The Thanatos Prophecy #1 [Rewritten As The Shroud Of Sharayar]

Night VIII

Night VIII
Far From Home

Mahad wasn't sure what to think about his current predicament.

Recently, the sixteen-year-old's house had seemingly become a sort of safe haven for whatever refugees felt like cannonballing straight into their lives. He didn't know what this sudden change meant for his already disastrous tale.

Then there was his younger sister, Hathor.

He had been utterly appalled to see the normally controllable young redhead come home with a crime scene straight from a horror play held in the theater. He didn't know how he could manage to curb any damages this time.

She then proceeded to explain that she had brought the poor boy there to him to heal him.

How am I supposed to heal, well, that? He stared in disbelief at the almost gaping hole left in the boy's stomach.

The brunette had just barely managed to live due to some sort of enchantment protecting him. He had read about it somewhere...

What he really wanted to know, was what exactly, the boy had gone through to end up with such severe injuries such as those that he had.

Sighing at his misfortune, he glanced at the medical supplies that Hathor had gotten, narrowing his eyes in concentration. Turning back to the foreigner on the bed, he started his mediocre healing spell, hands adjusted accordingly over his figure.

He closed his eyes, words spilling from his lips as he tensed his face in focus. An ancient magical language fell out, one only he understood.

"O' spirit of the divine and just, I offer up my vessel in sacrifice to you.

Dwell within me, and through my limbs, cleanse me.

Bestow upon me the ability to heal all who kneel before me.

So it is said, it will be done," Mahad finally opened his eyes, a green light glowing around his body as the wind picked up in the room, rocking everything inside.

His clothes fluttered gently in the breeze, as he stared blankly at the male lying before him. He could feel the mana gathering in his fingers, preparing to heal every inch of the boy's body if necessary.

Deciding he had finally gathered enough, he stated the spoken word that would be said to realize the spell as true.

"Apollo," he finally revealed the phrase, watching his set task take effect.

A green light filled the room as it covered the boy entirely, his face tensed in concentration. Trembling from the high mana usage, he forced himself to stay upright, determined to see the healing through.

Slowly, his stomach mended itself, gluing itself together with enough strength that he could eat when needed. The cells replicated, fulfilling their original duties, producing the acids necessary for digestion. Next was the dermis of the skin, sewing itself slowly back together as his nerves reformed, his blood vessels reapplied. Finally, the epidermis closed shut, still tender on both sides as his heavy breathing slowed, returning to a normal level.

A few other less severe injuries disappeared also, finishing the last of Mahad's accumulated mana. Losing his focus, he collapsed from the exertion, gasping for air.

"Hah... hah..." the redhead panted, hands pressed on his thighs as he kept himself from fainting right there.

He had never performed such a great level of healing before, he acknowledged in his mind, he probably wouldn't be able to use any more magic for the rest of the week, if he was lucky.