“You know, I sometimes wonder how strong your alcohol tolerance is, since you don’t seem to be the drinker type.” The woman across from Euth sighs, a glass of lemon juice in hand as she hands it over to the healer. “It’s rare for you to visit me, yet every time you do, it feels like something bad has happened recently.” The woman commented, looking over Euth with a slight pity in her eyes. 

Euth refuses to respond to the provocation, grabbing his tenth glass of lemon juice for the night, glaring at the older woman for her comment. He wasn’t sure why he visited the woman, nor did he know why he was visiting a bar out of all places. He immediately down the drink, only cringing as the sour taste goes down his throat, giving an unpleasant sensation to his teeth and mouth. 

“So, boy.” The older woman grabs the glass from Euth to refill it with more lemon juice. “Did something happen inside the kingdom? The last time you visited, you had talked my ear off about the menial tasks in the kingdom. Even my wives had to check if I was okay.” The woman smiles fondly as she hands Euth a glass full of lemon juice. 

“Madam Cyra…” Euth puts his head on the bar’s countertop. “The internal affairs of the kingdom isn’t cheap information that you could get out of me.” He stares at her, seeing through her words. 

Euth wanted to hit himself on the head, recalling the events that happened earlier in the day, how his loyalty to the prince would be his eventual downfall in the future. As at the end of their meeting, Euth had agreed to be a part of Sirius’s plan, where he’s forced to work with a member of the Thylethian’s royal faction to solve the corruption that’s currently happening in the underworld. 

He doesn’t know much about Thylethians, nor how the nation is currently fairing through the tribulations, yet he is sure that he doesn’t wish to be in any part of this. He is merely a healer, even when his official title is The Battle Healer of Eryon, his duty is like before he was promoted. Simply put, he did not know what the role of a Battle Healer is, or the duty that comes with it, he was simply playing along with the prince’s wishes. 

His face twisted into another unpleasant expression as he downs the twelfth glass of lemon juice. In all honesty, he hates alcoholic beverages—their bitter aftertaste, the sharp smell, he dislikes them, even when his ability would nullify the effects of alcohol, he would rather avoid it as a whole and settle for something else instead, like lemon juice. He’s grateful that Cyra’s bar served nonalcoholic beverages, even when most of the lots here are all good-for-nothing drunkards. 

“Okay then, how about we exchange information?” Cyra snaps him out of his trance, the sly smile on her face clarifies she wishes to know something about Euth. “I’ll give you any information that you want, and in return I want to know why you visited today.” 

“Huh? Why would you want to know such a banal thing?” Euth asks, his suspicion rises as the latter chuckles at his reaction. 

“Maybe it doesn’t seem much to you, but one of my wives is eager to know more about you.” Cyra informed, grabbing the empty glass away. “And you know I would do whatever it takes to fulfil their wishes, no matter how ridiculous it is.” 

“Then tell me more about Thylethians and their current conditions.” Euth counters. 

“Not before you tell me your reason for coming here.” Cyra chuckles at the healer’s words, looking over towards the other patrons inside the bar as if someone had caught her interest. “I put my wife’s wishes above others.”

“Madam Cyra, I hope your marriage fails.” Euth said jokingly, though there was an irritated tone in his voice from the rejection, putting his head on the countertop again as he reconsiders his words. As a part of the royal council, he has to be careful with his words lest he reveals the kingdom’s plans. He turns his gaze to the surrounding patrons, most of them are laughing and, presumably, drinking their sorrows away. Euth could do nothing but sighs as he looked towards Cyra, wordlessly agreeing with her proposition. 

“I just need to stretch my legs.” 

“Is that it?” Cyra asks, raising an eyebrow as if she doesn't believe him. 

“The prince told me I need to go outside more often.” Euth rewords his sentence, adding the prince’s involvement to satisfy Cyra’s curiosity. “He told me I am too holed up in my office, and that some more social interaction would do me some good.” 

“The prince had to tell you off? That’s interesting.” Cyra commented, her hand leaning against the countertop, amused by Euth’s answers. “What’s your relationship with the prince? You seem to speak fondly of him, though your words may not sound like it.” She continues to ask, wanting to prod more information out of Euth. 

“Tell me about Thyleth first!” Euth snaps his head back towards the woman, the corners of her mouth turning up into a satisfactory smile as she huffs out a knowing sigh. Euth could hear how other patrons snapped their heads to turn to him, all of them staring at the back of his head as if he had said something wrong. 

Euth curses underneath his breath, refusing to turn his head towards the other patrons as he glares at Cyra. The healer could do nothing but stay silent as scolds himself for his short temper, refusing to make eye contact with anyone after that. Euth should’ve known better than to fall for petty words from the woman, even though he had known her for years, Cyra still has some ways of getting under his skin. 

Just then a glass of alcohol was pushed towards the healer’s direction. 

“If you want to know more about The Land of Tyleth, couldn’t you ask a real Thylethian yourself?” A mocking voice comes from beside Euth, which instantaneously grabs his attention. “Or do you Eryonians see us as nothing more than beasts?” The man continued, grabbing Euth’s jaw to force the healer to look at him. 

Euth froze up at the sudden contact, looking directly into the man’s dark blue eyes. The healer didn’t know whether it was out of pure shock or awe, but he could feel himself captivated at the man’s beauty (for a lack of better words). There are strands of white hair that gently fall onto the man’s face, his long hair draped down his shoulders, as if they are waterfalls made by the divine beings. The only words that could encapsulate the emotional turmoil that he’s going through right now is that he’s star-struck, unable to move any muscle as he continues to stare at the man’s eyes. 

“Did you listen to me?” The man asks again, pulling Euth’s face closer to his. “Or is your Eryonian brain just that stupid?” He mocks, the grip that he has on Euth’s jaw tightened, forcing Euth to snap out of his trance. 

Euth came to a late realisation that, even though people are attractive, sometimes their personality can ruin it all. He tries to calm himself down, yet his heart keeps beating right out of his chest, realising the stranger is a hair’s breadth away. The instant he realises this, the healer’s fight reaction kicks in, not giving the stranger any chance to react as he throws a punch to the latter’s mocking grin. 

The sudden commotion had everyone turned their heads once again, this time with amusement and eagerness to see more.

“You’re too close for my liking.” Euth scoffs, flicking his wrist after the punch, glaring right into the stranger’s eyes. “And it’s unfortunate that you have an irritating way of speaking, you were quite the charm if you shut up.” He taunts the stranger, readying himself for an all out fight. 

“So you think I’m pretty, huh? It’ll be nice if you could say it without punching me.” The stranger glared back at Euth, his hair had gotten messier after the impact yet it still fell magnificently, as if it was an intentional thing. 

Euth didn’t respond to the man’s question, only taking a defensive stance as he noticed the whispers that were surrounding him. Many of the patrons looked onto him, excited for a fight to break out, their impatience radiant all throughout the bar. He ignores all of them, only looking forward to the stranger’s movements. The man’s stance was not defensive like his, yet Euth couldn’t see any malicious intent like how an offensive stance would be. The stranger seems amused at all the attention that they’re getting, turning his head to make eye contact with Euth.

“They want to see a fight.” The stranger noted, putting his hand out towards Euth. “In Thyleth, fighting can strengthen the bond between people.”

Euth rolls his eyes, thinking the idea to be ridiculous, smacking the man’s hand away as refusal. Yet try as he might, the stranger grabbed his wrist, stopping him from going out of the bar. 

“The Demiurge of Creation is the prime suspect behind Thyleth’s excessive corruption.” The man’s words had stopped Euth in his tracks, turning his head to face the stranger. The stranger seems to know that such information might not persuade Euth to not leave, as he continues his words. “What’s odd is how a small rumour talks about the demiurge’s connection with the King of The Void.” 

Euth’s attention was paid in full when the stranger mentions the King of The Void, the healer turns his body back, pulling his hand away from the man’s grip. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Euth asks, his voice turned cold as he glared at the stranger to which the latter only responded with a scoff. 

“You want information about Thylethian, and I want a good fight.” The man simply responded, suddenly grabbing onto Euth’s collar before throwing him onto the countertop.

“Eavesdropper.” Euth scoffs, dusting off his shoulders before preparing for the stranger’s next attack. 

This seems to amuse the latter allowing him to make the first move again yet this time Euth had reacted just as quick, blocking the incoming attacks from the stranger. It didn’t take long before the fight had escalated, as the stranger threw him behind the countertop—the impact causing the glasses to shatter around them as the crowd went wild. 

Euth winces in pain, looking over towards Cyra, who was sitting down on the high stool watching the fight took place. She chuckles, seeing the fight continue on, raising both of her hands as she shrugs to leave Euth to his fate. Euth curses Cyra internally, his face twisted to an angered frown as he tried to push himself off the floor to continue the fight. 

It’s clear that Euth couldn’t win this fight, as the stranger grabs him by the collar again before slamming him on the countertop, pinning Euth’s wrist with his foot. Euth cringes, searching for an object with his right hand while making eye contact with the man on top of him, unrelenting in his determination, even when he’s aware that he would lose in terms of raw strength. 

“You’re a fragile one, aren’t you?” The stranger mocked, bending forward while putting more force onto Euth’s wrist. “Since I won this round, why don’t you give me your name, healer?” 

“I’ll be the end of you.” Euth shots back, feeling a glass bottle underneath the countertop, gripping it to make sure it won’t slip from his hand as he violently slams it on the stranger’s head, glass shards flew everywhere as the sticky syrup drips down his forearm. 

There was barely any reaction from the stranger as he stared directly at Euth, as if he had seen the healer’s soul, a smile creeped up onto the latter’s face then a hearty laugh burst out of the stranger’s lips. 

“That really hurts.” The stranger smirks, touching his head on where the bottle had landed, only to find crimson red blood to flow out of his head. He looks at it with amusement, before grabbing Euth’s other hand. “My name is Kaslien.” He said, moving his foot that was on Euth’s wrist before throwing the healer by the hand into the crowd, crashing him into one of the many tables.

“Do I have to make you bleed before you tell me your name?” Kaslien questions, pulling out the chain whip out of its holder, jumping down from the countertop to approach Euth. 

Euth had become more than aware of the hidden injuries he has on his body, using his ability to patch them up before the eyes of all the patrons could even blink. He gets up with a grunt, pulling his body up to face his opponent, looking onto the string of what seems to be sharpened chains. He knows that if such a weapon would contact his body, the secret that he has hidden all these years would be exposed. 

He picks up the nearest bottle beside him, in which case is a bottle of lemon juice, and prepares himself for another round against the white-haired man. He holds up the half filled bottle towards Kaslien, some of the juice falling out of the bottle, as he provokes Kaslien to the best of his abilities. 

“I’m the best healer in the world.” Euth says with utter confidence, as he subtly pulls out a small knife from behind that he would always carry around with him, making sure that Kaslien won’t see his actions. “It’s impossible for you to hurt me.” He taunts the latter, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile as he bluffs his way through to a hopeful victory.