The Crest

In another world Healers are not saints; they are weapons.

Born with the rare ability to manipulate life itself, Healers can mend shattered bones, cleanse poisoned blood, attached dismembered body parts and even snatch souls from death's grip. On the battlefield, they are the ultimate game-changers. One Healer can keep an army standing long after it should have fallen. Their presence turns defeat into victory.

But their power comes at a cost. Not to themselves, but to their freedom.
So rare that only a handful are born each generation, Healers are marked by a glowing crest on their right-hand unmistakable sigil that brands them as prey. Slavers stalk them across kingdoms, eager to sell them on the black market. To Kings and nobles offer fortunes for a single Healer, locking them behind gilded walls and bleeding their power for their own personal gain. To warlords, a weapon for conquest.

In a world ruled by power, conquest, and fear, a Healer is not a person.
They are a weapon. A prize. A Prey.

And some... are done being used.