The night had been an unending ordeal for Malcom, marked by the haunting specter of the dream that refused to release its grip on his consciousness. Restlessness had been his only companion, the malevolent figure's ominous words echoing in his mind like a persistent refrain.
Tossing and turning, he had yearned for the embrace of sleep, but it had eluded him like a fleeting phantom. The malevolent presence's proclamation of his impending transformation into a "complete vessel" lingered, a dark cloud obscuring the horizon of his thoughts.
The room, once a sanctuary of respite, had become a prison of endless contemplation. Shadows danced eerily upon the walls, and each creak of the floorboards had seemed to mock his predicament. The weight of his unanswered questions pressed upon him, and he longed for the clarity that morning's light might bring.
As the night's vigil persisted, Malcom's fatigue deepened, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. But even in the throes of weariness, sleep remained elusive, a goal that remained just beyond his reach. He continued to grapple with the enigma of his dream, searching for answers in the labyrinth of his thoughts.
Despite the relentless turmoil of his mind, there came a fleeting moment when sleep, like a gentle seductress, managed to claim him for a short respite. His eyelids grew heavy, and his thoughts began to blur as he succumbed to the allure of slumber.
Yet, this fleeting respite was not destined to last. With the arrival of morning's light, a new disturbance disrupted Malcom's fragile reprieve. The intrusion was none other than Lord Minato, a presence that shattered the fragile cocoon of sleep that had briefly enveloped Malcom
Malcom stirred from his bed, feeling the need to freshen up and cast off the lingering shadows of his dreams.After freshening up, a mundane yet unfortunate reality soon became evident—he didn't possess enough clothes, and the attire he had worn the previous day was in need of washing.
Malcom's circumstances, shaped by his modest means, became a palpable reminder of the challenges he faced. He hesitated, grappling with the practical dilemma of how to address his need for fresh clothing.
Just as the weight of his predicament began to settle upon him, a ray of hope pierced the uncertainty. Lord Minato, perceptive as ever, had noticed Malcom's hesitation. With a warm and understanding smile, Lord Minato spoke, "Malcom, I've already taken care of one of your outfits. It's washed and ready for you. And today, we'll go to the nearby shop to get you some new clothes."
Gratitude welled up within Malcom as he realized the extent of Lord Minato's kindness. He couldn't help but express his appreciation. "Thank you so much, Lord Minato," Malcom said earnestly. "You've been incredibly kind to me."
Lord Minato's response was accompanied by a twinkle in his eye, a sign that his affection for Malcom was growing. "I take good care of my student," he replied with a hint of pride. Yet, in those words, there was an unspoken truth—Lord Minato had come to like Malcom not just as a student but as a person or maybe even a son.
Quickly, Malcom donned the freshly washed clothes and followed Lord Minato to the kitchen. Breakfast was served as usual, a comforting routine that brought a sense of normalcy to their lives. They all gathered around the table, their camaraderie evident as they enjoyed their meal.
As was customary, Mia took on the role of feeding Malcom, a gesture of care that had become an endearing part of their daily routine. In this small yet meaningful act, the bond among them continued to deepen, forging connections that transcended the boundaries of teacher and student, of healer and patient. It was a testament to the enduring power of kindness and shared experiences in the face of adversity.
After a hearty breakfast, they all followed Malcom to the tranquil expanse of the backyard. Here, amidst the embrace of nature, Lady Maria took a moment to carefully remove the bandages that had shielded Malcom's right arm. Her experienced hands worked with precision, revealing the vulnerable yet healing limb beneath.
With a gentle and reassuring tone, Lady Maria encouraged Malcom, "Try to move your arm, Malcom." Her words were an invitation to test the progress of the healing, to gauge the extent of the transformation that had taken place.
Malcom nodded, his anticipation palpable as he made an earnest attempt to move his right arm. However, despite his best efforts, the desired movement remained elusive. His brow furrowed with concern, and a cloud of doubt began to shroud his features.
The weight of uncertainty bore down on Malcom as he contemplated the possibility that the healing might not have been successful. His thoughts traveled back to the haunting dream that had foretold his fate as a "complete vessel," a revelation that had cast a long shadow over his hopes.
As the realization sank in, Malcom's expression shifted, his face reflecting the sadness that threatened to engulf him. The prospect that his one and only aim to save his ailing mother was at risk, due to the failure in restoration of his right arm, might be slipping away was a heavy burden to bear.
Yet, in the face of Malcom's growing despondency, Lady Maria's smile remained unwavering. Her eyes sparkled with wisdom and reassurance as she addressed his concerns. "Why are you getting sad, Malcom?" she asked gently, her voice a soothing balm.
With empathy in her tone, Lady Maria continued, "The healing worked perfectly. However, it will take some time, perhaps two to three days, before your arm starts functioning as it should." Her words held the promise of progress, a testament to the intricate process of recovery.
Lady Maria leaned closer to share a more intimate revelation with Malcom. "You see," she explained, "if I had been the one conducting the healing, it would have worked perfectly from the moment it was done. My experience allows for such precision. But Mia is still learning, and her expertise is growing."
In her candid admission, Lady Maria highlighted the differences in experience between herself and Mia. While her own mastery allowed for instantaneous results, Mia's healing required time to fully manifest its effects. It was a testament to Mia's dedication and a reminder that progress, though gradual, was underway.
Malcom's initial disappointment began to yield to a sense of patience and hope. The knowledge that the healing had indeed succeeded provided a foundation upon which he could build his optimism. Lady Maria's words offered him solace, reassuring him that the path to full recovery was not far off.
Lord Minato, never one to shy away from questions, raised an intriguing proposition. Turning to Lady Maria, he inquired, "Why don't you combine your healing abilities with Mia's, Lady Maria? Could it speed up the process for Malcom's arm?"
Lord Minato's suggestion hung in the air, a curious notion that sought to harness the collective power of their healers. His eyes were alight with the spark of inquiry, a testament to his unwavering commitment to Malcom's well-being.
However, Lady Maria's response was less than enthusiastic. She fixed Lord Minato with an annoyed expression, her patience evidently tested. "Who is the experienced healer here?" she retorted, her voice tinged with exasperation. "Shut up and let me do my work. There's no need for a display of intelligence." Her words held a note of authority, a reminder of her mastery in the realm of healing.
Malcom, sitting nearby, observed this exchange with a sense of curiosity tinged with guilt. He couldn't help but wonder why the two individuals he admired most were at odds. Turning to Mia, who sat beside him, he posed the question that had been gnawing at him. "Why are they acting like this?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
Mia, ever the empathetic one, sighed softly before offering an explanation to Malcom. "They had a disagreement," she admitted. "It happened when you weren't waking up after the healing was done." Her words carried a subtle implication, that his unconscious state had been the catalyst for their discord.
Malcom's shoulders sagged with a touch of guilt. He realized that his own predicament had inadvertently caused a rift between the two individuals who had become like family to him.
Despite the tension hanging in the air, Malcom felt compelled to intervene. He could sense the rift growing between Lady Maria and Lord Minato, two people he deeply admired, and he didn't want their disagreement to fester. With a tentative voice, he began to speak, "Maybe..."
But before he could finish his thought, Mia, seated beside him, gently placed a finger over his lips, effectively silencing him. Her eyes met his, filled with understanding, and she shook her head ever so slightly, as if to say, "Not now." Her voice, a soft whisper, carried the weight of wisdom. "Keep quiet, Malcom," she urged. "Sometimes, in the silence, they'll realize how much they care for each other and resolve any misunderstandings on their own."
The argument between Lord Minato and Lady Maria had not subsided, despite Mia's wise counsel to Malcom to stay out of it. They continued to exchange heated words, their voices rising like a storm in the backyard.
Amidst this verbal clash, Malcom's focus shifted to his damaged right arm. The persistent pain was a constant reminder of his limitations. Determination welled up within him as he steeled himself against the discomfort. With painstaking effort, he attempted to move his arm, battling the pain that surged with each small attempt.
In a moment of sheer willpower, Malcom's right arm responded. It lifted ever so slightly, a tiny triumph over the agony that had gripped it for so long. His eyes widened in astonishment at this small but significant movement.
Mia, attentive as always, noticed the subtle change. Her voice rang out, cutting through the argument like a bell, drawing the attention of both Lord Minato and Lady Maria to Malcom's right arm.
Excitement filled Lady Maria's voice as she exclaimed, "Yes!" Her happiness was palpable. "Now, I can add my powers to it, and we can make it work."
Lord Minato joined in the joy, laughing as he chimed in, "But don't overdo it."
Lady Maria's tone shifted from jubilant to annoyed as she retorted, "You just want to worry me, don't you?"
Lord Minato's laughter continued, unabated. "Why would I do that?"
Lady Maria, not one to back down, replied, "How would I know? You're the one doing it."
Mia, acting as the voice of reason, interrupted their playful exchange. "Isn't there something more important you should be focusing on, instead of acting like lovebirds in the middle of a childish fight?"
The realization hit both Lord Minato and Lady Maria like a splash of cold water. They turned their attention to Malcom's slowly improving arm, their cheeks tinged with a subtle blush
With a delicate touch, Lady Maria's fingers met Malcom's right arm. A gentle, verdant aura enveloped his limb, casting a calming light upon the scene. An air of reverence filled the garden as everyone understood the importance of this moment.
Silence settled around Lady Maria, granting her the focus she needed to channel her healing abilities. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, a testament to the immense effort required to mend Malcom's arm. Healing drained her strength and vitality dramatically, but her determination shone through.
Minutes felt like hours as Lady Maria worked her magic. The intensity of her concentration was palpable. In those tense moments, the fate of Malcom's arm hung in the balance.
Then, with a sigh of both relief and exhaustion, Lady Maria proclaimed, "I'm done."
A radiant smile graced Lord Minato's face as he eagerly inquired, "Did it work?"
Lady Maria's response carried the weight of hope fulfilled. "Yes, it worked perfectly."
Malcom asks Lady Maria, "How did you pull it of"
She explained further, her voice tinged with a mix of pride and weariness, "I used my healing ability to trick his body into thinking he never lost his arm in the first place. That's why it will start working right now. Otherwise, it would have taken days for him to regain any movement. He'd have had to learn how to use his arm all over again."
Lady Maria wiped the sweat from her face, revealing the exhaustion that lay beneath her accomplishment