CHAPTER 81 — HEALER

Charlotte was walking toward Holar Jun's house to visit Percy.

The city had begun to look normal again. Shops were open, the streets were filling, and vehicles in the air had returned to their usual routes.

The world continued.

As if Percy Grant had not died a few days ago.

Charlotte's steps slowed.

The more she tried not to think about Percy, the more she remembered.

Lake District Training Camp. The laps beginning before sunrise. The scorpions. The lake. Elizabeth Olsen's pressure. Percy standing before the students and telling them truths none of them wanted to hear.

Thirty days of hell.

Back then, Charlotte had thought about how much Percy made them suffer. She had been angry with him, hated him more than once, and genuinely wanted to attack him at least once.

Looking back now, she saw something else.

Percy had never stopped while pushing them. He had not run less, been injured less, or been afraid less than any of them.

Most of the time, he had suffered more.

He had entered the lake first. He had drawn far more Orin into his body than it could endure. He had fought twelve people at once, had his legs broken, his arm pierced, and his ribs shattered.

Yet he had laughed.

Charlotte had once believed Percy could endure pain.

Now another possibility occurred to her.

Perhaps Percy did not endure it.

Perhaps he simply refused to show it in front of the others.

The moment she thought of Leon, Charlotte felt sick.

The Orin inside her surged. Air shifted around her feet, and the branches of a tree beside the road whipped violently. Two people passing in front of her turned in surprise.

Charlotte stopped, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

The images did not stop.

Percy's body. The lightning scars across his chest. His unmoving fingers. His cold skin. Clara refusing to release his hand.

Charlotte clenched her fists.

Percy had told her she would become a healer.

He had told her not to become someone who merely closed wounds. A healer did not wait outside the battle. If they reached the right place at the right moment, they could change the outcome of the fight.

Charlotte had believed him.

Then Percy had died.

And Charlotte had done nothing.

Her Orin surged again. This time, wind circled her skirt and lifted the dry leaves from the ground.

“Charlotte?”

She opened her eyes at the familiar voice.

William stood several meters ahead, two books tucked beneath his arm and a small pouch in his hand. His clothes were as neat as always, but the faint shadows under his eyes showed that he had not slept properly either.

William looked at the leaves circling her, then at Charlotte.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

William said nothing. He only watched her.

Charlotte lasted a few seconds.

“Don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“As though you'll understand everything.”

“I can't understand everything.”

Charlotte gave a bitter laugh.

“You didn't understand Leon.”

William's expression changed. Charlotte regretted the words immediately.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“No.” William's gaze dropped. “You're right.”

“William...”

He tightened his grip on the books.

“I should have been able to read Percy Grant. Even if I couldn't calculate Leon, I should have been able to read Percy. I should have known something was hurting him. I should have seen the change between him and Clara.”

“You did.”

“Not enough.”

William's voice remained calm, but there was something beneath that calm now.

“On the day of the duel, I could have realized Leon would not accept things as they were. I could have seen that what he felt when he looked at Percy wasn't merely anger. If I had found one possibility, I could have warned Percy. I might have told one of the teachers. Perhaps—”

“William.”

He stopped.

Charlotte looked at him.

“I was there too. I was there when Percy died. I can use Heal. I can mend people's wounds. Percy told me I would become a healer.”

Her voice trembled.

“But when he died, I couldn't do anything.”

The guilt on William's face shifted.

Charlotte looked away.

“What use am I if I'm going to be a healer? His heart had stopped. His nervous system was destroyed. His body was burned. I only watched.”

“You're only seven years old.”

Charlotte turned on him immediately.

“Percy is seven too. Clara is seven. Arthur and Nathaniel are seven. All of us are seven, and Percy still died. Being seven doesn't mean no one will die next time.”

William watched her for a while, then slowly nodded.

“No,” he said. “It doesn't.”

They stood silently beside one another.

At last William sighed.

“Even so, we weren't capable of stopping it.”

Somebody copied this chapter from and reposted it here; the author did not agree to that.

“I know.”

“I couldn't have calculated what Leon would do.”

“I know.”

“And you couldn't have brought Percy back from that condition.”

Charlotte pressed her lips together.

“I know.”

William adjusted his glasses.

“Then why are we blaming ourselves?”

Charlotte did not answer. William did not wait for one.

They both knew.

They loved Percy.

And when someone you loved died, even failing to do the impossible felt like a crime.

Charlotte started walking again. William fell into step beside her.

After several steps, Charlotte spoke.

“I'm still going to train harder.”

William looked at her. “How much harder?”

“As much as necessary.”

“That is not a measurable value.”

“Neither was healing someone who returned from death.”

William fell silent. Charlotte's expression did not change.

“If this ever happens again, I won't merely watch. I'll become a healer good enough to save him from death.”

A small smile appeared on William's lips.

“Percy would run from you if he heard that.”

Charlotte smiled faintly. “Why?”

“He would assume you planned to use him as a test subject during training.”

“He would be correct.”

William's smile grew.

“Then I'll help as well.”

Charlotte looked at him.

“Have you decided to learn Heal?”

“No.”

“What will you do?”

“Reduce the chance of injury.”

“How?”

William answered without hesitation.

“By preventing eighty-three percent of Percy's decisions.”

Charlotte stared at him for several seconds, then laughed.

“Only eighty-three percent?”

“Even Clara can't stop the remaining seventeen.”

“I think the percentage is higher.”

“I need more data.”

Together, they reached Holar Jun's house.

Percy lay in his own bed.

Technically.

The pillow had slipped from beneath his head, half his blanket was on the floor, and one arm hung over the edge of the mattress.

Clara lay beside him.

She thought Percy was asleep, so she was quite comfortable.

She took a small lock of Percy's hair, brought it near his nose, and studied his face.

After a while, she released it. Waited a few seconds. Then took it again and held it beneath his nose.

Percy's expression did not change.

A mischievous smile appeared on Clara's lips.

She did it once more.

Percy's nose twitched.

Clara pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Just as she moved the hair closer again, an arm emerged from beneath the blanket.

Before Clara understood what was happening, Percy's hand caught her hair.

He pulled.

“YOU MOTHER— PERCYYYY!”

Percy did not open his eyes.

Clara tried to free her hair.

“Weren't you asleep?”

“I am.”

Clara froze. “Liar.”

“I'm still asleep.”

“You're not asleep.”

“I am.”

“You are definitely not asleep.”

Percy did not release her hair.

“I died.”

Clara's face soured. Percy opened one eye ever so slightly.

She was staring at him.

“How long are you going to keep doing this?”

Percy considered it. “Three days.”

“Your agreement with Nathaniel doesn't apply to me.”

“It applies to everyone because I died.”

“There is no such rule.”

“I didn't have time to prepare one while dying.”

Clara stared at him for several seconds, pulled her hair free, and turned her back. She also dragged the blanket toward herself.

“Don't talk to me.”

Percy opened his eyes fully.

Clara lay at the edge of the bed with her back to him. Even her ears looked angry.

Percy moved closer.

Clara moved away.

Percy approached again. Clara reached the edge of the mattress.

“Clara.”

No answer.

Percy wrapped an arm around her waist.

Clara tried to resist, but Percy pulled her back until she rested against his chest.

“Let go.”

“I'm asleep.”

“You can't pull me while you're asleep.”

“I'm pulling you in my dream.”

Clara tried to turn around. Percy moved first, brought his face close to her hair, and left a small kiss just behind her ear.

Clara went completely still.

One second.

Two.

Then her ears turned bright red. She pulled the blanket over her head at once.

Percy began to laugh.

Clara's voice came from beneath the blanket.

“That's unfair.”

“What did I do?”

“You're cheating.”

Percy's laughter grew.

“Heheheh.”

“Don't laugh.”

“You started it.”

“I held your hair under your nose!”

“You disturbed me while I was defenseless.”

“You were awake!”

“You can't prove that.”

Clara poked her head out from beneath the blanket.

“You're talking.”

Percy fell silent.

Clara looked victorious.

Percy closed his eyes and began pretending to snore.

Clara grabbed the pillow and pressed it into his face.

At that moment, the door opened.

Charlotte and William entered.

Both stopped.

Charlotte looked at the pillow pressed over Percy's face, then at Clara.

“Did we come at a bad time?”

Clara pulled the pillow away. “No.”

Percy drew a deep breath. “She was trying to kill me.”

Clara turned on him at once. “You can't call everything death just because you died once.”

William observed them for several seconds.

“The probability of mortal danger was below three percent.”

Percy looked at him. “William.”

“What?”

“You're supposed to take your friend's side.”

“I take the side of numerical evidence.”

Clara smiled triumphantly. Percy grimaced.

“All of you turned out to be traitors.”

Charlotte approached the bed.

“How are you?”

“I'm fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Clara cut in. “He tried to get out of bed this morning.”

Percy looked betrayed. “I did get out.”

“Your grandfather caught you after two steps.”

“I would have walked if he hadn't caught me.”

Holar's voice came from outside the door.

“You were falling.”

Percy looked toward the door.

“Grandpa, listening to private conversations is rude.”

“You're shouting.”

Holar's footsteps receded.

William adjusted his glasses.

“I need to recalculate the probability that you can walk.”

Percy looked at him. “You too?”

“Especially me.”

Charlotte held a hand over Percy's chest and spread her Orin with great care.

His heartbeat was steady. His breathing was regular. His Core was stable.

But when she approached the flame circulating deep within his chest, Charlotte's Orin withdrew on instinct.

Her expression changed.

Percy noticed. “What happened?”

“Your new flame.”

Clara grew serious as well. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

Charlotte tried again. This time, she thinned her energy into a much finer layer and observed the flow surrounding Percy's veins without touching them.

The flame did not attack.

But it noticed foreign Orin approaching.

It seemed to be asleep.

Still vigilant.

“It won't let me in,” Charlotte said.

Percy frowned. “Who?”

“The fire inside you.”

Percy looked at his chest. “Like Blaze?”

“More ill-tempered than Blaze.”

Percy thought for a few seconds.

“Wonderful.”

Clara stared at him. “Why is that wonderful?”

“I have a second friend now.”

William replied, “Your fire is obstructing the healer trying to examine you.”

“Friendship takes time.”

Charlotte drew a deep breath.

“This is exactly what I'm talking about.”

Percy looked at her. Her voice had changed.

“I couldn't do anything while you were dying.”

The last trace of comedy left the room.

Clara turned toward Charlotte. William did not speak.

Percy watched her for a long time.

Charlotte continued.

“You told me I would become a healer. You told me I would protect people. But while you died in front of me, I only watched.”

“Charlotte...”

“Don't tell me I'm seven.”

Percy's mouth closed.

Charlotte did not look away.

“It won't happen again.”

“What won't?”

“I won't allow someone to die in front of me.”

Percy's expression softened.

“You can't guarantee that.”

“I will.”

“Charlotte.”

“If you can do the impossible, so can I.”

Percy remained silent for a moment, then smiled faintly.

“I didn't do it.”

Charlotte frowned.

Percy touched his chest.

“This saved me.”

Then he looked at Clara.

“And they waited.”

He turned to William.

“You came too.”

Then he looked back at Charlotte.

“I wasn't alone.”

Charlotte's eyes filled, but she did not cry.

“Still, if you want to become a better healer, do it. Become even better than me.”

Charlotte gave a faint smile. “You're not a healer.”

“I use Absolute Heal.”

“That does not make you a healer.”

Percy's face fell. “Why not?”

Charlotte set her bag beside the bed and took out a thick anatomy book.

Percy looked at its thickness, then at Charlotte.

“You didn't bring that for me, did you?”

“No.”

Percy relaxed.

Charlotte placed the book in her own lap.

“I'm going to study.”

His relief turned to surprise.

Charlotte opened the cover.

“Anatomy. Orin circulation. The nervous system. Core injuries. Intervention after cardiac arrest. I'm going to learn all of it.”

William raised the two books in his hand.

“These are advanced healer theory and battlefield intervention.”

Charlotte looked at him. “When did you buy those?”

“When you said you would train harder.”

“I said that five minutes ago.”

“I was near the bookstore.”

Percy looked at William.

“Why were you carrying advanced healer books while coming to visit me?”

William paused.

“Probability.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. Clara giggled.

Charlotte closed the book and looked at Percy.

“Next time, I'll be the one who brings you back from the edge of death.”

Percy saw the determination in her eyes. It was not the look of someone preparing to attack in an arena.

It was the look of someone who would not run.

Percy extended his hand. Charlotte took it.

“Next time, I won't die,” Percy said.

Charlotte tightened her grip.

“I don't trust your promise.”

Percy stared at her. “Why does no one trust me?”

Clara, William, and Charlotte answered together.

“Because we know you.”

Percy looked at all three of them, lay back, and pulled the blanket over his head.

“I'm sleeping.”

Clara pulled the blanket down.

“Liar.”

Percy closed his eyes. “I died.”

Charlotte opened her book again.

“If you keep using that excuse, I'll come examine you every day.”

Percy opened one eye. “For how long?”

“For the rest of your life.”

Percy considered that for several seconds.

“I'm healed.”

Clara burst out laughing. The corner of William's mouth curved. Charlotte laughed as well.

But she did not close her book.

After a while, Percy truly closed his eyes. Clara lay beside him again. William took a seat near the window and began reading one of the subjects Charlotte intended to study.

Charlotte listened to Percy's steady breathing.

Only a few days earlier, that breath had stopped completely.

At the time, she had only been able to watch.

She would never merely watch again.

Percy had told her she would become a healer.

For the first time, Charlotte truly believed it too.

She would become a healer.

Not merely someone who closed wounds.

Someone who stood in death's path when it came.

And one day...

Death would be forced to retreat when it saw Charlotte.