hope–
Magic burst from Ironwood’s form and flooded the entire hall, so dense and potent that even Kenneth, without an ounce of magical aptitude in his body, felt it. It was as if the sky itself had fallen upon him, pressing down with the weight of a thousand tons. Kenneth's elbows hit the countertop of the desk. That was the only thing keeping him up, and even then, his muscles groaned with effort.
The other adventurers in the hall looked around in alarm. The guards that lined the wall made to rush forward, weapons materializing in their hands, but their movements were slow and sluggish, as though the air itself had turned to liquid.
Then, the magic exploded outward in a single radial pulse.
It was so powerful that several adventurers in the halls, mages by their appearances, outright collapsed. Alarm bells began ringing, not just in the Adventurer's Guildhall, but off in the distance outside as well. Kenneth didn't even know such alarm bells existed. He wouldn't be surprised if every mage, no, every adventurer in the entire city felt the pulse of magic.
But what was the purpose of–?
Ironwood spoke.
“Found it.”
Kenneth froze. No way. All of this, the whole unbelievable display, was just a simple magical echolocation technique?!
He gaped at Ironwood with wide eyes as a tangible aura came to life around the adventurer, swirling white light interswirled with streaks of grey.
Then, an earsplitting crack rang out, like a thousand mirrors shattering all at once. There was a bright flash, so bright Kenneth had to close his eyes lest he get blinded. He opened them again a moment later, rapidly blinking away the spots.
They were gone.
He stared at the spot where they’d just been for several moments. For several seconds, he couldn’t comprehend what he had just witnessed. It was a well-documented fact that the anti-teleportation wards surrounding the guildhall were infallible and impenetrable. Not even an Ascendant theoretically should’ve been able to get through. If Kenneth were a mage, he would’ve been spitting blood.
Fortunately, he wasn’t a mage. He was only a clerk – a clerk who just had to give some very terrible news.
And so he simply smiled, even as the welcome hall exploded into chaos around him.
“May the Goddess bestow her favor upon you.”
Andevar was going to throw up.
For once, it wasn’t because of the nauseating aftereffects that always accompanied Levi’s brand of teleportation.
They arrived outside Saint Clark’s Hospital. Andevar rushed in immediately before reality even properly reasserted itself around him. The receptionist, on seeing him, instantly waved him through. He had been there enough times before for her to know him by name.
He sprinted past the inside springs, filled with rejuvenating water sourced from the eastern lands of Yukihasa. He ignored the stairs entirely and leapt ten meters into the air, landing with a light thud at the top. He nearly ran into several nurses and healers, giving them hastily-muttered apologies.
His mother was on the second floor, in the long-term care unit. She used to only have to go to the hospital once every two weeks for treatment, but ever since her condition had worsened several weeks ago, she had become a permanent resident at the hospital.
Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. If only he hadn't gone on a mission — but no, there was no way he could have known that her illness would deteriorate again.
Why was it suddenly accelerating so fast? Was this karmic retribution of some sort? Had he just displeased the Goddess in some way?
Andevar skidded to a stop as he arrived outside her room. The room was empty. His heart lurched. He would have broken down right then and there if a nurse hadn’t called out to him.
“Mr Baker! Thank the Goddess you’re here. Your mother is in the operating room on the third floor — I’ll escort you there.”
Behind him, Levi and Liliya caught up and joined them as the nurse led them to the third floor.
“Will she be okay?” Liliya asked as they rushed through the halls. “What illness afflicts her? If it’s a matter of cost, rest assured that House Volkov will cover any and all treatment necessary—“
“She has late-stage Proliferation.”
Liliya froze, the wind knocked out of her. “Oh.”
In that moment, there was nothing Andevar hated more than the look of pity and sorrow she gave him. He didn't blame her, of course. A part of him even appreciated it. But even so.
Nobody knew exactly what caused Proliferation. Some researchers had theorized that it was due to the body's magic somehow malfunctioning and turning on itself.
Proliferation forced the body's cells to rapidly multiply at an uncontrollable rate. Bolstered, enabled, and accelerated by the body's magic itself, the growths spread throughout a person’s entire form, embedding itself deeply and thoroughly into every organ system in the body. In the most advanced stages, the malignant growths extended into the brain itself, millions of microscopic tendrils coiled around swathes of neurons like a malefic viper. Proliferation was resistant to all forms of magical treatment: spells, potions, alchemical tinctures, rituals, even the Goddess’s magic. Most diagnostic scans didn't even register Proliferation as a disease.
One magical theorist had hypothesized that it was because Proliferation was technically a ‘disease’ of life. Cells wanted to live and reproduce ad infinitum. Proliferation just removed their ability to care about their owner’s life in the process.
Fortunately, it was a very rare disease, with less than a hundred new cases in the world every year. Unfortunately, Andevar's mother was one of those unlucky ones.
Proliferation was incurable. One of the infamous few illnesses that had no cure. Treatment could prolong an individual's life, but not by much. Even still, his mother should have had a whole two more years to live. Instead, now she might not even have a minute.
“What’s Proliferation?” Andevar heard Levi mutter to Liliya behind him. He didn’t register it. His thoughts were fully focused on his mother.
Will things be okay? Anxiety on a level he didn't even know could exist overwhelmed his entire mind. It felt like his heart was repeatedly being stabbed by needles of ice. There was a lump in his chest, an expanding balloon of molten steel.
He was angry.
He was scared.
He didn’t know what to do.
Finally, they reached the third floor. The whole journey had taken less than twenty seconds, but to Andevar, it felt like an agonizing eternity. The Emergency Operations Department was sealed off to outsiders. A large pair of double doors guarded the corridor.
The nurse held her hand to a perfectly spherical ball that hovered next to the doors. The doors opened soundlessly a moment later, receding into the walls in a spiral motion.
“The two of you will have to remain outside,” the nurse said to Levi and Liliya. “Only family members are allowed to enter.”
They didn't protest. Liliya was still whispering to Levi. Andevar paid them no mind as the nurse escorted him into the operations department, the doors closing shut behind them.
“What happened?” Andevar finally calmed down enough to ask. “I thought her condition stabilized.”
“We don't know,” the nurse answered. “Her vitals suddenly dropped yesterday for no reason at all.” Andevar cursed. That blasted disease! But it made sense. After all, wasn’t it the nature of life to be unpredictable? “The healers have been working nonstop to stabilize her, but…”
She trailed off, not finishing the sentence. She didn’t have to.
They burst into the room. Andevar took in the sight in an instant. His mother was suspended horizontally in the air by an unseen force, clothed in a light green gown. A team of healers surrounded her, three in total, all dressed in flowing white robes. Andevar recognized them all.
Healer Williams cradled her head between his hands, his face screwed up in a rictus of concentration. Healer Anthony stood before her, waves upon waves of green light pouring forth from his outstretched hands. Healer Vernon was barking out orders as he examined the floor-to-ceiling screen on the left wall. The screen displayed her body in a three-dimensional cross-section view. Densely-coiled interconnected tendrils snaked throughout her entire body.
Andevar’s heart sank. There were more tumors since the last time he had visited. And…
By now, they were so deeply rooted in her brain, he couldn’t tell where they ended and her neurons began.
“Left lung, section D-27, forty MP of cryomagic!” Healer Vernon snapped, his eyes flicking around wildly as he tracked her status. “Kidney failure 80%, liver failure 93%, accumulated toxins flooding the body, three ampules of bezoar extract!” Three needles rose into the air and plunged into her carotid artery, injecting their contents. “Right iliotibial tract expanding, semimembranosus sartorius plantaris all swelling, unresponsive to anti-inflammatories, structural collapse imminent – fuck it, we can’t contain it, just amputate the whole damn thing!”
Healer Anthony nodded, and before Andevar’s wide eyes, he sliced his hand through the air. A moment later, his mother’s leg separated cleanly from her body. Green strands of light instantly closed the wound shut; not even a single drop of blood was lost.
“She’s not going to hold,” Healer Williams grunted out, sweat pouring down his face. “Her brain is already beginning to shut down. When is that fucking kid going to get here–?”
He caught sight of Andevar standing at the doorway. None of the three had even noticed him or the nurse enter; they were so deep in concentration.
“Baker!” Healer Williams shouted. “He’s here!”
Healer Vernon and Healer Anthony spun around in surprise. A moment later, they both cursed and whirled back around to continue administering treatment; they couldn’t afford even a single second of distraction.
“About fucking time!” Healer Vernon snapped, his voice gruff. “What took you so long?”
“My mother,” Andevar rasped. “Is she… Will she be…”
Healer Vernon’s tone softened into something that might be described as gentle. “Sorry, kid. Not even the Goddess can save her at this point.” His words slammed into Andevar like a guillotine. “We wanted to keep her alive until you came back. We managed to preserve most of her auditory and speech functions, though I’m afraid her sight is gone.” He nodded to Healer Williams. “Flood her with analgesics, then wake her up. No need to hold back.”
Healer Williams nodded. Thin magical threads shot from his fingers into his mother’s skull. A second later, she let out a gasp, her eyes snapping wide open.
“Mom!” Andevar rushed to her side. She twitched at his voice, her vacant, milky eyes attempting to seek him out.
“An…devar?”
“I’m here,” Andevar said. It took all his willpower to keep his voice from cracking. He envied Liliya for her ability to always maintain perfect composure. “I’m here, Mom.” He squeezed his eyes shut. A single traitorous tear still escaped, sliding down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” she replied. There was a note of wonder in her voice. “It… It doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel any pain. But I can’t see… Why can’t I see?”
Her voice sounded so lost. At that moment, she didn’t sound like the middle-aged, stern mother he’d always known. She sounded almost like a child.
“The healers are trying something new–”
“Don’t lie to me!” she snapped in an inexplicable burst of anger. Andevar didn’t hold it against her. The tumors in her brain had been interfering with her personality for a while now. “What’s happening?” she shrieked, thrashing wildly in place. “Why can’t I move? Why can’t I feel my right leg? Why can’t I see? Why–” She froze. Lucidity returned to her. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. Fragile. “Why are you crying?”
Andevar hadn’t made a single sound. There shouldn’t have been any way for her to know of the tears streaming down his face. Yet, she had known anyway. A mother’s intuition, perhaps.
Whatever it was, it calmed her down. She now gazed directly at him, a look of such sincere concern on her face that Andevar wanted to laugh. She was worried? About him?
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
Andevar’s eyes widened. “Mom, no–”
“Don’t lie to me,” she said again, this time quiet. “I’ve known this was coming for a long time now. The healers are in the room with us, aren’t they?” She turned her head from side to side. “How much time do I have?”
Silence. Healer Vernon looked at Andevar. After a long moment, Andevar closed his eyes and nodded.
“Two minutes,” Healer Vernon answered, his voice strained. He had left the screen and joined Healer Anthony in sending out green healing magic into her form, trying to stabilize her for as long as possible. “If that.” He paused. Then his expression set. “Mrs Baker, it’s been an honor being your healer for the past few years.” He bowed, even though she wouldn’t see. “Thank you for allowing me to take care of you.”
She smiled. “Thank you for giving me time. You did everything you could do.” Then, she turned back to Andevar. “My son…”
She extended her arms. Andevar didn’t need to be told twice.
He rushed forward, practically stumbling in his haste, and hugged her, his entire body trembling tightly. She tried to hug back, but her arms were too weak.
“I’m sorry,” he cried into her shoulder. Her body was so cold. Like she was already a living corpse. “I should’ve been here sooner. I…”
“Where were you?” His mom murmured.
“I was on a mission. My first platinum-tier mission.”
“Were people in danger?”
“Yes. I was at Canum – it was under invasion from a monster army.”
“You fought them?”
“N-No. I was too weak to help. My teammate was the one to slay them all. All I could do was watch on the sideline.” His voice suddenly grew fierce. “But I didn’t run! Other adventurers, even Adamantine-tiers, ran away. But I stayed. I tried to defend the city. I did what you told me to do. I didn’t run. You hear me? I didn’t run!”
“Oh, my son…”
“I’m an adventurer now,” he said hurriedly, the words now coming out in an unstoppable torrent. He didn’t have time, he didn’t have time! “An Institute graduate. It’s all because of you. And – and I’ll make sure to continue making you proud. I’ll become a high-tier adventurer. I’ll save countless people, so many that the entire country will know my name. I’ll make sure to become successful, someone who you can be proud of–”
“Andevar,” his mom interrupted him. He fell silent. “There’s no need for any of that. You just have to do one thing for me. Okay? Promise me.”
“I–I promise.”
“Be happy. Live your life well.”
Andevar choked up. Her voice was impossibly gentle.
“You don’t have to do anything else. You can never find another iota of success. You can quit being an adventurer and return to being a baker if you want. It doesn’t matter. Because…”
And she smiled. It was beautiful, one of unconditional pride and joy.
“I’m already proud of you.”
And Andevar sobbed. He gave up on trying to hold it back. Weakly, she patted his back as he cried into her shoulder.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” he choked out. “Thank you for raising me. It must’ve been so hard, especially after dad died. I’m sorry we argued so much when we were younger. I’m sorry for everything I said. Thank you–“ His voice broke. “Thank you for being my mom.”
“Oh, Andevar. You are the greatest joy of my life. The past eighteen years…” She beamed at him. “If you offered me the chance to relive my life a hundred more times, a life with no strife or illness, I’d still choose to be your mother again, each and every single time.” Her voice grew weak. “Just… remember. I… will always… love you.”
Through nothing but sheer force of will, she held her smile for another second.
Then, her entire body slackened and her head lolled back.
“No!” Andevar screamed. He shook her, trying to wake her again. He thought he’d already come to terms with it, but now faced with reality, a sudden panic overwhelmed him, like he’d been doused in a freezing cold waterfall. He looked at Healer Vernon desperately. “Can’t you do anything? Anything at all?!”
Healer Vernon shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry. Her vital signs are plummeting at a precipitous rate. She’s beyond saving now–”
The door to the operating room blasted open and Levi Ironwood strode in.
Healer Vernon immediately whirled on the intrusion, drawing up to his full height. “WHO DARES?” he yelled. “What is the meaning of this? Who are you to interrupt the final, sacred moment between a parent and a child–”
“Sorry I’m late,” Levi said, brushing him aside like dust. “Liliya and the other healers caught me up to speed on this ‘Proliferation.’” His magic burst from his form, blanketing the entire room. A vortex of wind began howling around him. “Quite the terrible disease. I can see why it’s considered incurable with even the Goddess’s magic. However…”
He flicked two fingers across the air, and the top of Andevar’s mother’s skull separated from her head.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Healer Vernon roared. Despite being a noncombatant, despite the tsunami of magic pouring forth from Levi, Healer Vernon charged forward, two magical surgical scalpels extending from his hands, ready to attack a clearly superior foe even if it cost him his own life.
Liliya Volkov blocked him. She materialized in front of him and deftly disarmed him with her sword. The scalpels dissipated into motes of light as Healer Vernon froze. The nurse screamed. None of them had even seen her appear.
“Quiet down and don’t interfere,” she said quietly.
Andevar watched, utterly frozen, as Levi examined his mother’s exposed brain with a steely, considering gaze, his eyes emitting a faint silver glow. He let out a contemplative hum. Then, he glanced over at Andevar, his magic swirling around him in a chaotic whirlwind.
“Do you trust me?”
Did Andevar trust Levi?
No. Not really. Levi might be an archmage, but that didn’t translate to the healing arts. If even the Goddess couldn’t save his mother, what could Levi possibly do?
And yet…
Andevar looked Levi dead in the eye.
“DO IT!”
And Levi smiled. “Gladly.”
“There’s no point!” Healer Williams shouted. “Proliferation is incurable for a reason – it’s a disease of life itself! It is life’s purest expression to thrive and survive and replicate! The only thing you’re doing here is desecrating her corpse!”
“Disease of life, huh?” Levi mused. “How curious.” He gave a fierce, unbridled grin. “That means death should work quite nicely as a counter, eh?”
And his magic roared.