the beginning after the end perfect duo

Old friend

"Report. How bad are the injuries?" Sylvia asked, dropping to her knees beside us, her hands already glowing.

"Arthur... first," I wheezed, waving her off. "I can wait. My passive regen will handle the surface wounds."

That was a half-truth, but Arthur looked like a corpse that had forgotten to fall down. Sylvia didn't argue. She shifted to him immediately, her palms radiating that unique, dual-natured warmth. By now, the party had accepted that Sylvia could wield both the destructive heat of Fire and the mending light of Life, though the mechanics of it remained a mystery to them. I had my theories, but this wasn't the time to test them.

"Shattered rib cage, compound fracture in the left tibia, a collapsed lung, and... damn it, Arthur," Sylvia hissed, her eyes scanning his body. "Three missing fingers and a core so empty it's trying to consume your own life force. You shouldn't even be conscious."

"Just... patch it," Arthur grunted through clenched teeth.

I watched the process with a wince. Healing magic isn't gentle; it forces cells to divide and knit at unnatural speeds. It's agony. As Sylvia poured her mana into him, Arthur's body seized, steam rising from his mending flesh.

"That's all I can do for the bone structure without killing you from shock," Sylvia said, wiping sweat from her brow. She turned to the fire mage. "Lucas. You're next."

Lucas shook his head, leaning heavily against a stalagmite. "Check Jasmine first. She took a hit meant for me earlier. I'm fine... and that bastard," he gestured vaguely at me, "is too stubborn to die."

I was, in fact, not fine. My Phoenix Burst was burnt out, leaving me shivering and hollow. The 'passive perks' of Aurora's Gift were working, but they were excruciatingly slow. I could feel every one of the fractures in my limbs and the frostbite gnawing at my fingers from being too close to Arthur's spells.

But Lucas was right to defer. Sylvia turned toward Jasmine.

I scanned the backline. According to the novel, Jasmine survives this dungeon unscathed. She's the wind-walker; she doesn't get hit. So I watched with detached calm as she leaned against the cavern wall, a fair distance away.

"Jasmine?" Sylvia called out. "Get over here."

Jasmine didn't answer. She pushed off the wall as if to walk toward us, but her legs didn't receive the command.

She crumbled.

It happened in slow motion. Her body slid down the rough stone, and where she had been standing, a thick, glistening smear of crimson painted the grey rock.

My heart hammered against my ribs. That's not in the book.

"Jasmine!"

Sylvia was moving before Jasmine hit the floor. Arthur tried to stand and stumbled; Lucas was already limping toward her as fast as his injured leg would allow. I forced my battered body up and followed.

By the time we reached her, she was lying in a rapidly expanding pool of red.

"Look at me! Jasmine, keep your eyes on me!" Sylvia's voice cracked, losing its professional composure. Her hands hovered over Jasmine's abdomen, trembling.

Mira dropped to her knees on the other side, gripping Jasmine's hand. "We're getting out of here, okay? Just hold on. We have Sylvia. She's the best."

"Right," Lucas breathed, looming over them, his face pale. "Sylvia can fix anything. Fix her."

Arthur and I stood silently in the periphery, watching the light from Sylvia's hands turn frantic. The bleeding slowed. The torn flesh of her stomach began to knit together, sealing the horrific exit wound. Physically, she was stabilizing.