The Ashen Healer

Chapter 2

Li Wei, who had a broken arm. He claimed Evans broke it again to fix it wrong, just to sell him more pain pills.

The truth: The bone had set poorly, and Evans had to re-break it to save Li Wei’s arm from being useless forever.

Fatima, who had run out of energy during training. She claimed Evans gave her a pill that made her addicted.

The truth: It was a standard energy pill, but she had taken too many against Evans’s advice.

Each story was a weapon. Each word was a knife.

Evans stopped shouting. His voice was hoarse. He realized something terrifying.

They weren't listening.

The Elders exchanged glances. They nodded slightly to each other. They didn't need to hear the witnesses. They didn't care about the truth. The verdict was already decided before Evans even walked into the room.

This wasn't a trial. It was a play. It was a performance to justify getting rid of him.

Evans slumped forward. The chains felt heavier now. He was alone. In a room of a thousand people, he was completely, utterly alone.

"Enough," Elder Blackwood said. He waved his hand, dismissing the last witness.

The room went silent. The air felt colder.

"Evans," the Elder said. "You have heard the testimony. You have corrupted the sacred art of healing. You have abused your juniors. You have stolen from the sect."

"I..." Evans whispered.

"Stand up to receive your judgment!" the Elder commanded.

Evans tried to stand. His legs were numb from kneeling on the cold stone. He pushed himself up with his shaking hands. He stood, swaying slightly. The heavy chains clinked.

"For your crimes," Elder Blackwood announced, "there is only one punishment. Expulsion."

The crowd murmured, but it wasn't loud. They expected this.

"But," the Elder continued, raising a finger. A cruel smile touched his lips. "We cannot send a criminal into the world with the power of the Azure Cloud Sect. You might hurt others. We must ensure safety."

Evans’s heart stopped. No. They wouldn't.

"Seal his cultivation," the Elder ordered.

From the shadows, an Enforcer stepped forward. He was a tall man, wearing a black mask. His hands glowed with a bright, angry yellow light.

"No!" Evans shouted. He tried to back away, but the chains held him tight. "Please! Take my status! Take my money! Don't take my cultivation! I worked ten years for this!"

Cultivation was life. It was the energy that made them strong, that made them live longer. To lose it was to become less than human in this world.

The Enforcer didn't speak. He moved fast. He placed his glowing palm directly on Evans’s stomach—the center of his energy.

BANG.

It felt like a cannonball hit Evans’s gut.

Pain exploded inside him. It wasn't just physical pain. It felt like something was being ripped out of his soul. He felt his warm energy, his Qi, shattering like glass. The warmth turned to ice. The power drained out of his limbs.

Evans screamed. It was a raw, broken sound.

The force of the blow threw him backward. The chains snapped tight, jerking his arms. He collapsed to the floor.

He tried to breathe, but he couldn't. He retched, coughing up bile and a little bit of blood.

He tried to stand up. He had to stand. He had to show them he was still strong.

He pushed against the floor. His arms shook. He got halfway up.

Then, his knees gave out. He fell face-first onto the stone.

Smack.

For a second, there was silence.

Then, someone in the back giggled.

Then another.

Then, the laughter spread. It started as a ripple and turned into a wave. The disciples were laughing. They were laughing at him.

"Look at him!" someone yelled. "He looks like a squashed frog!"

"So weak!"

"Was he ever really a cultivator?"

Evans lay on the cold stone. The laughter washed over him like dirty water. He closed his eyes. Tears leaked out, mixing with the dust on the floor.

"Enforcers," Elder Blackwood said. "Remove his robes. He is no longer worthy of the Azure Cloud white."

Two more Enforcers stepped forward. They grabbed Evans roughly. They didn't untie the robes; they grabbed the fabric and pulled.

Riiiiiip.

The sound of tearing cloth was sharp. The white healer’s robe, the symbol of his life’s work, was torn from his body. He was left in his thin undershirt and trousers.

The cold air hit his skin. But something else was exposed.

Scars.

Evans’s arms and chest were covered in small scars. Burn marks. Cuts. Discolored patches of skin.

The crowd went quiet for a moment. They stared at the scars.

These were not battle scars. They were experiment scars.

"Look," a disciple whispered near the front. "What is wrong with his skin?"

Evans curled into a ball, trying to hide his arms. Those scars were from testing medicine on himself. When he made a new potion for the disciples, he drank it first to make sure it was safe. When he made a salve for burns, he burned his own arm to test if it worked.

He had hurt himself a hundred times to keep them safe.

Now, they looked at his scars with disgust.

"He is diseased," a girl whispered. It was Sarah, the girl he had saved from fever. She looked at his scars and wrinkled her nose. "He is gross."

Evans felt his heart break. That hurt more than the sealing of his cultivation.

Suddenly, the large doors at the top of the stairs opened. Everyone turned.

A man walked down the stairs. He wore robes of gold and white. He didn't walk; he glided. The air seemed to bend around him.

It was the Sect Master. Master Zhang.

The laughter died instantly. The Elders stood up and bowed. The disciples fell to their knees.

Only Evans remained lying on the floor. He couldn't kneel. He couldn't move.

Master Zhang walked down the steps. He didn't look at the crowd. He walked straight to the center circle. He stopped in front of Evans.

He looked down. His face was beautiful and terrifying. He had no expression. To him, Evans was not a person. Evans was a speck of dust.

"Evans," the Sect Master said. His voice was soft, but everyone heard it. It sounded like bells ringing.

Evans looked up. He saw his own reflection in the Sect Master’s polished boots. He looked broken.

"Master..." Evans croaked. "Please..."

The Sect Master tilted his head. He looked at the torn robes. He looked at the scars. He looked at the shaking, crying boy.

"You have failed," the Sect Master said. "Not just in your conduct. But in your potential."

He leaned closer. The pressure coming from him was immense. It made it hard to breathe.

"The Azure Cloud Sect is a place for dragons," the Sect Master said. "Not for worms."

He stood up straight and turned to the crowd. He raised his voice so everyone could hear the lesson.

"Talent is everything. Power is everything. Kindness without power is weakness."

He pointed a finger at Evans.

"A healer without talent," the Sect Master declared, "is a parasite."

The words hung in the air. Parasite.

The hall erupted. This time, the laughter was louder. It was cruel. It was a release. The disciples were happy it wasn't them. They laughed to show the Sect Master they agreed.

"Parasite!" someone chanted.

"Leech!"

"Get out, parasite!"

Evans looked around wildly. He saw faces he knew intimately.

He saw Jason, whose mother Evans had treated for free for a year. Jason was laughing, pointing a finger.

He saw Elder Miller, who had praised Evans’s tea making last week. Elder Miller looked bored, picking at a fingernail.

He saw the faces of patients whose lives he saved. He saw their eyes.

Some of them laughed. But some of them... some of them looked away. They looked ashamed. They knew the truth. They knew Evans was good.

But they did nothing. They said nothing. They looked at the floor because they were cowards. Their silence was louder than the laughter.

Evans stopped crying. The tears dried up. A coldness settled in his chest. It replaced the heat of his anger.

He realized something.

This place was not his home. These people were not his family.

They were wolves. And he had been the sheep feeding them.

"I am not a parasite," Evans whispered to the cold stone floor. But nobody heard him.

His name was spoken one final time by the herald, but it sounded strange.

"The criminal, Evans, is hereby condemned."

It sounded like they were talking about a dead man.