Eleazar had always been Sumeru's open wound—no cure, no mercy, only grim endurance until the body finally faltered. Clinics could dull the agony for a time, but never turn the clock back. Patients clung to willpower through each flare; most learned that "bearing it" was a kind of losing slowly.
So when Tighnari shouldered in with Collei, the healers only sighed. Another case. Another round of palliatives and prayers.
They weren't alone. Across the ward, Nilou and Dehya stood guard over a pale young woman trembling under her blankets—Dunyarzad. Her breath came in little catches, jaw set against the pain.
"You'll get through this," Nilou whispered, squeezing her hand. "You always do. We'll beat the nightmare again."
Dunyarzad gave the smallest nod; she had little strength for more.
Dehya glanced over as Tighnari eased Collei onto a cot. "Another Eleazar flare?" she asked, voice low.
"Mm." Tighnari tried to smile and failed. "Let's hope she rides it out."
He recognized the others but didn't cross the space between them. In a room like this, greetings felt indecent.
He exhaled. "Our Grand Sage has done… a lot. Forced the Doctor to apologize, returned dreams to the city." He shook his head. "But Eleazar isn't a policy problem. It's… divine. Only a god could—"
Nilou nodded miserably. "If only the Little Lord Kusanali were free…"
Their murmurs died as footsteps approached; then a startled cry from the doorway:
"G–Grand Sage? Here?"
"Should I not be?" came the even reply.
"N–no, please—this way!"
Heads turned. Idris stepped inside, the room shrinking around the quiet of his presence. Previous Sages had kept their hands clean of wards like this; he crossed the threshold as if it were any other office.
The clinic master hurried over. "Grand Sage, how may we assist?"
Idris's gaze took in both beds, then returned to the master. "I have a new medicine," he said. "It may purge the root of Eleazar."
Tighnari's ears pricked. "Have you… tested it?"
"No." Idris didn't flinch. "The pills are rare. I've had no suitable volunteers."
A beat of silence.
"So we're the trial," someone muttered—half dry, half desperate.
Idris met every eye. "Only if you consent. I'll explain clearly."
He opened a small lacquered case. Inside lay eight thumb-sized, jade-lustered pills, breathing a soft herbal warmth.
"Su Xin Dan," he said. "Pure-Heart Pill. It calms the mind and drives out hidden afflictions. Crafted from Sumeru's best herbs with a method I call pillcraft."
Dehya folded her arms. "If anything goes wrong, the blame's mine to collect."
"And mine to bear," Idris said, unbothered. "I'll take the first."
Before anyone could protest, he plucked out a pill and swallowed it dry.
Nilou gasped. Tighnari stepped forward, instinct warring with curiosity. A long breath passed. Idris's pulse stayed steady; his eyes, clear. Only the faintest glow seemed to settle in his skin, like dew in dawnlight.
"Safe for the healthy," he said. "But its virtue is for those in need."
He turned to Dunyarzad. "May I?"
Her lashes fluttered. "If… if it might let me dance again—yes."
Nilou's fingers trembled around hers. Dehya hovered, predatory and protective.
Idris placed a pill on Dunyarzad's tongue and tipped a cup of water to her lips. "Slow breaths. Let it dissolve."
The ward held still.
Warmth spread from her throat, blooming through her chest. The tight, needling ache that Eleazar stitched into her nerves began to soften, untying itself thread by thread. The mottled lines at her neck dulled a shade; the tremor in her hands eased. Color crept back to her cheeks.
"I—" Dunyarzad's eyes widened, shining wet. "It… doesn't hurt."
Nilou cried outright, laughing through it. Dehya exhaled for the first time in hours, shoulders dropping as if setting down a shield.
Tighnari's scientific voice returned on reflex. "Any dizziness? Nausea? Tingling in fingers or toes?"
"Light," Dunyarzad whispered, as if confessing a miracle. "Like waking from a bad dream."
Idris nodded once. "One pill every three days, not during a calm period. No alcohol; light meals; sleep."
He faced the next bed.
Collei had been watching with wide, wary eyes. Tighnari's jaw worked; then he bowed his head.
"If there's a chance… let her try."
Idris offered the case. "Collei?"
She swallowed. Fear, hope, and something stubborn flickered over her face. "I want to… be normal. Even for a day."
"Then let's begin." He set a pill in her palm.
Across the ward, the clinic staff leaned in despite themselves. Nilou squeezed Dunyarzad's hand again; Dehya's gaze cut to Idris, measuring and—reluctantly—approving.
Collei raised the pill.
And swallowed.
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