The night before my arrival, the moon rode high and clear over the road—silver light spilling across the forest path as our carriage rattled along. I sat within, gazing out the window, absently rubbing my thumb over the soft weave of my Healer's Scarf—white trimmed in gold, its ends embroidered with the sigil of Althea, Goddess of Healing and Medicine.
The scarf had always been a symbol of duty more than comfort. Every healer who served Althea was required to wear one during pilgrimage, marking them as a bringer of light, mercy, and healing. For twenty years, we traveled the world four months of each year—restoring, mending, and aiding those in need. I was in my final year of that vow.
Four months left.
I smiled faintly, feeling both pride and fatigue. "Four months," I murmured aloud, "and then I can rest my feet for once."
Across from me, my head maid, Serena, looked up from her notes. She was a tall, wiry elf with dark green hair tied neatly at the back and eyes sharp enough to cut steel. "You say that every year, Lady Clarisse," she said, her tone half teasing, half chiding. "Yet somehow, I doubt you'll stop traveling. You thrive on the road."
I chuckled softly. "Perhaps. But I wouldn't mind healing from the comfort of a chair once in a while."
Serena smirked. "You'd last a week before packing your bags again."
I didn't argue—she was probably right.
Still, this trip wasn't for patients or temples. This time, I was going home.
It had been over a decade since I'd last seen Ventis—my little sister. Last I heard, she'd settled comfortably, raised a son, and built a stable, peaceful life. I was proud of her. She'd always wanted quiet, safety, and family, while I had chosen motion, duty, and the path of healing.
And yet, as the carriage swayed and the road hummed beneath the wheels, a curious excitement fluttered in my chest. A nephew. I'd never met him. "Baker," I whispered his name with a smile. "I wonder if he'll take after Ventis… or if he's a wild one."
Serena raised a brow. "Looking forward to meeting him, my lady?"
"I am," I admitted, leaning back. "Though… maintaining noble decorum again will be a pain."
Serena chuckled. "After years surrounded by peasants, pilgrims, and temple sisters, it will be… quite the contrast."
"Indeed," I said dryly, though warmth crept into my tone. "But I'll manage. I can pretend to be proper for a few days."
Serena set down her papers. "Do you think they'll recognize you? You've been gone so long."
I smiled, resting my chin on my hand. "Ventis will. She always does. As for the boy…" A quiet laugh escaped me. "He'll likely think I'm just another stern old aunt come to lecture him about manners."
Serena tilted her head. "You are thirty-four, my lady, not seventy."
I gave her a look, half amusement, half mock offense. "Careful, Serena. Or I'll have you brewing your own poultices for the next month."
She grinned. "Yes, Lady Clarisse."
I turned my gaze back out the window, where the moonlight flickered through the trees. My fingers brushed over the golden embroidery on my scarf.
[Healer's Endurance], the divine skill granted by Althea herself, pulsed faintly within me—a constant, gentle rhythm. Every spell I cast cost half the mana it should. It had saved my life—and countless others—on the road. With it, I could heal a hundred wounds before exhaustion even brushed me.
But now, the thought of healing wasn't what filled my heart. It was family.
After years spent wandering, mending strangers, and serving in temples… I would finally meet my sister's son.
I smiled softly to myself as the carriage rocked gently onward. "Tomorrow," I whispered. "Tomorrow I'll meet him."
Serena extinguished the lantern and pulled the curtains shut. "Get some rest, my lady. You'll want to look your best."
I chuckled, closing my eyes. "If I can remember how nobles are supposed to act."
Sleep took me with a faint smile still on my lips, the rhythmic hum of the carriage wheels lulling me into dreams of home, hearth, and family.