I watched as the black poison retreated from Marcus's veins, leaving behind faint gray traces like old scars. His breathing had steadied, and color was slowly returning to his face.
The other poisoned warriors were responding similarly to the cure, their bodies fighting back with renewed strength.
I hadn't left Marcus's side in hours, I was afraid that if I looked away, the poison might return. My fingers traced gentle patterns across his knuckles, his hand now warm instead of burning with fever.
"You should rest."
I heard a gentle voice behind me.
I turned to find Stanis, the council member and elder healer, his ancient eyes kind but firm.
"The King will recover. As will the others. The worst has passed."
"I'll stay a bit longer..."
I replied, my voice hoarse from exhaustion.
Stanis nodded, understanding etched in his weathered face.
"It was brave, what you did. Facing Alaric alone."
"I wasn't alone."
