Zara’s POV

  It had been two days since the council meeting, but the weight of it still lingered in the air like a heavy fog. None of us had been able to shake the tension, the uncertainty of what came next. The city hadn’t erupted into chaos, not yet, but the feeling of something brewing beneath the surface was impossible to ignore. The new restrictions had come down swiftly after the council meeting, a series of policies meant to keep magicals ‘in check.’ Public use of magic was now heavily monitored, with increased patrols in magical districts. Certain magic—deemed ‘too aggressive’ or ‘unpredictable’—had been outright banned. Even registered magicals were required to report any significant use of power to the authorities, adding yet another layer of control over their lives. The Sovereign Order had wanted more, but for now, this was what they had won. And it was more than enough to tighten the noose.

  Naja had stopped by unannounced earlier in the evening, a small bag slung over her shoulder, carrying herbs and bandages from the hospital. She’d claimed she was just checking in, but I knew her too well. She had a purpose. She always did.

  Now, she stood in my kitchen, sleeves rolled up, as if preparing for battle.

  “The council meeting had left us all exhausted.” The weight of the city’s future, of magicals’ futures, still pressed heavily on my chest, but I knew we couldn’t dwell on it. Not yet. We had more work to do.

  Malrick sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long gone cold. His shoulders were tense, his eyes locked on the wood grain as if it held the answers to all his questions. Across from him, Kage leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his usual brooding silence heavier than usual.

  Naja stood at the sink, rolling up her sleeves as she turned to face Malrick. “Alright, Ricky, we need to talk about your magic.”

  Malrick stiffened. “I know.”

  “You’re strong,” she continued, stepping closer. “You’ve already figured out how to use it to stop someone in their tracks. Now I want to show you another way to use it—to heal.”

  His eyes flickered with hesitation, but I could see the curiosity buried beneath the uncertainty. “Heal? With blood magic?”

  Naja nodded. “Blood isn’t just power, Malrick. It’s life. And if you can manipulate it, you can stop someone from bleeding out, help wounds close faster, even stabilize someone long enough for a healer like me or a doctor to take over.”

  Kage exhaled, his arms still crossed. “You think that’s a good idea?” His voice was careful, measured, but I knew him well enough to hear the concern beneath it. “Teaching him to do something even more unnatural with it?”

  “I think it’s better than him only knowing how to stop people in their tracks and to make random shapes in the air,” Naja countered, her silver-lit hands glowing faintly in the dim light. “If he’s going to have this ability, he needs to know both sides of it. He needs balance.”

  Malrick let out a slow breath. “How do we start?”

  Naja smiled. “Come with me to the hospital. I want to see if you can help.”

  I exchanged a look with Kage. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he also knew Naja was right. Malrick needed this. Needed to see that his magic wasn’t just something to fear, but something that could be used for good.

  Kage sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong—”

  “I’ll handle it,” Naja assured him.

  I turned to Malrick, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “This could be good for you, Ricky. You don’t just have to be the weapon they think you are.”

  He met my gaze, something unreadable flickering in his expression. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  Naja grinned. “Good. Because I already have a patient in mind.”

  Malrick’s POV

  I barely had time to process what I had agreed to before Naja grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the house. I wasn’t sure whether she was excited to teach or just determined to keep me from changing my mind. Probably both.

  “Come on, Ricky, we don’t have all day,” she said, her grip surprisingly strong for someone smaller than me.

  The night air was crisp as we stepped into the quiet streets. The city had changed since the council’s decision. More guards patrolled the roads, their gazes lingering a little too long when they spotted anyone with visible magical traits—glowing veins, silver hands, horns, or eyes that shone in the dark. Posters calling for more regulations, more restrictions, had been plastered along the walls. Even in the darkness, I could feel the weight of it all pressing down on me.

  Naja didn’t slow, didn’t even seem to notice the shift in the city’s atmosphere. She just started talking.

  “Alright, before we get to the hospital, you need to understand something basic—human anatomy. You know, the system you just used to completely freeze a man’s body? You can do more than just stop someone from moving. You can guide blood where it needs to go, slow it down, speed it up, stop a wound from bleeding out. You could even, in theory, restart a failing heart.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  I nearly tripped over my own feet. “Wait, what?”

  She glanced at me, smirking. “It’s not that different from what you already do. You’re manipulating the blood in someone’s body. It’s just about precision. Right now, you act on instinct. But if you understand how the body works, you can focus your magic where it’s actually needed.”

  I swallowed hard, the idea settling into my mind like a stone sinking in water. I had spent so long fearing my power, thinking of it as a weapon. But what if she was right? What if it didn’t have to be?

  The hospital was quieter than usual, the late hour thinning the usual rush of patients. The dim lighting in the corridors cast elongated shadows against the walls, and the scent of antiseptic filled the air. Naja strode ahead with purpose, weaving through the halls like she belonged there—which, of course, she did. I kept close behind, my heart hammering in my chest.

  “Alright, first lesson, Ricky,” Naja said, stopping outside a patient room. “You’re here to learn, not to panic. Got it?”

  I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Yeah.”

  She pushed open the door, revealing a middle-aged man lying on the bed. His leg was bandaged heavily, but I could see the red seeping through. A doctor stood beside him, pressing down on the wound with sterile cloths while muttering instructions to a nearby nurse. His hands were steady, but the deep crease in his forehead told me he knew the bleeding wouldn’t stop on its own.

  “This is Mr. Callen,” Naja introduced, rolling up her sleeves. “His wound reopened after surgery. We’re going to fix that. And you’re going to help.”

  I hesitated. “I don’t know how.”

  “I’ll guide you,” Naja said, her voice softer now. “Close your eyes. Feel for his blood like you did before, but don’t command it—coax it.”

  I inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly as I reached out with my magic. I could sense the pulsing flow beneath his skin, chaotic and unstable, spilling where it shouldn’t be. My first instinct was to seize control, to force it still—but I stopped myself.

  “Good,” Naja encouraged. “Now, imagine guiding it back to where it needs to be. No force, just direction.”

  I focused, gently urging the blood back into the vessels, pushing the wound to close rather than forcing it shut. Slowly, the red soaking through the bandages dulled, and the flow stabilized. The doctor’s eyes widened slightly as they placed a hand over the wound.

  Naja grinned. “See? Told you you could do it.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. For the first time, my magic hadn’t felt like something destructive. It had felt… useful.

  Naja clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Ricky, I think you just found your calling.”

  Before I could process that, she was already dragging me away from the patient’s bedside. “Come on, there’s more to see.”

  I barely had time to mumble an apology to the doctor before I was pulled down the hallway. Naja led me through the twisting corridors of the hospital, her energy unwavering despite the late hour. “You’re going to meet the people who keep this place running.”

  First, she introduced me to Dr. Hensley, a wiry man with sharp eyes and an exhausted expression. “This is the kid?” he asked, eyeing me skeptically. “You sure he can handle this, Naja?”

  “He just stabilized a patient’s bleeding with magic,” she said, grinning. “I’d say that’s a yes.”

  Dr. Hensley gave me a long look, then shrugged. “Well, we could use all the help we can get.”

  Next, Naja pulled me toward the nurses’ station, where a group of overworked nurses barely looked up from their paperwork. One of them, a tired-looking woman with ink stains on her fingers, shot Naja a glare. “You better not be bringing in another stray.”

  “This one’s useful,” Naja shot back. “And he actually listens to instructions.”

  “A miracle,” the nurse muttered before going back to her charts.

  We moved on, stopping in a ward where patients rested behind thin curtains. Some were recovering from surgeries, others from magical accidents. Naja gestured for me to follow her to a young woman sitting up in bed, her arm wrapped in enchanted bandages. “Ricky, meet Lara. She got caught in a spell malfunction.”

  Lara gave me a small, tired smile. “You’re the one with the glowing veins, huh? I heard you’re learning to use your magic to help.”

  Naja nudged me forward. “Go on, Ricky. Show her what you’ve learned.”

  I hesitated. “You want me to—”

  “Scab it over,” Naja confirmed, pulling the bandage away just enough to reveal the still-healing wound underneath. “You stabilized blood flow earlier. Now, let’s see if you can encourage clotting without shutting her whole system down.”

  Lara chuckled. “That’d be nice.”

  I exhaled slowly, closing my eyes. Like before, I reached out with my magic, feeling the slow, steady pulse of her blood. I focused on the wound, guiding the blood toward healing rather than forcing it into submission. Slowly, the surface of the wound darkened as a scab formed, sealing the break.

  Lara let out a soft breath. “Huh. That actually felt…warm. Didn’t expect that.”

  I opened my eyes and frowned. “Is that good?”

  “Better than bleeding everywhere,” she teased, flexing her fingers. “You’re not bad at this, Ricky. I think with a little training, you could make an excellent doctor.”

  Pride swelled in my chest at her words, unexpected but welcome. A doctor. No one had ever called me that before. No one had ever suggested that my magic could be used for something good, something meaningful. I’d always been told I was dangerous, unstable—someone to be feared. But here, in this hospital, with Naja’s guidance, I was something else entirely.

  I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll stick around then. See if you’re right.”

  With a smile, Naja grabbed my hand and sped out of the room. She didn’t give me time to protest before dragging me toward the emergency wing. The atmosphere shifted the moment we stepped through the double doors—urgent voices, the shuffle of feet, and the occasional groan of pain filled the space. The air smelled of antiseptic and something heavier, something metallic. Blood.

  “This is where I spend most of my time,” Naja explained as we moved past rows of occupied beds. “I’m the only magical healer in this hospital, and I can’t heal everyone. My energy has to go to those who need it the most—the ones clinging to life. That’s why I think you could help here, Ricky. You can do what I can’t. You can stop the bleeding before it’s too late.”

  We stopped at the bedside of a young man clutching his stomach, his skin pale and clammy. A doctor worked quickly, pressing bandages against the wound, but the bleeding wasn’t slowing.

  “Another stabbing victim,” Naja muttered under her breath before turning to me. “Alright, Ricky, let’s see if you’re ready for this. You need to slow the blood loss before he goes into shock.”

  I swallowed hard but nodded. This was different from forming scabs on a small wound. This was real, life-threatening. But as I reached out with my magic, feeling the chaotic rush of blood flooding where it shouldn’t, I knew—I could help.

  “You don’t need to force it,” Naja reminded me. “Just guide it, slow it down.”

  I focused, adjusting the flow little by little, willing the blood to stay where it belonged. The doctor’s head shot up, eyes widening as the crimson stain on the bandages stopped spreading.

  “What—?” he started, glancing between me and Naja.

  Naja smirked. “Told you. He’s useful.”