Wilson was carried into the inn by the mercenaries Maxi hired. The room was arranged and the bed was tidied up faster than expected. The healer friend of Maxi took out his toolkit from under his large sleeves of his robe. He quickly chanted a spell to cleanse the blood off Wilson's body. He put another low grade pill into his mouth to further reduce his pain. He then inserted his nine needles into specific points on different parts of his body. He chanted some words for a long period of time and placed his palms on Wilson's forehead. A white blinding light glowed from the point of contact, enveloping Wilson in its entirety and temporarily blinding the mercenaries. Maxi had long closed his eyes. He knew what was going to happen when the chant was finished. He had experienced it a lot. The healer sat on a chair with a pained and exhausted look on his face. He panted as Maxi went to join him after paying the mercenaries for their labor.
"It is such a pity! Even as a healer, one cannot produce or purchase those life-enhancers…unless you work for those miserable nobles." The healer said shaking his head slightly.
"How intense is the backlash?" Maxi asked.
"It's getting worse with each usage. I'm afraid a time will come when I will die from using healing magic." The healer said as he took a swig from a bottle containing low-grade medicine.
They did not say anything to each other after that as silence ensued. They ate their dinner and took turns watching Wilson for any signs at all. Wilson made no movement and the white light did not completely dissipate until later the next day. Wilson slept peacefully all day and Maxi and His healer friend patiently watched over him day and night. This went on as days turned to weeks.
*************
One month later, Wilson still hasn't woken up. He did not even stir on his bed. He was washed everyday by the old men, sometimes normally and other times, through the use of magic.
"Do you really think the boy will be okay? I'm beginning to have my doubts." Maxi questioned his loyal healer friend.
"Physically, he is completely healed, although he will feel sore for a few days as a result of lying down motionless for so long. But he is still comatose, which means there is a chance that he might die. I prefer not to explain in details. You won't understand!" Maxi shrugged at what his friend said. Details that brought no money bored him all the time. He looked at Wilson's unconscious body and slowly shook his head. This boy's life experience since he got to the city had been tragic. From one issue to another. As he was about to fall into his deep thoughts, the door flung open.
*BANG* *Slash*
"Urgh!" Maxi's head fell off the rest of his body that was still sitting comfortably on the chair, already dead before he could even express his shock.. His healer friend did not have any time to process what just happened before his head rolled on the floor close to Maxi's. Blood splattered from their necks, painting the entire scene red. The raw stench of blood wafted into the air, waking the comatose Wilson. He grunted and tried to stand up but only succeeded in sitting up. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. He took a deep breath and gagged from the strong smell of blood that entered his nostrils. His eyes popped out as he saw his uncle's old friend that had helped him a lot since they met and another old man lying headless in a pool of blood. Wilson vomited everything in his stomach, which was more or less nothing. He felt sick as a loud, demonic voice rang out in laughter.
"Who....who are...you?" Wilson asked in a shaky voice as he frantically looked around in search of the owner of that voice. Unfortunately, he could not see anyone. The dim lamp that served as the only source of light in the room suddenly broke. Wilson shrieked in fear and looked towards he direction of the lamp. He felt the cold, sharp blade of an assassin touch his neck slightly. He squinted his eyes in a bid to let it adjust to the darkness. He saw the glint of pearl-white teeth that grinned at him and jolted in absolute fear and despair when his eyes locked with the assassin's. He knew he was done for. Death was inevitable. Tears rolled down his eyes as he thought about his mother that he had left at the village. He said he was not going to abandon her, but here he was, only a few seconds away from death. Did dying not qualify as him abandoning his mother? How could he let his mother go through such pain all over again? She had already suffered enough pain from him leaving her in the village. No! No matter what, he had to return to her safe and sound. Even if he could not pursue his dream anymore, the best he could do was remain alive for her. And not just remain alive, but to be in as good a physical state as possible. He remembered a particular childhood friend of his who visited the village once. His eyes locked on to the assassin's eyes again with resolve and unwavering determination written on his face. He returned a grin at the assassin.
The assassin was taken aback at the sudden 180-degree change in expression. He suddenly felt a sense of impending doom. He immediately slashed at his victim's neck but his knife was stopped by something. He looked down and saw his victim holding the blade of the knife tightly with his bare hand. Blood dripped from it but he did not let go. Before the assassin could re-strategize, he felt something strong and sturdy hit him down below. A moment of silence passed.
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!" The assassin shouted at the top of his voice and released the knife as he held his crotch and rolled on the floor in intense pain. Wilson looked at the knife the assassin had carelessly released. He gripped the handle tightly and stabbed the assassin's neck countless times as tears streamed down his face. Emotional pain, after all, is not meant to be kept in. He stabbed the assassin, venting his anger, his pain, his vengeance for Dale, Maxi and this old man he had never seen before. He stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, paying no attention to his surroundings.
"STOP RIGHT THERE! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR THE BRUTAL MURDER OF THREE UNIDENTIFIED CITIZENS!" A voice shouted at Wilson, who looked up at his outstretched right hand covered in blood. He then looked at the man who spoke and saw a swordsman in the federal police uniform standing by the door with several men behind him. Wilson slowly stood up from the kneeling position he found himself. He did not notice that he had previously knelt down in order to stab the assassin. As he raised his arms in the air to show his submissiveness, something suddenly clicked in his brain.
'Wait a minute, is that not THAT swordsman from the other day?' Wilson thought to himself and upon taking an even closer look, he realized he was the one. He even seemed to be smiling sinisterly. Wilson knew that there was no way they would release him even if they knew the truth. The swordsman hated him any way. It was not like the swordsman currently clad in police uniform was the righteous type. He was sure to sway in the face of monetary benefits. Wilson knew that some nobles would definitely be after his head. So, he made the only decision he could make at the moment. With a surprising level of speed that far exceeded that of his age mates, he jumped out of the window into the dark, yet bustling streets with the police hot on his heels. Wilson had the premonition that life was about to become extremely hard for him. Discarding those thoughts to the back of his mind, he ran along the streets, dodging through alleys and closed spaces but these men were well trained and did not lose sight of Wilson regardless of his antics.