Elias Leywin POV
I collapsed forward, my scream tearing out of my throat before I could stop it. The pain was unlike anything I had ever imagined. The scent of charred flesh filled the chamber, clinging to the back of my throat like acid. My breath came in short, ragged gasps as I stared wide-eyed at the jagged stump where my arm had been, and I saw with unnerving detail as my left arm began its slow descent to the floor.
Blood hissed and sizzled where it met the searing magma blade, bone marrow oozing out, surrounded by a smouldering ruin of blackened skin.
"Fuck... Fuck..." I rasped, choking on my own words as agony rolled over me in waves, making a mere moment feel like an eternity. My fingers twitched helplessly, but there were no fingers left to move. Only absence.
Golden light surged violently from deep within my core(?), racing toward the mutilated stump. Mana roared through me like a storm, so intense it felt like my veins were tearing apart under the pressure. I screamed again, my head thrown back, the sound raw and unrestrained.
Then, a blindingly bright golden light surrounded the injured area and elongated and from within the light, came a sickening crack and bone began to grow.
I watched in horror as pale white spines erupted from the blackened stump, splitting flesh apart as they shot outward, lengthening in jerky bursts. The sound was unbearable. A wet, grating scrape, like stones grinding together inside my own body.
Splinters of bone twisted and rejoined until they formed a rough skeletal forearm, jagged at the edges before smoothing unnaturally fast.
Muscles followed, writhing like living worms as they slithered up the length of the new bone, weaving around it in a grotesque, frantic dance. Fibrous cords tightened and snapped into place, jerking my half-formed hand in spasms that made bile rise in my throat.
Tendons began to spool over them in clumps, thin white bands stretching and stitching together in a patchwork of living tissue.
Skin came last, creeping like liquid gold from my shoulder down to my fingertips, sealing the ghastly mess beneath a fresh, unmarred surface. My hand flexed involuntarily, every nerve screaming as if dipped in fire, every cell in my body screaming for it to stop.
I collapsed forward on my knees, clutching my new arm to my chest as tremors wracked my entire frame. My lungs burned. My heart pounded. I heard thud from my left as my previously severed left arm fell to the floor a moment after I did.
From the corner of my blurred vision, Olfred stood rooted in place, his magma sword crumbling to harmless slag in his hand. His face was pale beneath his soot-smeared beard, wide eyes darting between the arm on the floor, my new arm and my twisted, tear-streaked expression.
King Dawsid broke the silence first. A sharp, booming clap echoed through the chamber, startling everyone present. His lips curled into a crooked smile, a strange mixture of delight and disbelief twisting his features.
"I'll be damned. The boy truly can do it. A feat worthy of the old legends." His tone softened slightly as he tilted his head toward me. "My apologies, lad. I had to see it with my own eyes."
I snapped my gaze up at him, rage boiling hotter than the magma that had just taken my arm, which was still on the floor. My voice came out hoarse, broken, but laced with fury all the same.
"Apologies?!" I barked, staggering to my feet despite the trembling in my legs. "You— you cut my arm off like it was nothing! You think a simple 'sorry' makes that fine? WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
My words echoed harshly against the stone walls, my raw anger slicing through the tense silence. My new hand trembled at my side, knuckles white, but whether from lingering pain or the urge to strike him, I couldn't tell.
"Calm yourself, boy," Dawsid said, waving one hand dismissively as if my outrage were no more than an unruly breeze. His voice was booming, steady, carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed without question. "You can heal. You just proved it. What's a lost arm to you, eh? A moment's discomfort, nothing more."
"A moment's discomfort?!" I exploded, my voice cracking as it bounced off the vaulted stone walls. "You mutilated me like I was some kind of animal you were testing a blade on! I thought I was going to die!" My throat burned, every word scraping raw as the image of the molten blade flashed in my mind again.
Dawsid simply shrugged, almost amused. "But you didn't die, did you? You're standing right there, whole again. The magic you wield is nothing short of a miracle, lad. If you can bring yourself back from something like that, then there's no need for this tantrum."
"Tantrum?!" My voice cracked under the weight of rage. My mana flared in my veins, unbidden, golden light—violent this time—flickering at my fingertips. "You cut my arm off like it was nothing and call this a tantrum?!"
My chest heaved with every breath, hands shaking from the effort to keep myself from launching forward. My mind was a haze of pain, fear, and fury, all boiling over like an unstable cauldron.
Olfred finally stirred, taking a cautious step forward, his previously unshakable composure cracked by what he had just done and witnessed. "Your Majesty," he rumbled, his voice low, laced with tension as his eyes flicked warily between me and his king, "Perhaps this can wait. The lad's been through hell already. He deserves an explanation, at the very least."
Dawsid tilted his head toward his trusted warrior, brow raised in faint irritation.
"Forgive me, King Dawsid," Olfred said, stepping closer to stand slightly between us, his massive frame a quiet barrier against my trembling fury, "But you did just order me to take his arm, against my will at that." His gaze hardened slightly, uncharacteristically stern for someone addressing his liege.
"Without warning him. Without knowing if the boy could even survive it." His fists clenched at his sides, the faint heat of his fading magic making the air shimmer around him. "With all due respect, my king, that is no way to treat an ally, nor to presumably confirm something."
I let out a harsh, uneven laugh that bordered on a sob, my voice shaking as I glared past Olfred at Dawsid. "An ally?!" I spat, trying to understand the utter hypocrisy that I just heard.
Dawsid's amusement faded just enough to show a flicker of annoyance. He leaned forward slightly, his heavy hands clasping the arms of his throne. "Pain is temporary, boy. Strength lasts forever."
I let out a low growl as the king clapped his hands together again.
"I wish to hire your services, boy", he said, smirking at me.
'What?'
I stood there, slack-jawed at his absurd statement.
"What?" I repeated, my voice hoarse, cracking under the weight of anger and disbelief. My hands trembled at my sides, my newly grown arm aching like a fresh wound. "You-you mutilated me, made me think that I was going to die, and now you've got the audacity to say you want to hire me? ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE OLD MAN?!"
Dawsid leaned back on his throne, completely unbothered, his thick fingers drumming lazily on the armrest as if we were discussing nothing more serious than a tavern bet. "Aye, boy," he said, tone laced with irritating calm.
"What you just did... there's no priest, mage, or healer in this world who could match it. That kind of gift shouldn't be left to sit idle. It's something worth paying for."
"I'm not some tool for you to throw coin at!" I barked, voice echoing against the stone walls, chest still heaving from the remnants of fury and pain. "And after what you just pulled, you couldn't pay me enough to-"
"Ten thousand gold."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I froze mid-sentence, my jaw snapping shut with an audible click. My eyes widened slightly despite myself, and for a long, awkward moment, I just stared at him, brain scrambling to process what he had just said.
"W–what?" I stuttered, my voice suddenly not as strong as it had been a second ago.
Dawsid leaned forward now, his smirk shifting into a knowing grin, the kind of look a man gives when he's landed a perfect strike in a duel. "Ten. Thousand. Gold," he repeated, enunciating each word like he was hammering nails into my resistance, the worst part is that it seemed to work.
"All yours, lad, in a One-time payment, delivered in a Dimensional Ring that could hold this entire Castle inside with room to spare, no strings beyond what we ask of you." He spread his arms, voice growing just a touch more serious. "And not just gold. You'd have the full support of the Greysunder royal line at your back. Our protection, our favour, our name to call upon in every kingdom on this continent."
My mouth opened, then closed again, my righteous fury suddenly tangled up with the weight of the offer.
Ten thousand gold...
Ten whole thousands...
Dawsid chuckled, clearly reading every thought flickering across my face. "Aye, that's what I thought. Every man has a price, lad. You've just heard yours." He gestured vaguely with one hand as if dismissing my earlier outrage as a passing storm. "So what do you say? Do we put this ugly start behind us and strike a deal?"
"W-what would you have me do?" I stammered out, looking at the dwarven king.
Finally, Queen Glaudera, who had been silent this whole time, rose from her seat beside him. Her expression was more composed than her husband's, yet there was something heavy in her eyes.
"We need a miracle." She said in a resigned tone.
"Hm?"
"We wish to have a child." She folded her hands neatly in front of her, her gaze fixed on me, unwavering yet pleading. "For years, we have tried everything. Healers, blessings, remedies from across the continent. Nothing has worked. Our line faces extinction unless a miracle can be made flesh. When we heard of you..." She said ending with a mumble.
"Why would you need me for that?" I asked, confused, "Couldn't you just ask another stork to bring you a baby instead?"
The Queen of the Dwarfs lets an exhale out of her nose. "That may be true, but a mother still needs to carry a child in her belly for some time to make sure the child grows to be strong", she stated in response, a smile growing on the corner of her lips as a hand drifts to her midsection.
My hands tightened at my sides as I looked up to the pair ahead of me. "I-I don't know if I can use it on others..."
"It's fine, boy", Dawsid says tiredly, "We've already sunk a small fortune into this... issue."
"I see." My fists loosened, and I let out a sigh.
Dawsid leaned forward, eyes glinting like polished iron beneath his heavy brows. "So, lad," he rumbled, his voice carrying the weight of a man used to ending arguments with a single sentence, "Will you try?"
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The image of my arm regrowing bone, splitting skin, tendons writhing, and muscle knitting together flashed through my mind again.
I don't even understand how it happened.
It had just... worked.
My mana had done what it wanted, and my body had obeyed. If it could do that for me, could it do the same for someone else?
My gaze flicked to Queen Glaudera. She stood there, proud but weary, every inch of her frame holding itself together through sheer will. There was a desperation in her eyes that no crown could hide.
"I..." I hesitated, then clenched my jaw. "I'll try," I said, forcing the words out. "But I'm not promising anything."
The queen's composure broke in a soft, trembling breath. Relief flooded her features, and for the first time since entering the throne room, her regal mask slipped to reveal something deeply human, or rather Dwarven.
She descended the steps from her throne, each movement deliberate, as if her knees might give out if she hurried. When she reached me, she placed both hands gently over mine, the weight of her gratitude heavier than any crown.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick, genuine. "You don't know what this means to me... to us."
I swallowed again, unsure what to say, so I just nodded stiffly. My chest felt tight, caught between guilt, doubt, and a tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could actually help.
Dawsid clapped his hands once, a thunderous sound that echoed through the chamber. "Good! Then let's not waste time standing about like fools." He rose to his feet, his boots thudding against the stone floor as he gestured for us to follow. "Come on, boy. Let's get to it."
Olfred fell in behind us silently, his usual gruff confidence muted as he cast me a glance that was equal parts concern and warning.
My thoughts churned violently with every step.
How the hell am I supposed to do this?
I barely understood what my magic was, let alone how to use it on someone else.
I didn't know what was 'broken' in the queen, what part of her body refused to do what nature intended.
We reached a grand wooden door flanked by two dwarven guards, who bowed as the king and queen approached. Dawsid gave a curt nod, and the guards pushed the heavy door open, revealing a lavish bedchamber.
Golden candlelight danced off polished stone walls, tapestries hung, and a massive bed stood in the centre, its deep red blankets rich enough to buy a small village.
Glaudera stepped inside first, her poise steady despite the raw hope clinging to her like a second skin. Dawsid followed, folding his arms as he stood off to the side
The queen crossed to the bed and sat gracefully on its edge before reclining slowly, her hands resting over her midsection. She turned her head to me, her eyes searching mine with quiet trust and desperation. "Whenever you are ready," she murmured softly.
I stood there frozen, staring at her, my mouth dry as sand. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides as my mind continued to race.
My pulse thundered in my ears, my vision blurring for a second under the weight of it all.
I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to focus, to remember every detail of what had happened to my arm. The raw agony. The overwhelming surge of mana rippled through my body. The way my magic had torn flesh apart and built it anew without hesitation or guidance.
I hadn't known what to do then... but my magic had known.
That strange, Ethereal Glow.
Maybe that was the key. Maybe this wasn't something I needed to think through or guide like a spell from a textbook. Maybe I just had to let go. To let that same unstoppable force take over and do what it was meant to do.
I glanced at Glaudera again, lying there with quiet dignity, the faintest tremor of fear in her eyes despite her brave face. Dawsid's presence behind me was heavy and expectant, while Olfred lingered in the doorway, his broad frame tense but silent.
I swallowed hard and stepped closer to the bed, my hands flexing nervously at my sides. "I... I don't know if this will work," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I've never tried to heal someone else before."
Glaudera gave me the smallest of smiles, one filled with fragile hope. "Trying is all we can ask of you," she said softly.
I nodded once, slowly, as I let out a long, shaky breath.
I reached out and hesitantly placed a hand over the woman's midsection.
Focus Elias...
Focus on that feeling.
I began to feel it as mana swelled in my core. It steadily flowed down my arm as warm golden light emanated from my palm.
The warmth spread, soft and steady at first, like sunlight breaking through a cloudy dawn. My breaths came slow and uneven, every ounce of my focus sinking into the glow building in my palm. I closed my eyes, shutting out the bedchamber, the stares, the tension that hung in the air like a drawn bowstring.
Come on... just like before. Just like with my arm...please...
But it's not the same. There's no stabbing pain, no severed flesh screaming to be made whole. There's no clear direction, no instinctive pull telling my magic what to do. It just... gathered, waiting for command, for a purpose I did not have to give.
My brows furrowed, sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. My magic hummed like a caged storm under my skin, restless, uncertain, while my own uncertainty mirrored it perfectly.
'What am I even fixing? What's wrong?' I desperately thought. I didn't know what part of her body needed this. I didn't know what was broken.
Doubts clawed at me, sharp and fast. Maybe this was hopeless. Maybe I'm not what they think I am. Maybe this was just a cruel joke, a desperate last grab for a miracle that didn't exist.
I grit my teeth, frustration biting at the edges of my panic. My magic wavered, the glow flickering against Glaudera's dress like a dying lantern.
And then a memory slammed into me. The moment my arm grew back, the white-hot agony, the unstoppable surge of light, my magic acting without guidance. I hadn't told it to fix me. It had just... known.
'Maybe I don't need to know what's broken.' The thought came to me like a whisper in the chaos of my mind. Maybe my magic already does.
I took a trembling breath, closing my eyes tighter, letting go of the frantic need to control it. I loosened my grip on my mana, letting it flow freely, trusting it to do what it had done before.
The difference was immediate. The light brightened, not forced, but natural, spilling in soft golden waves across Glaudera's midsection. The warmth deepened, filling the room like a summer breeze.
Glaudera let out a faint, shaky gasp, her hands gripping the sheets beside her. But she doesn't pull away. Her breathing quickened, not in fear, but in some fragile hope reawakening.
Behind me, I heard Dawsid shift his weight, boots scraping against stone. Olfred muttered something low under his breath, but I barely registered it. My whole world narrowed to that glow, that connection, as my magic moved on its own.
Finally, the pull began to fade. The golden light dimmed until there was only a faint shimmer on my fingertips. I sagged forward slightly, breathing hard, pulling my hand back as if it weighed a hundred pounds.
Glaudera opened her eyes slowly, wide and shimmering with unshed tears. She didn't speak at first, just brought a trembling hand to her abdomen as if afraid to disturb some delicate miracle. Then, she whispered in a voice barely louder than a breath, "I... I feel... different."
Dawsid's heavy boots thundered as he took a step closer, his usual booming tone strangely careful. "Different how, my love?"
She blinked, her gaze flicking up to meet mine briefly before looking at him. "Warm," she said, her voice shaking but filled with wonder.
The once stoic king looked at me with teared eyes as he uttered a single phrase.
"Thank You"
WC - 3305
Thanks for reading this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it. 😊
All Criticism and feedback are welcome. Any suggestions for the story or plot are also more than welcome.
You guys are insane, hitting the like goal in under a day. Sorry about taking so long to realise I hadn't quite finished up yet, but it gives me a chance to yap about the Swans before we begin our title charge Saturday.
Wycombe are a bunch of sour cunts trying to force us into a bidding war with Leicester, but jokes on them for having no bids for Kone.
With Viponik, Santos and Cabango out, this is my predicted Team sheet:
Vigouroux
Key Lissah Burgess Tymon
Franco Galbraith
Ronald Widell Inoussa
Cullen
Away at Middlesbrough, I predict a 2-1 Swans Win.
Uppa Swans YJB
Special Thanks to LancelotDragonroad for editing this Chapter.
If there are any questions feel free to message my Discord - Navarius13
If we're all still alive, the next chapter will be released at 15 likes or on Wednesday.
Rius out.