Lyon leaned forward, curiosity etched across his face, "Uncle Minx, have you ever heard of the cloaked healer?"
Minx's red eyes glinted with a trace of acknowledgment, "Ah, the rumors about her have brushed against my ears, like fleeting shadows in the moonlight. A cloaked healer, they say, with skills that dance on the edge of magic and medicine."
Lyon's gaze intensified, "Do you know anything about her, Uncle Minx? Anything that might help me find her?"
Minx chuckled, a sound that carried a mix of amusement and cynicism, "Finding a cloaked healer, my dear blank sheet, is like chasing whispers in the wind. But," he paused, his tone taking a sly turn, "I've heard tales of a healer who, despite possessing extraordinary talents, asks for a meager price for her services. A foolish endeavor, if you ask me. Why wield such power for the benefit of others when you could grasp the world in the palm of your hand?"
