2025-07-03 10:27:15HEALING SKILLS
Chapter 2: Lightbringer’s First Scar The sun didn't rise. It burst its way into the world, flaming across the skyline of Amara as though it had something to prove. Kael awoke to it slapping his eyes on the dorm window. His arms and legs were sore, not sore, but full of memory. It hummed like hornets behind his eyes, that weird post-reincarnation noise. Names that he had not known five minutes before were like childhood echoes. Locations, scents, food, even bullies all loaded like someone rammed an entire life into his head with a crowbar. The humming died away. He arose. Looked around. Children were crawling out of their bunks, like sleepy ants, and stretching and grumbling, and going off to the hall. He did not belong to them. Not really. He recalled them, all right, but without any affection. Just familiarity. The contrast between being familiar with a street and having a street as home. Kael went to the window and looked out. Amara. The name fell like thunder in his head. Steel towers studded with glowing runes. Transport glyphs flying across the sky. Markets with magical goods, magic vending machines, streetlights powered by mana, a combination of magic and technology so beautiful it was like living in the stone age compared to his former world. Here magic was not a secret. It was infrastructure. It bled into all the wires, into all the walls, into all the sidewalks. Tech had not displaced the arcane, it had wedded it. And the outcome was a city that seemed a dream a half a millennium too soon. The dorm emptied behind him. Kael cracked his knuckles and asked the air, "I'm up. You going to start actually telling me shit now?" A pause. Then the cool, medical purr of the System came back to his skull: First get food. You're a child. Children need energy. Eat. Kael rolled his eyes so hard it nearly counted as cardio. His fists clenched at his sides — not from rage, but from a nearly religious desire to punch something smug. But hunger gnawed at his belly. No point arguing with an all-knowing parasite when your stomach was louder than your pride. He descended to the cafeteria. The orphanage — sterile, plain, functional — was more of an institution than a home. Sterilized tiles. Clean magic ambient-light panels. Just enough warmth to stop you from shivering, not enough to pretend someone loved you. He passed kids he technically “knew.” No smiles exchanged. No waves. Just shared trauma disguised as routine. Downstairs, the smell of cooked eggs and fresh bread slapped him with a wave of déjà vu. Behind the counter, Maren was plating up breakfast. She was a woman who moved like time didn't touch her. Apron on. Hair braided. A presence that was more elemental than maternal. From the fragments Kael had received, she was the orphanage’s chef and unofficial therapist. Her food had the strange quality of making pain feel like seasoning. She looked up. Smiled. Handed him a plate: eggs, sausage, bread. Simple. Perfect. He nodded. No words. Just a quiet thanks behind the eyes. He sat near the window, forked the food into his mouth, and sifted through his new life’s memories like they were classified files. Aside from Maren, only one other face burned bright in his mental landscape: Elira — the head of the orphanage. The woman who brought Kael in when he was little. His new world’s mother figure. Kael murmured, voice barely louder than the window's hum, "So?" Host. Wipe your mouth. Napkin, right side. "...Are you fucking serious?" He glanced around. No one heard him. Thank every god. He wiped his mouth like an angry aristocrat. "Happy now?" Delighted. Now that your memories have fully aligned, we can begin your growth. Focus on your healing capabilities. Kael sighed. "Just spit it out. What do I need to do?" To level your skills, you must use them. Your Heal ability requires actual healing. Each use grants experience to both the skill and your overall level. Simple. "How many heals per level?" A blue screen materialized in front of him. ━━━━━━━━━━━ Heal [Level 0] [0/100 EXP] [Common] [Active] Restore 50 HP. Mana Cost: 25 MP ━━━━━━━━━━━ You gain 15 EXP per successful heal, due to your current Title buff. 100 EXP levels the skill. Same applies to your base level. Kael leaned back. "So one good bruise equals a level someday. Good to know. But... wait. You said something about killing monsters, too?" Correct. Your other skills — hand-to-hand, projectile mastery — still contribute. Healers level slower overall. But your hybrid talents bridge the gap. Dungeon monsters will provide additional growth later. He blinked. "You mean those nasty bastards that crawl out of the rift zones?" Yes. Filthy things. You’ll meet them soon enough. And murder them gloriously. Kael blinked at the unexpected venom in the System’s tone. If it had a face, it was probably sneering. Before he could dig deeper — “Ouch!” A high-pitched yelp behind him. Kael turned. One of the smaller kids had tripped, cracked his knee open. Blood. Tears. Whimpering. The System growled with glee: Chop chop, host. Go heal the runt. Kael hesitated. “If I heal him and someone sees, won’t I be outed as awakened?” You had a cold this week. Lucky coincidence. Many awakeners manifest after illness. You’ll blend. He stood. Walked. Halfway there, he frowned. “Wait… how the fuck do I use the skill?” Point. Focus. Say the word ‘Heal.’ Distance limit is ten meters. You’re welcome, oh great walking migraine. Kael’s fingers curled into fists. “So I could’ve healed him from my chair. Thank you for being the most helpful voice in my head since schizophrenia.” Too late. Everyone’s staring. Embrace the drama. He knelt beside the sobbing kid. Didn’t know his name. Didn’t matter. Hand out. Focus. “Heal.” A yellow light flowed out of the palm of Kael, and enveloped the boy in a shroud of golden cotton. The wound disappeared. Disappeared as though it had never been. [+15 EXP: Heal] A bell rang in the head of Kael. Not only heard--felt, as light bends behind his eyes. He gazed heavenward. Silence. All the children at the cafeteria were looking. Awe. Confusion. Then the grown-ups saw. Maren flounced out of the kitchen. The motherly smirk was gone. Her eyes were keen. Her voice was steelier than steel. “Kael. Now with me. We see Elira.” Kael followed. No resistance. His chest was filled with excitement and anxiety as old lovers meeting at a funeral. Elira. His name hurt him in his breast. Her memories bound her to something warm and ancient not only a woman, but a pillar. They came to the door. With her name in runes over it. Maren did not knock. She kicked the door open. Elira sat slumped at her desk inside. Eyes closed. Light snores. She had papers plastered to her cheek. Bang! The palm of Maren struck the wood. Elira awoke with a gasp of choking, and floundered wildly, scattering files. There was Kael. Speechless. The impeccable Elira, found dribbling over papers. “M-Maren?” Elira blinked her eyes, and saw Kael. Her cheeks grew red as mana wine. “K-Kael…!” Maren interrupted the embarrassment: The boy woke up. That silenced Elira. Fast. She stared at Kael. Calculating. Serious. Is that so? Maren nodded her head once. Then to Kael: Show her. He concentrated on Elira. “Heal.” The flare of gold light came once more. No wound. No effect. But the magic was there. Elira stared. She dashed to her drawer, pulled out a crystal ball and thrust it out. Put your hand to this. Apply the skill once more.” Kael obeyed. This time, a hologram appeared in the air - everyone could see it. ━━━━━━━━━━━ Name: Kael Age: 8 Class: Healer Level: 0 ━━━━━━━━━━━ That’s a mana stone, the System whispered. Embedded with inspection magic. Elira and Maren stared, breath caught. Then Elira stood. Walked over. And hugged him. No warning. Just arms. Warm and tight. “Congratulations, Kael.” His muscles locked. Then softened. He hugged back. It didn’t last long. But it echoed. Elira pulled away and smiled — tired, proud, something maternal laced with guilt. “Now that you’ve awakened, you’ll enter the Awakeners’ Academy when you turn twelve. Until then, we’ll prepare you. You’re not alone.” She stamped a paper. Handed it to him. “This goes to the orphanage’s recovery center. You’re officially a junior healer now. Train there. Learn control.” Kael wanted to say something profound. Thank her. Cry. Laugh. But instead, he nodded. He stepped out of the office. Paper in hand. Path clear. Direction: forward. Toward the healing wing. Toward whatever came next. ⟡⟡⟡
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chapter 19
Chapter 19: Benefits Kael leaned against the cold metal wall outside the imposing chamber, the faint hum of machinery vibrating through the floor beneath his feet. He had been waiting for nearly an hour, a single minute stretching into a lifetime, the silence beyond the thick door pressing against his eardrums like liquid lead. He glanced at the golden nameplate affixed to the door, reading it again and again, almost expecting the letters to change, to give him some clue as to what was happening inside. ‘I am a bit curious,’ Kael murmured, voice barely above a whisper, his breath fogging in the sterile air. ‘Why did they react like that when all I did was cure some sort of ailment? Can’t the other healers do that?’ The System’s voice resonated softly in his mind, precise, clinical, yet with a hint of amusement. Your Purify skill cures all diseases and ailments, without exception. The closest others can achieve is a partial cure, or at bes
chapter 18
Chapter 18: SaintThe battlefield stank of ozone and burnt mana. Smoke curled lazily through the air, the aftermath of a hundred clashing skills.One of the armored tanks jogged up to Kael, his massive boots crunching debris. “That was insane! I didn’t know healers could just… erase damage like that!”Kael blinked. The man’s awe felt foreign to him. Compliments were something he’d never learned to digest properly.In the military, all he ever got was a cold nod and a curt good job. That used to be enough. Efficiency had been his only love back then.Now, surrounded by teammates whose grins were almost worshipful, Kael felt something unfamiliar tug at his lips — a smile. Small. Reluctant. Real.Then his communicator rang.A flat, piercing tone.His expression instantly curdled. “Seriously?”Everyone else saw his irritation and winced with sympathy. They knew what that ring meant.“Good luck, man
chapter 17
Chapter 17: Dungeon Collapse“Is this report true?”“Yes,” Gareth said, posture rigid, tone ironed flat. The man looked like he’d swallowed a steel rod and decided to digest it out of duty. His eyes didn’t move, not even when the elders started murmuring among themselves, whispering as if they feared the walls might be listening.The room was one of those administrative tombs: high ceiling, sterile light, a crucifix of bureaucracy on every desk. Vivum City’s Justice Committee sat like statues in their chairs, eyes flicking from screen to screen, each image showing the same impossible thing — Kael, alive, dust-covered, and leading survivors out of a collapsed building as if the world had politely waited for him to be done.“After the explosion,” Gareth continued, “Kael emerged with all the hostages intact. Only one casualty — the bomber himself.”The elders didn’t blink. It was rare to impress people whose souls had been replaced by protocol, but even they weren’t immune to miracles.O
chapter 16
Chapter 16: EmergencyThe phone sang like a guillotine bell.A single shrill ring, slicing through Kael’s half-hearted peace.“Seriously?” he muttered, glaring at the glowing screen like it had personally declared war on his downtime.He’d barely owned the damn phone for two hours. Two. Hours. And already, the universe—or more specifically, the System’s endless appetite for drama—decided to drag him back to work.Kael groaned, paused the movie streaming across his holographic projector, and thumbed the call open.“Yeah?”“There’s an emergency. We need your healing immediately.”The voice was female, clipped, the kind that had long since stopped saying “please.”Kael blinked, then frowned. “Okay… where?”“A driver should already be waiting. Step outside.”Click.No goodbye. No “thank you, chosen healer of fate.” Just the cold efficiency of authority too used to being obeyed.“Well, fuck you too,” Kael muttered, dragging himself out of his chair. He threw on a coat, snagged his boots, a
15
Chapter 15: PoliceKael was running again.Not jogging. Not training.Running like the earth itself was mocking his lungs for daring to breathe. The slums of BB City were nothing but a blur of rust, sweat, and the ghostly shimmer of holographic graffiti flickering between languages no one spoke anymore. His boots slammed the pavement in a rhythm that felt less like exercise and more like a punishment carved into muscle memory.A faint blue hologram blinked beside him.[+1 AGI]It hovered there like an annoying angel who refused to clap when he broke his own record. Kael slowed, stumbling to a halt, bent double with his hands on his knees. His breath sawed through his chest, lungs dragging air like broken machinery.The System’s voice dripped with smug amusement.“That only took ninety laps around the city. Not too bad.”Kael snorted, voice hoarse and sharp. “Yeah, right. I can barely feel my fucking legs.”
14
Chapter 14: Awakened IDA few weeks had crawled by since Kael hit Level 22 and buried himself in the filth and faith of the slums. The air down here always smelled like rusted prayers and damp stone, yet somehow, he’d made it home.Every day felt the same: he woke to the sound of dripping roofs, ate what could barely be called breakfast, opened the cracked doors of the church, healed whoever stumbled in bleeding or broken, blessed the ones too far gone to be saved, then closed up again when the night rats started singing. Rinse, repeat, suffer, survive.There wasn’t anywhere else to go. The moment he’d tried to walk outside the church, every gaze turned sharp, suspicious, reverent, or hungry. People didn’t just look at him; they watched him, like he was some holy artifact that might explode.So he stayed.He made himself a chair—a miserable little throne of scrap wood—and placed it beside the Statue of Gabriel that towered in the center o
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