"Isn't that Benson?"
Damn, I had almost forgotten he existed at this point. Benson, the bully from the orphanage, the one I hated so much for his superiority complex when we were all equally poor and orphaned.
The guy, who I really hope I'm mistaking, lifts his head. His face is covered in bruises, and his clothes are torn. There are a few bleeding wounds, some fresh and others that look older.
"Benson?" Maia asks, then starts running toward him. "Benson, your magical power is dropping rapidly!"
Benson can barely mumble a few words before collapsing into Maia's arms. She cradles his battered face in her hands, trying to gently slap him awake, but there's no response.
"Luke, we have to do something. Come on, lift him up; we need to take him to a healer," she urges me.
