"Who is that? Who would walk through the middle of town looking like that?"
"You haven't heard?"
"That's the one they call the Crazy Immortal."
A third voice cut in. "After what happened in the forest, it's 'Crazy Immortal Goblin' now."
Another spoke in a whisper. "What happened?"
"They say he ran into a group from the Broken Crown who were peacefully gathering herbs and medicinal plants." The speaker lowered their voice even further.
"Then he slaughtered them. All of them. Yelling, 'I'm a goblin,' over and over."
Rune limped past without looking their way.
He had used cheap healing potions, but after everything he had endured, they had only done enough to patch the surface.
His arm was still scorched, burns crawling along his skin, and his foot throbbed where he had been forced to tear himself free.
The places where crystal had pierced his body were sealed now, skin closed over the wounds. The damage beneath remained. Bones broken. Muscles protested every step.
'So the guy I let go really spread the story.'
Rune exhaled quietly as he smacked a hand to his face.
'Can't believe I yelled the goblin thing though, that one is on me.'
A small building stood at the edge of the main district, pressed up against one of the city's quieter, half empty districts.
Its walls were plain, its door worn smooth by time. Above it hung a hand carved wooden sign, etched in a language most could not read.
It read simply:
'Healer'
Rune pushed the door open.
A chorus of wooden chimes stirred overhead, their hollow tones whistling softly as he stepped inside.
"Treya, y'got yer work cut out fer y'tonight," he said around a mouthful of meat, shoving one of the skewers deeper between his teeth as he spoke.
A curtain near the back rustled.
An elven woman stepped out from the adjoining room, her short red hair framing sharp features softened only slightly by the loose robes she wore.
"You couldn't wait to eat until after you came to see me?"
"The street vendor would've closed," Rune replied, still chewing. "This was m'reward fer all the pain."
She scoffed lightly. "You are just as rude as the other humans. Possibly worse, considering you aren't offering this beautiful lady the other skewer you are holding."
Rune glanced at her.
Then at the meat.
Then back at her.
"I thought elves were vegetarians."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Whoever told you that has never met an elf." She crossed her arms. "The price of healing just went up. Coin and meat."
She tilted her head toward the back room.
"So hand it over, and sit down. Let's see just how broken that body of yours really is."
Rune reluctantly handed over his prized meat skewer and moved deeper into the room. He lowered himself onto a carved wooden bench facing a small wooden statue set against the far wall.
A goddess.
Every time he sat here, something stirred in his chest. A quiet pull he could never quite explain. He had known her name long before Treya had ever spoken it.
"Sylvaryn, protector of all living things."
Treya's voice broke the moment.
"Thanks for taking off whatever was left of that tattered mess you were wearing without me having to ask this time."
She stepped closer.
Then she stopped.
A sharp breath slipped from her as her eyes traced the damage riddling Rune's body. Burned skin. Deep bruising. Half healed wounds layered over older scars.
"What did you get yourself into this time?" she asked quietly. "This is the worst I've seen you."
She frowned, gaze lingering.
"And that's saying something. You've been in bad shape before."
Treya was one of the few who had helped Rune since the beginning. Like the blacksmith and the innkeeper, she had been someone he was told he could trust, someone who would never speak of his sudden arrival in this world.
Her words were often sharp. Her tone rarely gentle.
And yet, compassion always lingered beneath them.
She placed her hands against Rune's back.
Green light bloomed beneath her palms, swelling outward as she drew on her element. The air grew warm, heavy with life.
"Sylvaryn," she whispered, voice steady. "Grand protector of all living things. Even though you and the other gods abandoned us in this world, guide my hands now."
The light brightened.
"Without you, he struggles. He falters. And yet he fights on for the sake of everyone."
Rune let out a quiet breath. "I feel like every time I come here, your prayers get more and more…"
She cut him off.
"How else should one speak to a deity who left without explanation?" Her words were harsh, but the longing beneath them was unmistakable.
She pressed her hands more firmly against his back.
"And be quiet. Talking slows the healing."
The green light surged.
Warmth spread through Rune's body as wounds closed and pain receded. Torn muscles knit themselves together. Broken bones realigned and mended. One by one, the injuries he had carried into the room faded beneath the steady flow of Treya's element.
"Alright. You're all set. Your wounds are healed."
Treya looked Rune up and down slowly.
"But my healing doesn't fix everything."
Rune rolled his shoulder, then shook out his leg. He flexed his fingers, testing the strength in his arm.
"What do you mean? I feel great. You did an amazing job, like always."
She wrinkled her nose.
"You smell. Worse than humans usually do. You need to bathe."
"I was going to stop by a weaver's shop," Rune said. "Gorthmir told me to ask them about turning some of the crystal webbing I got into armor and clothes."
Treya crossed her arms, her expression sharpening into something almost motherly.
"No, you will not go meet new people smelling and looking like that. Go back to your inn. Bathe. Go in the morning."
"Fine. Fine. Fine." He sighed, then smiled at her. A genuine one. "Thanks again for helping me survive here. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."
He turned and pushed the door open. The wooden chimes whistled softly as he stepped outside.
Behind him, her voice carried through the doorway.
"Remember the fee change next time."
A pause.
"Coin. And meat."