Chapter 82 — The Healing Section
(The Mavaria Arc — Kingdom of the Nobles)
The first thing Kaya felt was silence.
Not peace — but silence.
A thick, unnatural quiet that pressed against her eardrums like cotton. The kind that comes after a storm… when the world is deciding whether to breathe again or not.
Her body was heavy, her mind fogged. The scent of herbs filled her lungs — earthy, sweet, and strangely electric. When she tried to move, her limbs protested. Every nerve screamed, but she forced herself up.
Her vision swam, colors bending, but slowly it cleared — and what she saw made her heart skip.
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THE POOL OF GREEN SISI HERBS
A faint green light glowed at the far end of the hut. There, inside a wide circular basin carved from smooth black stone, Moro floated — motionless — submerged waist-deep in shimmering green liquid. Around him, leaves the size of palms floated lazily, glowing softly as they pulsed in rhythm with the sound of distant waves.
An old woman knelt by the edge of the pool. Her silver hair fell in loose waves down her back, and her dark green robe shimmered faintly, embroidered with sigils Kaya didn't recognize. Her eyes, ancient yet tender, were fixed on Moro.
Her wrinkled hands moved gracefully through the water, stirring it gently. With each motion, the leaves obeyed, circling Moro in calm, spiraling patterns.
Kaya blinked, confusion and fear merging inside her. "What… what is this place?"
The woman didn't look at her. Her voice was calm and melodic, as though she'd been expecting Kaya to wake.
> "You are in the cradle of the Silver Roots — one of Mavaria's healing sanctuaries. You were barely alive when the tides carried you here."
Kaya struggled to stand. "And him?" she asked, her gaze locking on Moro. His face looked peaceful, but unnervingly pale. His skin had a faint bluish tone, and faint marks — like cracks in glass — shimmered across his chest.
> "He is between realms," the woman said softly. "Neither living, nor gone. His body breathes because the herbs remember what warmth feels like. But his spirit… that has been shattered."
Kaya's eyes widened. "Shattered? What does that mean?"
The old woman finally turned toward her, her gaze both sharp and kind.
> "It means his soul was fractured — too much pain, too much loss. It happens to those who carry burdens beyond their own lifelines. His energy stream is torn. I am trying to stitch the pieces before they scatter into nothingness."
Kaya took a hesitant step closer. The pool glowed brighter as she neared, like it could sense her presence. The scent of the herbs intensified — the Sisi leaves, vibrant and alive. She could feel the heat radiating off them.
> "What are these herbs?" she whispered.
> "The Sisi of Mavaria," the woman replied, tracing her fingers along the water. "They grow only on this land — roots born from the tears of the first Noble Queen. They cleanse corruption, mend blood, and anchor wandering souls. Without them, he would have been claimed by the tides."
Kaya's breath caught in her throat. "So you saved him…"
The woman smiled faintly. "No. You all did. You carried him out of death's mouth. I am simply holding him in place so he does not fall again."
Kaya stared at Moro's still body, emotions swirling inside her — relief, awe, fear. Her lips trembled. "He… he doesn't deserve this. He's fought harder than anyone I know."
The woman's expression softened. "Warriors like him always say that. But the truth is — the body heals long before the spirit does."
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THE BROKEN SPIRIT
The pool rippled. For a moment, Moro's hand twitched slightly beneath the surface. Kaya froze, eyes wide.
> "He moved!"
The woman's tone stayed calm. "A reflex. His mind is trapped between worlds — in the valley of echoes. It's where broken spirits wander. I can reach him, but I cannot pull him back. That choice must be his."
Kaya swallowed, her throat dry. "Can I… talk to him?"
The woman looked at her carefully. "You can try. But if you call him, you must mean it. Souls in fracture listen only to the heartbeat they trust most."
Kaya knelt beside the pool. The warmth of the Sisi water radiated through her hands as she touched it. Her reflection shimmered beside Moro's — both distorted by the herbal glow.
"Moro," she whispered. "You said once you'd never stop fighting until you found your father. You told me your will was forged from fire itself… So why are you quiet now?"
The herbs pulsed faintly.
The woman's eyes glimmered with faint approval. "Good. Speak with strength, not pity. The spirit must recognize life's tone."
Kaya took a breath, closing her eyes. "You can't die here, Moro. We're in a land we don't know — a kingdom full of nobles who'd rather see us bleed than breathe. You're our pillar… our will. If you stop now… everything we did was for nothing."
A faint tremor rippled through the water. Moro's fingers flexed again.
Kaya's voice broke, tears spilling down her face. "So wake up… you fool. You still owe me a fight I can't win."
The woman smiled faintly but said nothing. She bent the Sisi leaves with a gentle motion — they drifted toward Moro's body and covered him completely, layering upon one another until his body was wrapped like a cocoon.
Green light spread outward, bathing the entire room in a pulsating emerald hue.
Kaya gasped softly. "What's happening?"
> "The merging," the woman said. "The leaves are weaving into his bloodstream, stitching his energy threads together. It is a sacred art — one not meant to be seen."
Kaya stood still, mesmerized.
Moro's body was glowing — faint veins of light running along his arms, chest, and eyes. The sound of his faint heartbeat echoed through the room, slow but steady.
Yet, despite all the beauty, there was one thing missing — motion.
He remained completely still.
> "He's not… coming back," Kaya whispered.
The woman sighed. "Not yet. You see only the body. But the man is still lost in his own abyss."
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THE ARRIVAL OF HERBET
The silence was broken by the creak of the hut's door. Herbet stumbled in, his mechanical arm clicking softly as it stabilized his balance. His face was pale but alert, eyes scanning the scene.
"Good, you're awake," he said, relief flashing across his features when he saw Kaya. "I thought I was the only one conscious."
Kaya turned toward him. "How long have we been out?"
Herbet checked the cracked chrono-disc on his wrist. "Roughly… twenty hours. Maybe more. My sensors got fried in the tides."
He approached the pool and froze. "What in the— is that Moro?"
"Yes," Kaya replied. "She's healing him."
Herbet's mechanical eyes flickered as he scanned the liquid. "Energy density off the charts… the molecular composition— it's organic and etheric at once. This… this isn't ordinary herb science. It's divine alchemy."
The woman finally spoke, her voice calm.
> "You're half right, iron child. It is both science and prayer. That is what Mavaria was built on."
Herbet turned sharply. "Mavaria?"
She nodded. "You stand in the Imperial Province — the heartland of the Noble Kingdoms."
Herbet stiffened immediately. "Wait— what?! Mavaria? The Imperial City?"
Kaya's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"
Herbet's face darkened. "Positive. I confirmed it through the air composition, the resonance field, and local frequency patterns. This is the mainland — the city that vanished two centuries ago after the Noble War. The one every CD9 agent swore never to step foot in."
Kaya's expression shifted from surprise to fear. "Then we're in deep trouble…"
Herbet nodded grimly. "Exactly. If CD9 scouts are here, we'll be marked the moment we step outside this hut. They consider Mavaria a restricted realm. No outsider survives long here."
The woman chuckled softly, an eerie calmness in her tone.
> "You need not fear their scouts. No one finds this forest unless the tides permit it."
Kaya frowned. "The tides…?"
> "Yes," the woman said. "This land is alive. The sea decides who reaches its heart."
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THE WOMAN OF MAVARIA
Herbet glanced at her closely. "You're not an ordinary healer, are you?"
The woman looked up, eyes gleaming like old jewels. "I was once called Serelna of the Silver Veil — High Priestess to the Noble Council. But that was long before your wars reached our shores."
Kaya blinked. "So you're… one of the Nobles?"
Serelna smiled faintly. "Once. Now, I am simply a keeper of what remains. Mavaria is not the empire you imagine — it's a graveyard wearing a crown."
Her words hung heavy in the air.
She looked back at Moro, her expression turning sorrowful. "This one carries the energy of the fallen starline. His soul resonates with the lost blood of Jara. Tell me… who is he really?"
Kaya hesitated. "He's Moro. A fighter. A wanderer looking for his father."
Serelna nodded slowly. "Then his journey will be long. The blood he bears is old… older than this kingdom itself."
Kaya frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"
The woman smiled gently. "You'll learn soon enough."
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THE WEIGHT OF STILLNESS
Hours passed. The pool's glow dimmed slightly, settling into a steady pulse. Serelna remained by Moro's side, her eyes half-closed in meditation.
Herbet sat near the door, tinkering with his half-broken scanner, muttering to himself about energy fields.
Kaya stayed kneeling by the pool, her gaze never leaving Moro.
At one point, she whispered, "He always carries everyone's burden. He never asks for help. Even now, he's probably fighting alone in there."
Serelna opened one eye. "And that is his curse — and his strength. He is the kind of soul that makes gods nervous."
Kaya looked up sharply. "What?"
> "Do not mistake kindness for weakness," the priestess said softly. "Those who carry rage with purity… are the most dangerous of all."
Kaya fell silent, her eyes softening. "Then I'll wait. No matter how long it takes, I'll be right here."
Serelna's faint smile returned. "Then he may yet return. Love anchors deeper than any spell."
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THE FRACTURE WITHIN
Inside the pool, Moro's body was still. But within him — within the broken plane of his consciousness — storms raged.
He was standing in a world of shattered glass, floating shards of memory circling him. His own reflection stared back from every fragment — battle scenes, laughter, screams.
In the distance, a faint green light pulsed — the echo of Kaya's voice.
He tried to reach it, but every step caused the glass beneath him to crack further. His body ached with memories — Revo's blade, Kuzak's roar, his father's fading shadow.
He fell to his knees. "Where… am I?"
A faint whisper answered, echoing from everywhere.
> "Between what was… and what could still be."
He looked up, and for a moment — he thought he saw Serelna's silhouette, glowing faintly in the distance. Her voice reached him like the tide.
> "You have not been forgotten. The world still needs your fire, Moro of Jara."
The glass shimmered — faintly mending around him.
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RETURNING TO LIGHT
Back in the hut, Serelna's hand hovered over the pool. The green light intensified again — brighter than before.
Herbet shielded his eyes. "What's happening?"
Serelna's tone was steady. "He's fighting his way back."
Kaya's heart raced. "He's coming back?"
> "Slowly. His spirit is remembering how to breathe."
A faint pulse rippled through the air. The herbs began to dissolve into the water, their essence absorbed into Moro's body. His chest rose — once, twice — then steadied into rhythm.
Kaya pressed a hand over her mouth, tears streaming.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Serelna's eyes softened. "Thank him. I only guided the door. He chose to walk through it."
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AFTERGLOW
Night had fallen again. The hut glowed dimly from the last traces of Sisi energy. Moro still slept, but his color had returned, and the cracks on his skin had faded.
Herbet stepped outside, scanning the horizon.
He whispered quietly, "Mavaria… Imperial City of Nobles… What have we walked into?"
Inside, Kaya stayed by Moro's side, her fingers brushing his hair back gently.
"You're safe for now," she murmured. "But we're in a kingdom that might destroy us before we even understand it."
Serelna poured more herbs into a clay bowl, her eyes glinting knowingly.
> "You escaped death, child of fire… only to walk into the jaws of power."
Outside, thunder rumbled faintly — but it wasn't a storm this time.
It was the sound of the Imperial Bells ringing across Mavaria.
Something had stirred in the kingdom.
And word was spreading — a group of outsiders had survived the forbidden tides.
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