As Edwin boiled the blood root, he watched Hadrian get the boy through the forced coughing exercise. He was patient when the boy gave him frowns, not certain that the exercise had any positive points to it.

“Eddy had an old grump do it, and he got better. Right, Eddy?” Said Hadrian in his carefree way. Edwin stirred the root. It had to disintegrate. He couldn’t risk the kid getting low blood pressure or, worse, go into a coma.

“Bern is indeed well now. What is your name, lad?” Asked Edwin. The small root stubbornly floated before his eyes, although it had been in boiling water for an hour. There was plenty of residue, but he wanted to make sure he got the dosage right.

“Ben Noye, Eddy. Harry, for how long do I continue to cough?” Asked Ben. Hadrian had introduced himself as Harry, not bothering with his real name. Edwin thought about correcting the boy, but then reconsidered.

If this was attempted genocide, it would be best if he remained unknown. There was no telling if even the Surian Theocracy was to blame. This could be the act from one of the countries from the West continent, for all Edwin knew. He would get to heal these people regardless.

“Until Eddy tells you to stop,” said Hadrian as he patted Ben’s back reassuringly.

“Keep at it until the root disintegrates,” said Edwin without looking at them. The boy was going to be healed, but how were they going to explain his lack of chains to the guards?

Does he tell them they were stopping blood circulation? Would the guard who led them here agree to say he had given them the key? Would the ancient law that stated that prisoners used as test subjects by healers will be set free if they survived be upheld?

“Ben, for what do the guards have proof about your…activities,” said Edwin, trying to be delicate about the whole ordeal.

“One house and several rumors. I was playing it safe, too. I took just one roll of cheese. By the way, the lady of the house was screeching in the courtroom, you’d think it was made of gold,” Ben laughed bitterly and Hadrian sighed.

“Well, you know what they say. No forgiveness for the chicken,” said the seasoned thief to the young one. “Who is taking care of your family?”

“No one. They nearly got their hands looped off too, but then the lady took pity on them,” Then Ben lowered his head and snuffled. “Hard not to take pity on two toddlers.”

“Is there an orphanage in the town?” Asked Hadrian, sounding concerned. Ben glared at him.

“Does this shithole look like it has something as fancy as an orphanage? Last I heard, they got taken in by the town’s washer woman. Not as charity cases but as workers. Their hands are probably so damaged by now, they cry every night. All that for some food here and there. It is not fair!” Screamed Ben. Hadrian hugged him as the small boy began to hit his back with his small fists.

“We’ll fix this, right, Eddy?” Asked Hadrian. Edwin looked at the picture they made, two thieves, two outlaws, and felt shame. Sure, for Hadrian stealing was either a sickness of the mind or for amusement, Edwin didn’t know. But the boy had tried to feed himself and his siblings.

He found he couldn’t look away from the two. He found he hated the part of himself that sounded like a traditional healer, and told him that there was nothing he could do about the boy or his family. That, because of the lack of chains, they were already in trouble.

In a way, this was no different from treating a sickness. Except this one couldn’t be cured with herbs and mana. It required commitment. Not only that, but there must be a thousand boys just like this one in Duria alone. Does he help all of them? He wanted to. He truly did.

“We will do our best, Ben,” said Edwin, then, as Hadrian was not turning to look at him, he added. “And your life will be better than it is now. Believe me.”

Hadrian turned to him and nodded, probably realizing that Edwin was straining to promise even that. He gave the now unresistant boy one last gentle squeeze and then sat back in his chair.

“Ok, Ben. Breath in, breath out. On three, cough,” said Hadrian, and Bed resumed his struggle with the therapy.

As the sun rose, the stubborn root finally was no more. The strange thick thing, blood-red, was all that was left of the blood root. There was more in there than for a single person. Edwin looked at Hadrian and called him to his side.

“Call in any volunteers. Remind them that they might earn their freedom with this. We will skip the coughing therapy and go straight to mana vibrations with them. It will be faster,” said Edwin. Hadrian nodded, his eyes bright and shining. He seemed to find no reason to hide anymore.

“And if more prisoners turn up cured, the guards won’t be able to say we lucked out with the only healthy one. Good thinking, Eddy,” and then he was off with an energetic bounce to his step.

“You are so totally never having children. People who play for the same team never do,” said Ben with a chuckle. “Not that I am judging you. He is nice.”

Edwin sputtered and raised a finger at Ben.

“I will have you know I play for the opposite team, thank you very much. But my one true love is healing,” said Edwin. He was well practiced with this speech. He told his mother often enough growing up.

“You keep telling yourself that. Do I need to eat that thing?” Asked Ben as Edwin carried a bowl with the sludge to him.

“Every last bite, Ben. And keep a bucket next to you for when you start barfing,” said Edwin with an evil smirk on his face.

“Was I going to have to eat that big of a dose if I hadn’t called you a queer?” Asked Ben as he speared the sludge with his spoon.

“To accuse a healer of petty revenge is unseemly,” said Edwin. Truth be told, he had gotten about the same amount that he himself had eaten in Bern and Leila’s hut. But if Ben thought better about crossing him in the future, then, what was a little deception?