As he brought the cup of water to his lips, Nico's mind processed his aunt's words.
Leon was here in the hospital.
'Is it because of his wounds? Or did he come to visit me?' Nico's expression turned worried.
If it was the former, he feared that the half-blood had suffered a nasty injury during their clash against the White Cobras.
If it was the latter though, he had nothing to worry about.
For what felt like a trillion years, the brown-haired boy waited - albeit restlessly, awaiting news of his friend. Cynthia, who noticed Nico's anxiety, placed a comforting arm on his leg and rubbed it soothingly.
It was only then her son relaxed.
A minute later, the clank of a door opening spread through the austere room. Nico perked up and snapped his neck towards the egress. He discovered two figures striding through the door, one composed, the other depressed and forlorn.
"Leon!" Nico cried out, noticing how his fiery-haired friend walked with a distinct limp. Bandages covered various parts of his body, and his left arm hung by his side in a sling.
Yet, what pained the brown-haired boy the most was the grief in the half-blood's eyes. Grief and endless amounts of blame.
"Nico…" the burly boy's voice rang out like the whine of an injured dog. Tears brimmed in his eyes threatening to overflow and spill. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything! It's all my fault! All of it. Henry, h-he, h-he…" Leon stuttered, unable to complete his sentence.
"I know…" Nico replied softly. A pained grimace took hold of his features before he sighed and stared at the half-blood intensely.
"It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself for the folly of others."
"B-But, b-but…" the redhead clenched his fist.
"Leon!" Nico's voice rose in volume despite himself. "This damn world is at fault, not you! You're just unfortunate to be dealt the card of being born a half-blood. Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, get stronger and more powerful. Enough that you can impose your own laws with no fear! And usher in a new era for half-bloods, should that be your wish…" his voice softened near the end, seeing his friend's eyes tremble.
As he gazed into the sudden fire that burst in Nico's eyes, Leon stood rooted to the spot. His companion's words echoed repeatedly in his mind.
He saw a clear way forward for the first time.
"The kid's right, you know…" Beverly couldn't help but pipe up.
Cynthia smacked her best friend on the arm, "Why'd you have to ruin the moment?!"
As Leon shifted his head and stared at the female duo, Nico slumped back and addressed his muscular friend, "The woman dressed in red robes is my Aunt. Don't mind her. She can be a bit of a busybody sometimes,"
The half-blood's gaze paused on the scythe on Beverly's robe and his eyes involuntarily widened. He took an unconscious step back.
Nico chuckled, "The woman to her right is my beautiful mother." he sent a warm smile toward Cynthia, to which the silver-haired lady promptly returned.
"N-Nice to meet you," Leon bowed shakily.
"My, my. Look how well-mannered your friend is, honey." Cynthia chuckled. "Please raise your head, dear."
Leon complied and cracked a sheepish grin. He stood awkwardly unsure of what to do.
Cynthia's eyes softened, "Come, you must be hungry. Let's leave the busybody and Nico alone." She held out her arm to the half-blood.
Leon just stood there slack-jawed. Not at her words, but her actions.
Did the woman not care that he was a half-blood, he wondered inwardly.
"Go on, Leon," Nico chuckled at his mother's actions. "She won't bite."
Reluctantly, the burly half-blood slid his arm through Cynthia's one. The silver-haired lady sent him a beaming smile in response.
"Thank you for being my son's friend," she whispered in Leon's ear as they made their way towards the door.
Leon's eyes widened for the third time in as many minutes. "N-No, no. I should be the one thanking you for raising such an upstanding son," he hurriedly replied.
Cynthia giggled.
The duo promptly exited the room.
Nico hid a soft smile at his mother's antics. He momentarily forgot about the crushing weight on his chest.
Unfortunately, the pain and grief came flooding back a moment later. He took a shallow breath and tried not to wince.
Beverly sat on a chair by the bed, her posture relaxed, one leg propped over the other. Staring at her figure, Nico resolved himself inwardly and opened his mouth to speak.
However, before he could, the door opened once again, ushering two people inside.
Both were dressed in white uniform symbolic of the attire worn by the hospital's staff.
The doctor at the helm had an aged face with thin streaks of grey hair, and a pair of round glasses covering half his face. A clipboard with a pen lay in his hands.
Behind him, the nurse silently moved to the patient's bedside to monitor the machines.
Her kind eyes examined Nico's figure briefly before she turned her focus on the life-support machine.
The Doctor cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. "I apologise if we came at a bad time. I just thought it prudent to check up on you." The older man's eyes scanned Nico's figure briefly before he spoke in a professional tone, "How are you feeling? Any pains? Dizziness? Nausea?"
Nico blinked, his mind registering the doctor's words. "Ah, uhm, no. I feel perfectly normal. In fact, I feel even better than that," he flexed his body and found that somehow it felt like his body was brimming with greater power.
Where that extra strength had come from, he did not know.
Nico's eyes narrowed.
A hint of a smile appeared on the doctor's face. He wrote a few notes on the clipboard, before shifting his gaze toward the nurse. The woman understood the silent question in his eyes, "The reading is normal, and so is his blood pressure."
The older man nodded, his pen travelling across the clipboard a few more times. Done, he took a deep breath and stared his brown-haired patient in the eye, his face turning grim.
"When you arrived here in the hospital, you were quite the sight. I think most people assumed you had passed away based on how grotesque your wounds were. Anyway, after a quick examination, I determined the only way we could save your life was through the use of mana. I'm… terribly sorry, youngster." The doctor bowed his head, his expression remorseful.
'Huh, so that's why my body's good as new. It also explains the sudden extra strength I feel,' Nico mused to himself after a moment of shock.
Now that his body had come into contact with mana, the difficulty in forming a core during the Awakening Ceremony had risen drastically.
Hopefully, any traces of the mythical energy would fade quickly. However, the chances were slim.
'Just my luck.'
"It's fine…" he sighed. "Thank you for doing everything in your power to save me." Nico smiled sadly at the doctor, the feelings in his heart contrary to what he had said.
Alas, it seemed he wasn't fated to die anytime soon.
His suffering would still go on.
…Perhaps with no end in sight.
Beverly showed no reaction to the healer's words. Her face was still impassive and indifferent as ever when surrounded by strangers.
The doctor nodded. Although his patient was physically fine, he worried about the boy's mental state. Just the few whispers he had heard of what the boy experienced, caused him to feel endless pity for the young lad.
"If nothing untoward happens, we will discharge you tomorrow. You'll be staying the night as we would like to make sure the potion has fully dissolved into your body." The aged doctor informed his patient.
Nico just nodded in response.
The two white-clad healers then bid Nico and Beverly goodbye, before briskly striding out of the room. They had other patients to attend to.
Silence filled the space after the duo left. Nico resumed staring at his aunt as he mustered up the courage to enunciate his next words.
A stray breeze ruffled her ginger hair. She idly examined her nails.
"Aunt Beverly, I… I found the symbol of the ancient Empire of crafters." The boy's voice resounded grimly.
Beverly flinched.