At first, she had not wanted to treat him.
The reason was simple.
She had thought he was a half-elf.
She was one of the elves who despised diluted blood. She did not hide that belief in her heart. She had carried it for centuries, refined it over time until it felt like principle rather than prejudice.
So when the report arrived and mentioned that the youth carried a faint sense of kinship, her first reaction upon seeing him was disgust.
Then she learned he was not a half-elf.
He was from a completely different race.
That revelation surprised her even more.
Still, since he was not a half-elf, she had no problem treating him.
As she had been briefed, his soul was severely damaged. Normally, that would have been a difficult case, even for her. But his foundation was strong. That strength was what kept him from collapsing entirely, and it was also why the injury was not beyond her ability to heal.
At least, that was what she believed at the start.
