Consciousness slowly returned to Emile. He opened his eyes only to find himself in a dark room. He reached up to touch his face, but instead his fingers dug into the rough material they used to bandage his head.
Memories consumed his mind all at once. Seeing Emma collapse in a room full of golden flames. Seeing the jagged teeth spin before his eyes, growing closer by the second. Although he was in a trance during his fight, his brain vividly remembered the details he was overlooking at the time.
The inside of the Hollowed's mouth reflected the void, its gums and flesh pitch black. The putrid stench rising from the creature's bowls, a disgusting mix of stomach acids and rotting corpses.
His face still burned from the cuts and he could feel muscles in his face twitch uncontrollably.
'I must be out of soul essence' Emile concluded, otherwise his head would have healed itself already.
'What do I say? Soul? Show me everything you can I guess.'
[Soul Rank: Chosen]
[Soul Saturation: 5/1000]
[Soul Essence: 0/100
[Gift: Breath of Life]
[Description: Accelerate cell growth and division]
[Enhancement: Breath of Life is applied to self]
[Relics: None]
Emile studied the words that appeared in his mind. The information detailing his soul didn't appear last time. His Soul Rank is self explanatory. It's literally the quality of his soul. His saturation was new though and why was it at such a low number?
His soul essence is this world's equivalent of mana. Emile used his soul essence to utilize his gift and it was stuck at zero because anytime any essence was available it would be used to heal his wounds.
Relics were items or tools that souls were able to manifest into reality. The only relic Emile had seen so far was the Wardens earring. Presumably they're very rare.
Emile stopped focusing on his soul's details and raised his eyes to the ceiling above him. He was growing sick of the white marble. Every building and every room, from the floor he walked on to the poles that held lanterns, they were all the same glossy, white rock.
Emile missed wood. The smell of cut grass and pine. How any breeze could carry random smells to his nose, sometimes he'd smell his neighbors breakfast and other times he'd smell Emma's perfume.
This new world was confusing. They had so many incredible things thanks to people's gifts, but also lacked so many commodities the mundane, unmagical world was forced to earnestly create. No electricity, just use these candles that never extinguish. No radio, just read the pamphlets the kingdom's errand boy drops as he flies above.
During his extra training Emile had been thinking about a lot of things. Like the reason why healers are so valuable is not because they're statistically rare, but because the world relies on them exclusively. In a world where your injuries and your diseases can vanish in a matter of seconds, why spend time or resources figuring out how to do it without a healer?
People were tools. At least that's the conclusion Emile came to. Every citizen was forced into military service where they were divided into different classes based on their gifts. Healers were the most valuable, but right below them in terms of importance were the fighters. And healers were only needed to support the fighters, so really a combat specialized gift was the best thing to have.
Humans were crops. Grown to be extracted and eventually served to their ruling kingdom. Emile wasn't sure what happened to the people who had less than desirable gifts, but he assumed it wasn't great.
Lost in thought, Emile eventually fell asleep.
A few hours later a radiant light burst through the window. The light coated Emile's arms and penetrated his eyes, but it came with no warmth. The sun's warmth was another privilege this place lacked.
"Hey! Hey hey hey! Are you okay?" Emma crushed Emile's ribs as she crashed onto his body in a tight embrace.
"Yeah I'm fine. Are you okay? Any brain damage from the lack of oxygen?" Emile asked.
Emma pushed herself off Emile and gave him a dirty look.
"No. I think…"
Emile checked his soul essence and noticed it wasn't zero. He went to pull off his bandages, but Emma stopped him.
"What are you doing?" Emma demanded.
"I'm fine now Emma. Trust me."
Emma slowly unwrapped the hundreds of layers of bandages. Each layer painted a darker red than the last. The final layer stuck to Emile's skin and, without asking, Emma ripped the bandage off.
The burning sensation returned to Emile's face. His face slowly grew numb afterwards. Emile ran his fingers across his face. His skin was smooth apart from a soft layer of fuzz. He felt his hair, or lack thereof, since all he felt was a short layer of tough strands like a toothbrush.
Emma pulled out a wet towel from beside the bed and washed the dried blood off of Emile's face.
"Mr. Clean…." Emma mumbled to herself.
"Emma," Emile interrupted her.
"Sorry! Not Mr.—"
"No not that…" Emile paused, looking for the right words. "I'm leaving next month."
"What? But training doesn't end for another four months."
Emile looked away from Emma and faced the cold light entering through the window.
"What do you mean you're leaving? Where are you going?" Emma asked.
"You know the extra training I've been doing at night?"
"Yeah that's because you're a healer! The kingdom's number one guy! The best of the best!" Emma tried her best to rationalize everything Emile told her.
"The extra training is because I'm leaving early, one month from now."
"Where could you go! There's nothing but deserted sand around us!"
"You know that's not true, we're in the same classes Emma."
"Emile! Where?"
"I don't know Emma. I'm being taken in by the Forerunners. They need a healer."
"And you're just leaving? Just like that. Screw your sister. Screw everything we've been through together. I mean we came to another world and you're just gonna leave!" Emma screamed as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"I don't have a choice Em!" Emile looked into Emma's eyes and yelled. "I don't have a choice…"
Emma grabbed Emile's head and forced him to continue looking at her.
"You have a choice, Emile! We can leave! We can run away! They—"
"And go where!" Emile's voice cracked, "Back to the empty sand dunes? Or to the Black Gates to get eaten? Or how about the Rising Tide? Another place that has a problem with foreigners! We got incredibly lucky to end up where we are. I have to go Em, but you—you have to stay. Please."
Emma's calloused hands loosened around Emile's cheeks. She dropped her hands to her lap and looked away.
"You're gonna die…." Emma's voice was barely audible.
"I'm not gonna die. I heal. Literally."
"Not enough."
"What?"
"You don't heal enough!" Emma yelled.
"Okay well—I mean I don't know, I'll heal better then?"
"How?"
"I don't know Emma! I'll figure it out!"
"Yeah you're definitely dead…probably the first week."
"Emma."
"Maybe even the first day, who knows."
"Thank you so much. I really appreciate your kind words."
Emma wiped the tears from her face and forced herself to smile. A forced smile on a crying face always hurt the most. Emma stretched her arms out and closed her eyes.
Emile sighed in relief. He felt so much better now that he told Emma he had to leave. It had been haunting him for weeks and he wanted to accept it himself before he told Emma. Emile leaned forward into Emma's embrace.
She was warm. She smelled like dried sweat and sulfur, but she was warm. And that was the most comfortable Emile had felt ever since arriving in this new, corrupted world.