Healed

Zevan glared at the fake Jarett and clenched his fists until his nails dug into his skin, suppressing his desire to kill him once again. He was not powerful enough. The man would squash him like a fly in an instant.

"Why do you have to defy me, Zevan?" The imposter clicked his tongue and squatted before him as he observed his injuries, running his gaze all over him. His concerned expression startled the young mage and his mind went blank for a moment.

Even though the healer had tended to him, Zevan still had injuries. The imposter sensed them the moment he arrived inside the room. His amusement vanished and a rare expression of seriousness appeared on his face. 

Zevan felt the hair stand on end. Even though his focus was elsewhere, he did not miss the man's dark gaze on him. It was as if he was holding himself back from lashing out.

"He should not have touched you," the fake Jarett mumbled, gaining Zevan's attention. 

Even Elion looked at him, dread filling his heart. An ominous settled around him and he felt stifled and uncomfortable as if something was suppressing him.

"He is going to bear the brunt of his deeds," the imposter promised and Zevan's blood ran cold.

"What are you trying to do? Why are you here?" he asked cautiously, too frightened to even think about what the man or his Lord wanted to do.

"Me?" The imposter looked at him in astonishment. "I am here to heal you. Our Lord will not be happy to see you injured."

"He is not any Lord of mine," Zevan retorted, disliking the mere thought. He would choose to drink a bowl of poison rather than accept the devil as his Lord.

"Soon, you will be singing a different tune. Now, be silent, and let me heal you." The imposter held his hand up and a ball of green light emerged on his palm instantly. 

Even from where he was, Zevan felt the warmth. But he was unwilling to get any help from the devil or his followers. He scooted away instantly, increasing the distance between them.

Yet, the imposter remained unperturbed and he directed the ball of green light towards Zevan.

Zevan could not even put up a fight. He was helpless. Even if he moved away, the ball of green light kept chasing him. It was as if it was determined and even picked up speed until it vanished into him. A strange kind of warmth spread through him and instantly, all his discomfort vanished. Even his wounds from the past were healed.

Zevan's eyes widened in disbelief and he gaped at the imposter as if he was some outwardly being. If he was not an evil person, he would have revered him with all his heart.

The imposter smiled at him before he repeated the procedure with Elion. "I am healing him because he is your master. Otherwise, I would not have even taken a look at him," the imposter revealed in all honesty.

In the entire kingdom, only Zevan mattered to him. Everyone else did not hold any importance. They were all destined to die one day anyway.

"We did not ask you to heal us," Zevan remarked snarkily.

"You did not, but that does not mean I did not wish to. You are my sworn brother and I cannot see you in discomfort," the imposter said seriously, his eyes filled with emotions Zevan could not discern. "Moreover, our Lord will be displeased to learn about your injuries."

"I am not your sworn brother. You are my enemy who I intend to kill."

"You may not be my sworn brother now. But we never know what will happen in the future," the imposter countered Zevan's argument.

Zevan remained silent, too tired to argue with him. Instead, he closed his eyes while his shoulders drooped. He understood that the man was not here with ill intentions. So, he did not put up a fight anymore. He was mentally too exhausted to handle him.

"Not to worry. Harold will not go unscathed. His actions will have repercussions and I will make sure of it."

Zevan's eyes snapped open at once and his heartbeat spiked. 

Even Elion was alarmed and he stiffened in caution. His mind started to produce strange thoughts, each more terrifying than the other.

"You will not do anything," Zevan warned him and the imposter let out a chuckle in happiness.

"I will not do anything. Do not worry," he assured. 

But his words only served to heighten Zevan's worry and his face lost all color when the realization dawned upon him.

"You have predicted it right. Our Lord will punish Harold himself for what he did."

"No, no, no, no, no." Elion shook his head as fear engulfed him. "Please do not harm His Majesty. Please," he begged, losing his demeanor and composure. He even knelt before the fake Jarett to stop him from harming King Harold.

"You do not have to plead with me. I do not hold the reigns here. Since Harold dared to harm one of the Lord's subjects, he has to be punished for his deeds. As to what the punishment would be," he smirked, his eyes lighting up with sinister intentions. "I too do not know. Pray that our Lord does not kill your king."

"No, no, no. You cannot do this. You absolutely cannot." Zevan stood up and glared daggers at the imposter. "I will not allow the Lord to harm my king.

"The same king who did not hesitate even once to kill you?" the imposter asked, his face turning dark in anger. He was absolutely livid. "Is he even worthy of you respecting him?"

"Is it not because of you?" Zevan retaliated, his blood boiling in fury and disgust. "And why would he trust me instead of his son?"

"And that was why I advised you not to reveal the truth about me. But you did not heed my words." The man looked at him in pity and clicked his tongue, ignoring Elion who was still kneeling by his feet.

"You were foolish to not listen to me. Do not repeat the mistake in the future. But Harold is a sinner and will be punished for sure."

The man smiled assuringly and looked at Elion before vanishing from the place.