Under the Iron Fist

Chapter One: The Healer's Guardian

Throughout this part of the city, the air hung thick with despair, a palpable weight pressing down on Elina as she navigated the street that had long ago crumbled into the dusty path it is today. The stench of stale food and unwashed bodies assaulted her nostrils, a grim reminder of the harsh reality the weak endured within the confines of this prison they called Sanctuary.

Her gift, a curse as much as a blessing, was the ability to heal. A touch of her hand could mend broken bones, soothe burns, and staunch bleeding wounds. It was a power coveted by many within these walls, where violence was a way of life for most. But it offered no protection for herself.

As she walked, a group of children darted past her, their laughter a rare sound in this grim place. They waved at her, calling out, "Elina! Elina!" Their eyes shone with admiration and trust. For them, she was more than just a healer; she was a protector, a source of comfort in their harsh world.

Her gaze fell upon a young boy with dirty blonde hair huddled in a doorway, she didn't know this child. He was new to the city, his round face contorted in pain, a fresh gash bleeding freely on his freckled arm. A burly man, likely the culprit, sneered at the child. Elina's stomach churned with anger and pity. She knew what could happen to the boy if his wound festered: a slow, agonizing death.

Despite the gnawing fear that always accompanied such acts of defiance, Elina approached the boy. The man, noticing her intent, strode towards her, his face twisting into a menacing grin.

"Stay away from him, pet," he growled. "He needs to learn his lesson."

Elina stood her ground, her voice steady as she thought of all the children who looked up to her. "He needs help. He's just a child."

The man laughed cruelly. "You know the way it is here girl. Might makes right, little healer. Remember that."

He shoved her roughly aside, but Elina, fueled by her determination to protect the innocent child, reached out and touched the boy's arm. A warm energy flowed from her fingertips, and the bleeding stopped almost instantly. The boy looked at her with wide, grateful eyes, mirroring the trust she saw in all the children she cared for.

The man, enraged, raised his fist to strike her, but a cold voice cut through the air.

"Leave her be, Gorgon."

All eyes turned towards the source of the command - a tall, imposing figure with a hard face and piercing blue eyes that seemed to radiate an icy aura. Magnus, the ruler of their prison, stood in the distance, his gaze locked on Elina.

As Magnus moved towards them, Elina instinctively placed herself between him and the boy, her stance protective. She knew her defiance might cost her, but she couldn't abandon the children who depended on her. In this moment, she was more than just a healer; she was a guardian, standing between the innocent and the cruelty of their world.

As Magnus approached Elina, his presence caused the crowd to part like water. Even Gorgon, the brute who had threatened her moments ago, cowered and backed away. Elina felt her heart racing, but she stood her ground, lifting her chin defiantly as Magnus came to a stop before her.

"Elina," he said, his voice smooth as silk but edged with danger. "Always the compassionate one, aren't you?"

She swallowed hard, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Someone has to be."

A cold smile played at the corners of Magnus's lips. "Indeed. And that's why you're so... valuable to me." His gaze flickered to the boy, who was now trying to make himself as small as possible. "Run along, child. Consider this a lesson learned."