Not a Death Unmourned
Arc sat down at the platform where Doga and Umei had been, only a few
moments ago. He hoped that there would be some kind of good afterlife
for the two of them, the immortals that had helped them out. He, like
the others, had been devastated by the events of a few minutes ago,
when the two of them had insisted on the four of them killing them, in
order to get the energy for the Eureka key.
Arc didn't care at all about the key, just about the two of them, the
ones that had sacrificed themselves for them. He hoped someday that the
death, the dying would stop. That the enslavements, the pain, the
darkness would end. That the four of them could defeat Xande, defeat
the darkness, save the world.
He looked down at his sleeves. He was the one who healed, though he was
more scholarly otherwise. Ingus had taken on the books of the scholar,
and Rufia the bells of the geomancer, but he had remained the same ever
since he could take on the power of healing. Without him, the others
would be dead twenty, a hundred times over.
Arc wished he could have saved Umei and Dogga. What good were healing
powers if you couldn't save the ones that mattered?
He shook his head, wishing that he knew.
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