Julia navigated the streets of Sharwood with practiced ease, her purposeful strides weaving seamlessly through townsfolk and the occasional cart. The way she moved, her confidence radiating from her every step, suggested that this was not her first journey through these bustling lanes. William, still favouring his injured leg, hurried to keep up, his curiosity about this new world and its inhabitants temporarily overshadowing his discomfort. If I can survive wolves with this leg, walking through a busy market should be child's play, right?

  They arrived at a building that, while unassuming, was noticeably larger than most around it. A simple wooden sign above the door, depicting a stylized mortar and pestle, identified it as the town's clinic. The sturdy stone foundation and well-maintained timber above reflected Sharwood's blend of practicality and long-standing community spirit.

  Inside, the clinic was a scene of organized chaos. The large room was partitioned by hanging cloths and movable wooden screens, creating distinct areas that buzzed with energy. Right near the entrance, an area designated for emergencies bore witness to a bloodstained bed and a collection of bandages, each item indicating urgency that was in the air. A mixture of soldiers and townsfolk rested in the adjoining section, their faces lined with varying degrees of pain and weariness, the room thick with the scents of herbs mingling with the faint, sour undertone of illness.

  A tall, thin man darted between patients, a simple brown robe billowing around him like a storm cloud. This was Mendal, the town’s doctor, his movements a blur of focused activity as he flitted from one bedside to another, his long, slender fingers deftly probing wounds and distributing potions. Lines etched deep into his kind face spoke of sleepless nights and endless worry, but the spark in his tired eyes reflected unwavering dedication. Seems this guy has the same job as a consultant—just with more blood and less coffee.

  The moment Mendal noticed Julia, his expression broke into a smile, relief washing over him. He rushed toward her, his long strides eating up the distance. “Julia! Thank the heavens you're alright!” he exclaimed, voice thick with a mixture of relief and worry. “We heard rumours of increased goblin activity in Tallenwood. I’ve been worried sick. Are you injured? What can I do?” His hands hovered near her as if checking for wounds, concern evident in every furrow of his brow.

  Julia smiled warmly, her hand resting reassuringly on his arm. “I’m fine, Mendal, truly. A few scrapes and bruises, nothing more. It’s William here who needs your attention.” She gestured toward him, who stood awkwardly by her side, feeling like an intruder in this scene of urgent medical care.

  Mendal’s gaze shifted to William, and his expression turned professional in an instant, eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. He took in William's rumpled clothes and the makeshift crutch, his mind already formulating a preliminary assessment. “Found him in Tallenwood, unconscious,” Julia explained, filling in the details. “Attacked by a goblin. Nasty bite, looked infected. He managed to find some citrusroot and apply it, which was remarkably resourceful.”

  As Mendal’s attention shifted fully to William, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Let’s have a look, then,” he said, his voice brisk but carrying a note of competence and warmth. He gestured toward a nearby stool. William sat down gratefully, wincing slightly as he shifted his weight.

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  Mendal knelt beside him, fingers gently unwrapping the bandage, revealing the wound beneath. He probed the area around the bite—his touch firm yet careful, the air thick with anticipation. William felt his heart race, every second amplifying his anxiety. What if it looked worse than it felt? Would he have to go under the knife? They didn’t cover “goblin bites” in his old world.

  “Hmm,” Mendal murmured, more to himself than to William. “Remarkable. The wound is almost completely healed.” His eyes widened slightly as he assessed the colour and texture of William's skin. “I can see the signs of a significant infection, but it’s cleared up entirely. This should have taken days, perhaps even weeks, especially with a goblin bite. They carry all sorts of nasty bacteria.” He looked up at William, eyes glimmering with a mix of puzzlement and professional curiosity. “You said you used citrusroot?”

  “Yes,” William replied, his voice barely above a whisper, suddenly feeling like a lab rat. “I crushed the leaves and applied them as a poultice. I remembered reading that citrus had antiseptic properties and those leaves gave off a strong citrus smell.”

  Mendal nodded slowly, visibly impressed. “Indeed, it does. Citrusroot is a potent remedy, but this rate of healing?” He paused, deep in thought. “There must be other factors at play. Perhaps a particularly potent batch of the herb, or... or something else entirely.” His gaze turned speculative. “The only times I’ve heard of wounds healing this quickly involved magic. Powerful healing magic. But that's... ancient lore, lost knowledge. It's been centuries since anyone in Aver possessed such abilities.” He shook his head, as if to dismiss such fanciful notions. “You’re a lucky young man, William. Very lucky indeed.”

  Julia, having watched the examination unfold with a mix of concern and relief, spoke up, her voice filled with curiosity. “He’s fine, then? No need for further treatment?”

  “He’ll need to keep the wound clean and bandaged, of course,” Mendal replied, completing the re-bandaging with deft movements. “And I’ll give him a tonic to help boost his strength. But yes, he’s essentially healed. Quite astonishing.”

  William’s mind reeled at Mendal's astonishment. Lucky? I’ve had a goblin bite me, a wolf tried to jump me, and I’m still limping in pain. Not so lucky I would say.

  Once satisfied with his work, Mendal straightened up, his attention already drawn toward another moan from a bed across the room. Julia gently steered William towards the door, gratitude spilling from her eyes. “We won’t keep you from your patients, Mendal. Thank you for your help.”

  “Of course, Julia,” Mendal nodded absentmindedly, his focus shifting back to the crowded room. “Take care of yourselves. And William,” he added, stopping them at the doorway, “if you experience any further discomfort, or if anything seems amiss, come back immediately. This rapid healing is something I’d like to study further when I have the time.”

  Outside the clinic, Julia let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re alright, William. That goblin bite looked nasty. Seems you’re a fast healer.”

  William, however, was still processing Mendal's words, grappling with the implications. “He said it was like healing magic,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But that’s impossible, isn’t it? I mean, I’m just... me.”

  Julia smiled warmly, a glimmer of understanding in her gaze. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you have some mysterious powers that even you don’t realize. All that matters is that you are better now.” Her tone brightened. “Come on, let's find Edward. He'll be at the Adventurers Guild.”

  As they walked, William couldn’t resist the temptation to delve deeper into the captivating subject. “Julia,” he began, the curiosity fuelling his words, “you mentioned magic. Can you... can you tell me more about it? How it works?”