The Sage chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down Willow's spine. 'You have a keen eye, Willow. Though, I must say, it would be a shame if you were to succumb to such a pedestrian thought. I simply have a knack for healing, nothing more.' He smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that seemed to hold a hidden meaning.
Willow couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. He knew about his own powers, about the intricate dance of mana that allowed him to heal, but the Sage's healing defied logic. It was as if he was drawing power from an unknown source, a source that he couldn't comprehend.
A shiver of fear ran down his spine. He had been taught that power was dangerous, that it could corrupt, warp, and twist. The Sage, with his unnaturally fast healing, was a walking paradox, a contradiction to everything Willow believed in.
