The question hung in the ward like a blade.
"More or less," Idris said. No softening, no sales pitch—just the truth. Faces tightened. A cure with no trials? From a Sage whose predecessors had earned only curses?
Before the doubt could calcify, Dunyarzad's muffled groan tore across the room. Nilou clutched her hand; Dehya's jaw set. On the next bed, Collei stared at her own trembling wrist, then at Tighnari's conflicted eyes, and lifted her chin.
"Grand Sage… I'll be your trial."
"Collei, you—" Tighnari began.
"It's alright, Master." She pushed a small smile through the pain. "I've been experimented on before. I'm not afraid of this. And… the Doctor's schemes—I hate him. If the Grand Sage stopped him, then… thank you." She drew a breath. "I believe he's not like the Sages of the last five hundred years."
Silence shifted. Tighnari stepped back, granting space, even as his hands curled into uneasy fists.
Idris didn't waste a heartbeat. He picked up a Su Xin Dan, poured a cup of water, and—far less ceremoniously than he meant to—set the pill on Collei's tongue. His fingertip brushed her lip; she flushed but closed her eyes and swallowed.
Five minutes drew out like wire.
Then the change came.
The ugly scales at her wrist began to recede, melting under a faint, cool glow that spread along her skin. Color rallied in her cheeks. The tension in her shoulders eased as if a hidden weight slid from her bones. She sat up, tentative, then touched her wrist and ankle in disbelief.
"Master… the patches— they're gone." Her voice broke on a laugh; tears followed. For the first time in years her own skin met her fingers, warm and smooth.
Tighnari leaned in at once, instincts snapping back into place. "Any dizziness? Nausea? Tingling?"
"Only… light," Collei said, soft and awed. "Like waking up right."
Idris rested a hand on her hair. "Good. Your system hasn't finished drawing in the medicine. There's a chance of rebound while the roots are dying off. You'll take a second pill tonight—half-dose if your pulse quickens, full dose if it stays steady. Tighnari will judge."
He glanced to Nilou and Dehya, then to the next bed. "Dunyarzad."
Nilou's grip tightened, protective and hopeful at once. Dehya's eyes were knives for anything that dared go wrong.
Dunyarzad swallowed, conflicted for a heartbeat—some small, stubborn part of her still wished the savior at her bedside were the Little Lord Kusanali. The feeling was absurd and a little traitorous; it felt strangely like having a miracle… borrowed by someone else, and she had no proof of anything except the easing in her chest.
"I'm ready," she whispered.
Idris didn't bring a second pill; he brought his fingertips to her wrist. "Your first dose is still holding," he said after a long, quiet count. "No second today. Three days, then another—leave a pill with Nilou, and follow the same precautions: no alcohol, light meals, early sleep."
Relief rippled through the room.
"Clinic Master," Idris added without turning, "I'll leave four pills here under your seal. Issue them only to acute cases under Tighnari's supervision. Side effects to watch for: racing pulse, cold sweat, sudden fatigue. If any emerge, sit the patient up, water in sips, and call me."
The master bobbed so hard his cap nearly fell. "Y–yes, Grand Sage!"
Dehya blew out a breath she'd been holding for hours. "Owe you one," she said, voice low. "Try not to collect too many markers at once."
Nilou's eyes glittered. "Thank you," she whispered to Idris, then to Dunyarzad: "You'll dance again."
Across the bed, Collei dabbed at her cheeks and looked up at the man everyone called tyrant, monster, reformer—take your pick. She found, past the calm and the iron, something stubbornly kind.
"I trusted you," she said, surprising herself with how steady it sounded.
Idris's reply was simple. "Good. Now rest."
Outside, the city would roar with rumors before dusk. Inside the ward, the noise softened to a hum of careful instructions, measured pulses, and the rustle of fresh blankets.
Above them all, almost unnoticed, a green glow paused at the lintel—an unseen goddess watching, worry unwinding in her chest—and then drifted on.
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