Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Maurien puffed slowly on his pipe, his gaze drifting toward the streets as if watching people no one else could see. Then he leaned down slightly, his voice lowering into something quieter, sharper.

“Tell me, boy… Do you know what’s missing from your father’s party?”

Ludger blinked, frowning. Missing? His mind immediately conjured a dozen answers. A leash for Arslan. A bucket of common sense. Maybe a conscience or two.

But as he replayed the memory of Harold’s axe, Selene’s fists, Aleia’s bow, Cor’s magic—and Arslan with his sword—it hit him. His expression shifted, the sarcasm fading. “…A healer.”

Maurien’s lips curled into a knowing smile, the kind that said he had been waiting for Ludger to reach that answer. “Precisely. Strength, speed, firepower—they have plenty. But a party without a healer walks a knife’s edge. One mistake, one unlucky strike, and the whole group can collapse.”

He tapped the pipe against his hand again, smoke swirling around his sharp eyes. “Do you understand now? If you truly want value—value that makes people seek you out, pay you well, and protect you in turn—then healing is where you should cast your gaze. A healer earns gold as easily as breathing.”

Ludger tilted his head, eyes narrowing in thought. Healing magic, huh…? A job that everyone needs, that pays well, and that would make me indispensable. No wonder Maurien brought it up.

Maurien straightened, his voice low but steady. “So tell me, Ludger. Do you want to be just another swordsman or brawler… or do you want to become something no one in your father’s party or anyone can afford to lose?”

Maurien let the silence stretch for a moment, watching the boy’s sharp eyes weigh the possibilities. Then he gave a slow nod, smoke trailing upward as he spoke.

“Healers are difficult to find, Ludger. That’s why they’re valued so highly. They’re not just battlefield medics—they can ease sickness, mend wounds, and the most skilled among them… they can even restore chopped limbs.”

His gaze darkened, just for a flicker. “I’ve seen men with arms hacked off walk again because a true healer stood at their side. Not even I can do that. Healing magic has never bent to my will.”

That admission alone made Ludger’s brows rise. For someone like Maurien to say that so bluntly meant the magic wasn’t just rare—it was stubborn, elusive, selective.

“But you,” Maurien went on, pointing the stem of his pipe toward Ludger, “you’re still young. Young enough that you hadn't chosen your path. There’s a chance it might accept you in ways it never would for me.”

Ludger smirked faintly. “So, all I have to do is find the right way to learn it?”

Maurien’s eyes twinkled with quiet amusement. “If it were that simple, every adventurer in Koa would be a healer by now. No… healing requires more than desire. It requires intent. Sacrifice.”

Ludger frowned at that. Sacrifice, huh? That sounds like a poetic way of saying “prepare to suffer.”

Maurien chuckled, reading his expression. “Don’t look so sour, boy. I never said it’s impossible. Only if you truly want it, you’ll have to prove your determination. Healing doesn’t come to those who seek power—it comes to those who carry the weight of others.”

Ludger tapped his chin, his mind racing. Healing magic sounded invaluable, but Maurien’s words about sacrifice and intent rang more like a sermon than a guide. He narrowed his eyes and finally asked, “Do you know any healer in Koa?”

Maurien puffed on his pipe, the ember glowing as he inhaled, then exhaled a thin trail of smoke. “A few. But not many worth your time.”

“That’s still better than none,” Ludger pressed.

The old mage’s lips curled slightly. “Careful, boy. You think mages are secretive? Healers are worse. They guard their craft closely—some out of pride, others out of fear. If you ask the wrong way, you’ll be turned away before you finish the question. If you push too hard, you may be branded a nuisance.”

Ludger frowned. “So what—you’re saying I can’t just walk up to one and ask to be their disciple?”

Maurien chuckled, shaking his head. “You can try, and I’d pay a good coin to see the look on their faces. But if you want even a chance, you’ll need to give them something. Prove yourself useful first.”

Ludger tilted his head. “And do you have someone specific in mind?”

Maurien’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, that twinkle of mischief flashing again. “Perhaps. There’s an woman near the cathedral who knows more about herbs and poultices than most doctors. She hides her talents, but I suspect her hands have done more healing than she’ll admit. If anyone in this city could nudge a favor, it might be her.”

Ludger’s brows furrowed, half-curious, half-skeptical. So it’s not about learning a spell—it’s about finding the right person to show me the way…

Ludger crossed his arms, studying the old mage’s face. Maurien was many things—gruff, sharp-tongued, sometimes downright unsettling—but helpful? That was new.

“You know,” Ludger said slowly, “you don’t strike me as the type to care about whether I become a healer. You’re curious about me as a mage. That much is obvious. So why point me toward something you admit you can’t even do?”

Maurien’s pipe froze halfway to his lips. Then, after a heartbeat, he chuckled, the sound low and dry. “Sharp as ever. You’re right—I am curious about your magic. You pick things up faster than anyone I’ve seen. Frankly, it bothers me a little.”

Smoke curled as he finally took another puff. “But I’m also not blind. Potential without survival is wasted. A boy your age learning fire and water is interesting. A boy who learns to keep himself—and his allies—alive? That’s priceless.”

Ludger narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “So you’re saying you’re being generous? Out of the kindness of your heart?”

Maurien smirked. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t care enough to play the saint. But… let’s say I’d rather see where your path leads before it burns out early. If that means nudging you toward healing, then so be it.”

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Ludger turned that over in his head. So, in other words… he’s hedging his bets. Keeping me alive long enough to see what I’ll turn into.

For once, Ludger didn’t argue. Because, annoying as Maurien could be, he wasn’t wrong.

Ludger let the silence linger, his gaze steady on Maurien. The old mage clearly wanted to steer him, but being paraded around by him would raise more suspicion than anything else.

“I’ll handle it myself,” Ludger finally said. “If this old woman is really hiding her talents, she won’t show them in front of you anyway. Your presence would make her slam the door before I even knocked.”

Maurien raised an eyebrow, amused. “Confident, aren’t you? Or just stubborn.”

“Both,” Ludger replied without hesitation.

Maurien chuckled, the sound raspy as smoke drifted from his pipe. “Fair enough. I’ll not meddle, then. But don’t mistake subtlety for weakness. If she turns you away, don’t go crying to your mother.”

“I don’t cry,” Ludger muttered, rolling his eyes.

Maurien gave a sly grin. “Of course you don’t.”

With that, the old mage turned and walked down the street, his cloak brushing the ground behind him. Ludger watched until Maurien disappeared into the crowd, then exhaled through his nose. Good. One less shadow hovering over me.

He looked up toward the cathedral’s spire rising above the rooftops. If this woman existed, she was somewhere near there, hidden in plain sight.

Guess it’s time to see if I can coax the system into opening the healer’s class for me. On my own.

Finding the woman wasn’t as easy as Maurien had made it sound. “Near the cathedral” could have meant anywhere within the bustling square or the winding streets that fed into it. Ludger spent the better part of an afternoon walking in circles, pretending to be just another curious child while his eyes scanned for anything out of place.

At first, he saw nothing. Merchants shouting about holy charms, priests preaching about devotion, beggars sitting on the steps with empty bowls. All normal. But as he walked the perimeter, Ludger noticed something odd.

Behind one of the side streets, the noise of the crowd seemed to thin out. The stone paving grew uneven, cracked and dirtied, as if even the sweepers avoided the place. Stray cats prowled near piles of trash, and the further he walked, the darker it grew—the sunlight from the main square barely reaching into the narrow cut of the alley.

Most people gave the place a wide berth, glancing at it only to hurry along. That alone piqued Ludger’s suspicion. If everyone avoids it, then there’s a reason. And reasons are exactly where secrets hide.

He slipped into the alley, his small frame moving unnoticed past the piles of refuse and the stench of damp stone. The deeper he went, the colder it felt, and he had to squint until his eyes adjusted. And there, tucked between two leaning, weather-beaten buildings, he found her.

The woman was hunched on a broken stool, her posture defensive, almost feral. A worn cloak hung around her shoulders, its edges frayed with dirt. She looked like just another beggar at first glance, but the way she stiffened when Ludger stopped told him she wasn’t as helpless as she appeared. Her skin was streaked in mud and soot, but not clumsily. Purposefully. Like a painter hiding brushstrokes.

“Lost, brat?” she rasped, glaring at him from beneath the hood. “Cathedral’s that way. Go back to your mother.”

But Ludger didn’t move. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he scanned her more closely. That’s when he saw it—the strands of her hair weren’t just matted or dirty. They didn't have any hair at all. They shimmered faintly green in the dim light, fibrous, like the threads of a plant. Leaves, almost, trying to pass for human strands.

And suddenly, the dirt and dust smeared across her skin made sense. They weren’t accidents. They were camouflage. She was hiding the parts of herself that didn’t belong in this human city.

The woman noticed his stare and instantly yanked her hood lower, pulling the cloak tight around her shoulders. “Sharp little eyes,” she growled, her voice thick with warning. “Look away before I pluck them out.”

But Ludger only smirked faintly. Found you.

The woman straightened on her broken stool, her leafy strands brushing against her hood as she leaned closer. Her eyes narrowed, glowing faintly in the shadows of the alley, and her cracked lips curled into a snarl.

“You’ve got sharp little eyes, brat. Sharp enough to see what you shouldn’t. Do you know what happens to pests that stick their noses where they don’t belong?”

Her voice came out low, rasping, almost animal-like. She let the words hang in the air, expecting the boy to flinch, to bolt, to run screaming back to the safety of the cathedral square.

But Ludger didn’t move.

He tilted his head, meeting her glare with a cool expression that didn’t belong on a child’s face. His lips tugged upward, the barest hint of a smirk.

“That was supposed to scare me?” he asked. “You’re not even trying.”

The woman blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Tch.” Her hand tightened around the edge of her cloak, but the boy’s lack of fear unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Ludger shrugged lightly, as if they were talking about the weather. “If you want to chase me off, you’ll have to do better than cheap alley theatrics. I’ve seen scarier faces in the tavern after the ale runs out.”

For the first time, her composure cracked. She had underestimated him—taken him for just another wide-eyed child poking his nose where it didn’t belong. But his voice, his eyes, even the way he stood… there was something unnervingly steady about him. Something that didn’t match his years.

Her frown deepened. “You’re either fearless… or stupid.”

“Maybe both,” Ludger replied, his smirk widening just enough.

The woman’s glare lingered, but Ludger took a small step forward, his tone steady.

“My name’s Ludger,” he said, introducing himself without hesitation. “I heard someone sells medicine here, so I came to check. I want to learn.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. “Learn? Hah. You’re barely tall enough to reach a counter. What makes you think I’d waste my time on you?”

Ludger didn’t flinch. Instead, he crossed his arms, leaning into the excuse he’d already prepared. “Because my father is Arslan, the swordsman. He’s part of that adventuring party with Harold, Selene, Cor, and Aleia. You must have heard of them—they’ve been in Koa for months now.”

Something flickered in her expression, recognition she couldn’t hide.

Ludger pressed on. “They’re strong, sure, but strength doesn’t keep people alive forever. They’re missing something, and I’ve seen it with my own eyes: they don’t have a healer. Every time they go out, they’re one unlucky strike away from not coming back. And I…” He paused, eyes hardening. “I don’t want them dying just because no one was there to patch them up.”

The alley fell quiet. The woman studied him, her leafy strands shifting slightly beneath her hood. Ludger’s voice didn’t shake, not once, and it didn’t sound like the plea of a child—it sounded like someone who understood the weight of loss.

He finished simply, “If I can learn medicine, herbs, healing—anything—it might help keep them alive long enough to come home. That’s why I came to you.”

The woman clicked her tongue and looked away, as if the conversation had already bored her. “Not my problem. Whether your father’s friends live or die has nothing to do with me. I won’t get anything out of teaching you.”

Ludger’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “Then make it your problem. I can do anything you ask if you’ll just teach me.”

That finally made her turn her head back toward him. Her sharp eyes studied him for a long moment, as though weighing whether he was bluffing. The boy’s small shoulders, his steady gaze, his stubborn stance… none of it matched his years.

After a long silence, she sighed. “You really mean it, huh?”

“Yes.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she gave a faint, humorless chuckle. “What a fool. I don’t want anything from you.”

Ludger blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness. “...What?”

Instead of answering, she stood abruptly, the stool scraping against the uneven stones. She turned her back to him, her cloak shifting as she walked deeper into the alley.