Jean is actually frostbitten. He has used a skill to alter his hair colour, but changes it back now. It was enough to get him in here when he was wrapped in blankets and freezing outside, and though we might get trouble for it with his grandma, I’m rather sure no one will accuse us of abducting him.

  Unless he claims we did. In which case, well. We’re in trouble.

  But, looking at his eyes, I think we’ll be rather fine.

  I nod at his declaration. “Yes, let’s,” I say. “Since I asked you here, you get to ask first.”

  Jean nods, entirely serious, his face set. Then, he holds out a hand. Its skin is pale. “Heal me,” his eyes say.

  Right. That makes sense. Of course he’d want to see my skill first. I look at his face, lips pressed into a thin line, and I can tell he’s putting on a brave expression for me. He’s in rather genuine pain.

  So, I respond in kind, grabbing a few of the enchanted blankets, wrapping them around him, and having Jess light a fire in a cube of mana I maintain. He holds it like a hot water bottle, up to his tummy, cradling it. I then trace a few inscriptions just above his arm and activate my skill, regenerating some lost tissue and enhancing his blood flow to make sure he warms up properly.

  His heart stat does the rest to help him recover rather quickly. “You didn’t have to actually get hurt,” I note.

  He nods, pulling out the block again and writing. “But this did make it more convincing.”

  I just nod, appreciating his dedication. I sit down, crossing my legs, and placing my one arm in my lap, then tilt my head at him. “Ask.”

  “How did you lose your arm?” he writes.

  “I cut it off myself,” I say. “During the ascension to the second floor, the tower asked for a sacrifice. This is what I gave.”

  Jean nods, slowly, his lips pressed against each other. He’s chewing the inside of his cheek, focusing and thinking. I wonder if he’s using some sort of skill to remain so concentrated. What else could it be? But, for now, he gets to ask.

  “Your eye?” he writes.

  Lightly, I tap a nail against the open part of my skull. It feels weird and the knocking sound feels louder than it should be. The boy looks somehow both fascinated and a little horrified at the display. My skin around the wound looks creepy, too, little pale tendrils crawling forward over white bone.

  “This is from a descender. One of the Eyes sent someone down, they found me, and this was the best they could do,” I say. “It burnt my eye, but I already healed that part.”

  He nods, his lips even thinner now. “Can I try?” he writes.

  “No,” I shake my head. “I appreciate the thought, but I want to practice on the wounds to help my friend heal hers.”

  “You care about your friends,” Jean notes.

  “Sure,” I shrug.

  The boy drums his fingers against the wood, still holding the warm cube against himself with the other arm. Then, he scribbles on the paper again, tearing off the page and handing it to me. “Could we be friends?” it says. His eyes are completely serious. What an earnest request.

  “I’m pretty picky about my friends,” I say. “Why do you want to be friends?”

  He frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. The way he wears every emotion on his sleeve is almost charming. He takes a long moment to write down an answer. “I want more friends. Grandma says I shouldn’t trust people. But when they’re hurt, they really don’t seem all that bad,” the paper says. “So, I want to see if things are as bad as she says.”

  “Then I don’t think I would be a good friend to you,” I say. His face falls a little bit. “But,” I add, “I’m sure we can find a workaround. For now, we’re… friendly colleagues, yes?” I ask.

  He tilts his head. In a quiet, almost whisper, he opens his mouth. “Colleagues?”

  Gravely, I nod. “Colleagues. We’re both healers, after all, so we gotta work together.”

  “Okay,” he agrees, seriously.

  “Good,” I say, leaning back a bit. “And I’m sure some other members of my group will be willing to be your friends. Inu especially - the tall girl with dark hair,” I say.

  At that, his eyes light up and he leans forward a bit. “Really?” The words come a little easier to him now. He’s a brave kid.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Really,” I nod. Then, I hold up a hand. “After we talk, though. I’m sure you have more questions.”

  Slowly, he reigns in his excitement then nods again. “Right,” he writes, then takes a deep breath. “Why are you so calm?”

  “The short answer is that I simply struggle to feel much at all,” I say, shrugging. “I try my best. If I succeed, I succeed. If I die, I die. That’s all there is to it.”

  “What if your friends get hurt?”

  “I’d save them and avenge them,” I say, simply.

  Jean tilts his head, ever so slightly. “Would you be angry?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I’d like to think I would be.”

  At that, he nods, slowly. “Okay. How did you get your healing skill?”

  “By seeing how I got healed when allocating points,” I answer readily. “It was a combination of skills from me and my friends that let me catch even a glimpse. Then, it took a lot of practice and cutting myself open.”

  “That sounds horrible,” Jean writes.

  I shrug. “It was tolerable,” I say.

  He nods, very slowly. Then, finally, he leans back a bit. “I think I understand you more now,” he writes after a few moments. “You’re not too bad,” he whispers.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “You’re smiling,” he says.

  Slowly, I touch a finger to my mouth. He’s right. “Huh,” I say. “How strange.”

  The kids smiles at me a little, too. “Okay. Your turn.”

  “How did you get your healing skill?” I ask.

  He grins. “Started with it,” he says. His words come a little easier now. Is he warming up? Inu hands him a bit of food, too. I notice that they’re looking at us, stealing glances from outside. I ignore them. “It’s called [Treatment].”

  “How does it work?” I ask.

  “Want me to demonstrate?” he asks in return. I look at him, then at my stump.

  “You sneaky rascal,” I say.

  At that, he flashes a bright grin, the first I’ve seen him give. “Caught me!”

  “I s’pose you don’t want me to just… stab myself?”

  The smile fades. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’d dislike that.”

  With a small roll of my eyes, I gesture at myself. “Go on then, show me.”

  Jean lights up just a little again, and quickly makes a few hops towards me, until we’re sitting close enough to touch. He’s smaller than me, quite a bit smaller. I look down on him, and he slowly reaches out.

  “Can you use it without touch?” I ask.

  The boy looks up at me for a second, giving me a light tilt of his head. “Yes, I can, but it’ll be less effective,” he explains.

  I nod. “Please avoid touching me.”

  He looks confused again, tilting his head.

  “It’s like… you don’t like talking, for the most part, yes?” I ask, and he nods. “I don’t like being touched in that way.” At that, his eyes light up. He nods again, and activates the skill. Mana courses through him, rushing out of his vessel. He must have a pretty high level of vessel, since there is quite a bit of power behind the healing. It congeals into a blueish fog, drifting from his fingertips and soaking into my skin.

  There’s a tingling beneath my flesh, the kind that makes the space between my muscles itch a little. But I can also feel it helping my natural regeneration along, synergizing more heavily with heart than my own skill does. I observe the way the energy soaks into me, gently alleviating little pains and troubles, and making my blood vessels widen a bit, too.

  It’s curious. I [Observe] the way the skill works, the way the mana interacts. Then I look to Jean. “Can you trigger it again?”

  He nods and does as asked. This time, I try to [Observe] the mana flowing through him. There’s some kind of barrier, though, and it’s hard to peer into someone else.

  [Observation 4 > 5]

  I see him shiver a little. “That feels… weird. Is that you?” he asks.

  Slowly, I nod. “Yes, I’m trying to look at the activation pattern of your skill.”

  Jean shivers again. “Uh. I’ll try to not fight it too much.”

  “If it’s a lot of trouble, I can see it another way. You’ll have to use it a few times, and I’ll take the skill apart as it forms and then reverse-engineer it,” I say, pulling back on [Observation].

  He nods quickly. “I think I’d prefer that,” he says.

  “Okay. Go ahead, then,” I tell him.

  Again, he nods, then triggers the skill. This time, I [Observe] the mana outside his body, target it with [Selection], follow the thread back to where the skill originates, take it apart with [Deconstruction], while [Suppressing] the effect it’ll have on Jean. It’s a much more complex process that leaves me a bunch of fragmented parts of the skill, but that’s okay, too.

  Already, I can see a few ways to incorporate it into my own healing skill, ways to draw out the duration and squeeze more efficiency from the mana I put in. The way his mist lingers might also let me make packets of healing that only activate when someone is hurt. Though that kind of pseudo-intelligence would need quite a bit of inscribing…

  I think it over as he activates the skill again, and I break it once more, trying to weave my mana to mimic the patterns in the air. Bit by bit, I study his skill, learning and adjusting my own. And, after an hour or so, the effort pays off.

  [Biological Restoration 7 > 8]

  Gently, I smile, then stretch my remaining arm out. Jean looks tired, having cast his skill over and over again. I look at him for a long moment, seeing his drooping eyes. “If you want to nap, you can do it here,” I offer.

  He smiles at me in return. “I would like that. Can you make me another caged campfire?” he asks.

  I tilt my head a little. “No problem,” I reply, having Jess craft another mana-fuelled flame and encasing it in a shell of solid magic, slowly feeding off its cage to remain warm for longer.

  Jean hugs the little thing carefully, and I round over the edges to make sure he doesn’t cut himself on it. “Rest well, kid. You can keep one of the enchanted blankets, too.” It’s only fair to hand him one, since he’s helped me develop my skill. He smiles happily, gives me a small thanks, then curls up in the warmth.

  Inu sits next to him, and I can feel her using the passive effects of her skills to learn a bit more about him, and make sure his dreams are peaceful. He ends up cradling the blankets to himself. I watch him for a moment, then turn to my projects again, ignoring the faint smile on my face and focusing on the enchanting. So much to do… and I feel like time’s running out.