The tent was shallow and almost empty; it was obviously built in a hurry, not long ago. It was old and dirty, and it smelled a little moldy. That tent had clearly seen better days. The woman placed Liz on the improvised stool and began searching for medical supplies hidden in one of the boxes.

“Okay, hi. My name is Zywa, and that gloomy little brat is Shin,” she introduced herself. Her words made him frown, but he didn’t contradict her. “Let me find some aid for you, and we’ll be all set,” Zywa told her as she rummaged thoroughly through piles and piles of bags until she finally found what she was looking for. 

“There it is. I rarely use this stuff anymore. Sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said softly, then carried a first-aid bag to the patient, sat nearby, and began unloading its contents.

“You know what I don’t understand? Why is it that my powers are not working on you? I’ve never seen that before. Come to think of it, I might have an idea why that is the case, but that can’t be true.” Zywa playfully put a finger to her lips and looked up, showing off her charms and cuteness as the prettiest woman Liz had ever seen in her life. It made Shin shrug in his corner as if he saw something disgusting.

“What is it?” Liz asked softly. She was relieved that at least someone might answer all her questions about what was happening to her, to the city, to everyone.

“Well—” She sighed. 

“Please don’t look at me like I’m crazy when I say this, but there is a prophecy.” Zywa noticed the look on Liz’s face, exactly what she’d expected. “Yes… So, according to the prophecy, one day a child will be born, and that child won’t have a source; quite the opposite, that child will possess an anti-source or anti-magic. The child will have the power to consume someone’s source, someone’s magic. The Anti-Mage.” Zywa was excited to tell her all about the prophecy and whatnot; she hadn't talked like this with someone in a long time. But she quickly composed herself, realizing she needed to finish fast to go help her friends.

“And you think I’m that child?” Liz asked doubtfully. Then she remembered when Volur had asked her what happened, he also thought it was her who had something to do with the bubble.

“It looks like it, but we’ll check that later. Now let’s start with your treatment.”

“When I was sailing away from Frey, one of them threw a fireball at the boat I was in. But when it was about to hit us, it just… disappeared. I’ve been thinking about what that was, but now it makes more sense.”

“Svarog,” Shin said. His frown deepened, as if he remembered something horrible. With a long face, he turned away, leaving only silence. 

“What is that?” asked Liz. She felt dumb, as if

everyone in the world knew something but chose not to tell her, thinking she was not smart enough to understand.

“He is the one who possesses fire magic; all the meteors and fire are his fault. Svarog is one of three demon generals, the strongest and the most loyal servants of the demon king. All of them possess enormous powers, able to destroy any army or an entire empire by themselves. You should avoid them at any cost.” As she was explaining this to Liz, Zywa realized she should stop wasting time and get started.

“Okay, now it’s time for treatment,” Zywa said, trying her best to sound firm, but her overly cute face didn’t make anyone scared or obedient.

“Can you please tell me more about everything?” Liz begged. “Like, who are these demons? What happened to my dad? Tell me everything, please.” She continued, ignoring the pain that had become so intense she wanted to scream, but she kept enduring it. This was her opportunity to learn whatever the world was hiding from her, and she wasn’t ready to let that opportunity slide.

“Hmm, I guess I should explain to you what I can while I’m treating you,” Zywa said as she put on gloves. She hoped she could help Liz without using her magic. At the end of the day, she still had knowledge and skills, although she hadn't practiced surgery like normal humans in a long time.

“Why do you want to explain anything to this grandma?” objected Shin. He was worried the truth would complicate things, that a clueless child would cling to them, or that she could become hysterical, and he’d be the one dealing with it.

“Grandma, what are you talking about? I’m eleven years old, I’m hardly older than you.” Liz huffed, confused and slightly offended. What is wrong with him?

“Yeah, more like a thousand eleven,” he answered sharply. He waited for her response, and she walked right into his trap like a naive child. Then he noticed Zywa staring at him. “What? You are going to tell her the truth anyway!” Annoyed, Shin jumped up onto a box, sat cross-legged, and looked at the tent entrance.

“Enough,” Zywa said firmly. They both frowned, refusing to admit their fault. After they fell quiet, she leaned forward and began unwrapping Liz’s injured hand.

“Okay, where do I start?” Zywa took out a scalpel from the bag. Liz’s eyes widened, her pulse skyrocketed, and she began to breathe fast.

“Don’t worry, it’s going to be quick.” But that didn’t fool Liz, and she prepared for the worst. With a precise movement, Zywa pressed the scalpel against her skin, cutting off foreign material, then carefully removed each piece using forceps.