"Hahaha… they got me good." Dalton laughed as he fell helplessly onto his hips, "To think a knight like me would be put behind bars like a scum…"
I batted my eyes away guiltily from Dalton's gaze, something he quickly noticed.
"I see… of course. Why waste resources keeping me alive when there is a far cheaper option right your majesty?"
I neither confirmed nor denied his statement.
His eyes then strayed blankly into the ceiling, trying to think of a way out of his predicament. But within moments he gave up and began laughing yet again.
"Dalton, I will get you out of here." I tried to comfort him. It is partially my fault that he got into this mess. Though if I was honest, I had no idea where to start.
I checked the small confines of my room. The window? No, we were too high. Then the door? No, the guards are probably still waiting outside the gates. There is no way a crippled and a retired knight can defeat them. This room was build like a prison to keep me in, there is no easy escape in sight.
Defeated, I looked at Dalton, and he simply smiled with a forced grin, the same smile young me would use to act brave after a fall. Then he brushed the top of my head with his warm hands, as he would in the past. I remembered back then, Dalton would always praise me for holding back my tears. He says it shows grit and determination or something like that. Perhaps that was what he was trying to demonstrate.
"Thank you, your majesty, but I have already decided. If death is inevitable, then I will die as a physician and as a knight." Dalton said with a forcefully cheery tone.
With that he got back on his feet, reaching for his dropped equipment.
"It's not like I have much longer to live anyways at my age." Dalton jokingly retorted, but I couldn't bring myself to laugh.
With that Dalton crouched beside my feet and casted his arte. A green light enveloped my legs. The nostalgic warmth temporarily relieves the pain. However, as the light faded, my feet remained motionless even as I tried to move it.
Alas, it wasn't enough.
"As I thought. My healing artes can only speed up the natural regeneration process. Your Achilles tendons are not just severed but have been partially removed…" Dalton groaned.
Unlike most physicians in Sillia, Dalton was born with affinity to the wind element instead of the rarer light element. Wind as a support element is used to speed things up, while light is the prefered element for healing. It worked great in the battlefields as wind element magic was faster to apply and required less mana. In the palace, he had light element nurses under his command to aid those with more serious injuries. However, Dalton by himself is incapable of performing such miracles. The Vesterians probably didn't do much research when choosing Dalton as my physician.
I closed my eyes in disappointment. "In the end, it was all for naught… I am sorry Dalton, for dragging you here." I apologized.
Dalton remained silent, with his head hung down low. If the Vesterians allowed him to be accompanied with one of his nurse, perhaps the outcome would have been different. But bringing two Sillians in would only increase the risk of their secret being exposed.
If I was a physician, I would have given up right here. Perhaps, save my energy for a all for nothing escape. But not Dalton. If he stops now he has to accept that he failed as a physician. Furthermore he would prove the Vesterian that even the state of the art Sillian medicine is ineffective in its effect.
Slowly, Dalton raised his head and looked at me with prideful and committed eyes. He took a deep breath before muttering a few words under his breath. His hands then began emanating a holy white glow.
It was light artes! But how?
I sat in awe as the light from his artes radiated throughout the room, even brighter than the afternoon sun. Dalton somehow managed to master such a powerful light arte in such a short time. Without a moment to lose, Dalton rushed back to my aid and continued with my treatment.
The potency of the arte healed my skin as it grilled from the heat, a stark contrast to his gentle wind artes. It felt like electric blades running down my lower leg. I clenched my teeth and stifled my screams to endure the pain.
After about a minute, the light finally dimmed and Dalton lowered his palms, breathless and exhausted.
Again, I wiggled my feet, half-expecting it to fail. This time it responded, albeit weakly.
"Amazing Dalton!" I exclaimed, "I didn't know you could use light artes!"
Dalton didn't reply.
However, as I took my first step outside my study chair, the pain from before shot up from my ankles, nearly sending me on my knees. The tendons must not have properly healed yet. I tried experimenting with shallower and smaller strides, but the pain was the same no matter how I walked.
"Thud!"
Dalton's body suddenly dropped onto the marbled floor like a sag of meat. His pocket watch came loose as it rolled under my bed, beyond his reach. His breath was heavy and his body was limp. "I am sorry your highness, Even though I sold everything, this was the best i could do." he cried, covering his eyes in shame.
I staggered to his aid, grabbing his hand. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed what seemed like black marks on his palms. Did he burn himself with his own artes? No. The light artes should heal such superficial wounds as it formed. Curiously, I rotated his hands only to see a symbol of a serpent eating its own tail branded onto his palms; embers still visible and fresh.
I jolted back. It was her mark...
"Dalton, did you…" I swallowed my words halfway.
The dark merchant. The mother who eats her own child. The cursed deity whose name is only mentioned in text. It was Moloch, the deity of sacrifice.
Dalton nodded. "I am sorry, I was too old she said..." He whimpered weakly, "Even though I sold her my lifespan, this was all she gave."
His mark began glowing a bright red, causing him to cough viciously on his side. The color of his skin started to wash away as his lips turned a pale blue. Flesh around his bone started to shrink, making his skin sag even more than before. At this poing he resembled more of a street beggar than a once proud knight.
It was here where I began to hear a sadistic yet playful laughter, echoing against the walls of the room, like hyenas circling their prey. She's here! I thoughg. My chest started feeling heavy as my heart felt like it wanted to jump out of my ribs. Though I couldn't see her, I knew that I was looking right at her; hovering just above Dalton, probably smiling ear-to-ear.
"She's beautiful." Dalton said while trembling.
His hands reached out almost as if to caress the cheeks of this thing. But just as his hands fully extended, Dalton gasped as he choked on his last breath, and his hands dropped like a stone onto his chest.
And just like that, the laughter and her presence disappeared into thin air, and Dalton laid motionless on the floor.