Those questions had answers, and Esper took me to the person who could provide them. She didn't stay, only telling me to wait here until Dorian or Rægnor came to fetch me and that she would deal with the Verndari.

I took one last glance over my shoulder as she headed toward the mine. Maybe we could trade places?

A few deep breaths later, I stood outside the [Tailor]'s shop, hand raised to knock.

Is this really the best idea?

I'd never seen her pleased to be interrupted, especially not during the middle of a workday—which, for her, seemed to be all hours of the day. And now, I came bearing the opposite of a gift.

I glanced down at my white coat. It needed help, and only one person here could fix it.

I took a long breath and moved to knock. Just as my hand went to hit the door, it flung open. I stumbled forward into the room.

Kyria Rhaptis's voice, not hiding a bit of amusement at my stumbling, came from across the room. "Took you long enough."

She sat in the back, a colorful shawl over her shoulders, working with some fabric at a table. She never looked up from her work. "So, she left you here with me? Kind of daring, don't you think?"

I snorted. "I know you're dangerous—just not to me."

"Oh," she laughed, "such a naïve little boy. So, do you think your Master—" Though her eyes never left her work, she caught my reaction. "Huh, not surprising. 'Master' doesn't seem like a word you'd approve of. Let's go with…" Pressure wormed its way through my thoughts, and instinctively, I resisted it. "Oh, look at how strong you've become." The mental force pushed harder, cracking my walls like eggshells. I braced for pain or any sense of intrusion, but nothing came. Instead, she just said, "I think she went with 'Senior.'"

My mouth fell open.

Did she just—

"No, boy, I didn't read your mind or… did I?"

Once again, my blood ran cold. She ranked near the top of my list of the most dangerous people in this place. Still, I managed to put up a front. "But really, how did you know I was there?"

"Boy, so many reasons, but you're holding the main one. You don't think I'd recognize my work sitting right outside my door?"

"Did you put a tracker in my white coat and scrubs?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yeah, I would."

"And what would you do about it?"

I ground my teeth. "Absolutely nothing."

She still didn't look up from her work. Her hands hadn't even slowed. "Exactly."

"It would still be nice to know." She just snorted. "Fine. Old women get to be mysterious."

Her hands stopped, and her eyes narrowed at my jab. The air in the room stilled. A faint scent of ozone filled the air. The back of my neck prickled.

Oh, crap. What have I done?

I started to beg forgiveness when she started laughing. For the first time, she looked up from her work. "Oh, dear, you are so much fun to mess with. You're right, I am an old lady." She waggled a finger at me. "But let me tell you, I've kept secrets since I was half your age."

"Honestly, I'm not sure what to make of that."

"And that itself is telling."

I sighed. "I feel like I'm failing here."

"It's endearing."

I frowned. "Is it?"

"To me. One more reason you're such a good friend for that insufferable brat."

And by insufferable brat, she means Dorian—the key to keeping on this woman's good side. Lucky for me, he makes that easy.

"Speaking of," I lifted my damaged clothing, "I don't think he is going to be pleased about this."

"No, he will not be." She sighed. "I must say, this happened faster than expected."

My eyebrows crinkled. "Faster than expected?"

"You're a fresh Tier II in this place. Enhanced fabric does not mean increased strength—not unless you have a skill." She gave me a once-over. "Which you don't."

"I'm not sure how I should take that."

"However you want. You're trying to be a [Healer], not a [Warrior]. Though you might want to look into something if you plan on running into these situations with some frequency."

"I'm not," I grumbled. "They keep running into me."

A genuine smile crossed her lips. "Oh, you are quite entertaining." She waved to me. "Now give them here. Today is reasonably calm. I have time to look at them."

"You're sure? I'm happy to return later. I don't want to bother you."

She gave me a flat stare. "You wanted to, and you did. Boy, a word of wisdom for you. When a very powerful, busy old woman offers you her time, you accept it immediately."

I took the hint and brought the clothes to her. She gestured to an empty table, and I laid them down across the table, front up, leaving the beat-up sweater on the floor. She got up from her chair, knees popping, and walked over to the table.

Her eyes roved over the clothes, lingering on the areas with the most damage. Not once did she touch them. "Hmmm."

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"Can you fix them?"

"Obviously, but it's going to cost you."

"What's the damage?"

Her brows furrowed. "You can see it as well as I do."

I shook my head. "Sorry, I meant, how much will it cost me?"

She crossed her arms, her eyes twinkling. "Well, boy, I am not sure you can afford me."

I rolled my eyes. "I couldn't afford you the first time either." But if she wants a negotiation, I will give her one. "How about I trade you the story of what happened?"

She actually laughed at me. "Those are table stakes."

It took me a second to process that. Table stakes. "You gamble?"

She gave me a look. "Like I said, I've been keeping secrets since I was half your age."

"Fine. I know this will help you level in some way. I will submit to minimal weekly testing."

"You seem very confident about my class's progression." I kept my face like stone. Her lips pressed together, and she shook her head side-to-side. "Huh. You might be better at cards than I thought. But minimal is not enough. I will need blood and some of your Mark."

I shuddered reflexively at the memory of that "biopsy" required for the Essence enchantments. "I don't have any more of that salve."

"But you're in the perfect place to get it," she replied, ending with a slight lilt.

My palms had gone clammy, but I resisted the urge to wipe them on my pants. "That is a big ask. It's a piece of my Spark." I got an eyebrow raise at that. Point to me? "One small piece—once—and free repairs for the rest of my time here."

"So the young apprentice is actually fulfilling her role. Because I am gracious, I will put that tidbit in the payment tally."

Did I just—no, she's messing with me. If she deduced the titles Esper and I would land on, then she knew Esper would educate me. "Then I guess we have a deal."

"Ha! As if. My time is valuable, and I will not incentivize you to damage my work."

She didn't counteroffer, but she didn't need to. She had all the power here. I would not put myself through another shaving of my Mark unless I absolutely had to. "I have a skill that lets me remove a thing's Spark. I can help you with crafting, perhaps even making null materials."

She chuckled. "You're offering me something I already have, and I wouldn't trust a neophyte like you around my materials. You don't even understand what null materials are. You cannot cleanse an object's Spark and make a null material. While it's true that applying Energy will no longer generate an effect, stripping away a Spark always leaves scars. Null materials are special because they are unscarred. For normal materials, techniques can, at best, degrade the material's essence enough to allow another essence to coexist. As I told you before, it's why most find a material that resonates with them. Your materials were phenomenal, but not pure. Nothing is, not even from a null zone. After another month in this area, they'd be like everything else here. Now, what else can you offer me?"

Nothing.

We both knew it, and I had no other choice. "Fine. You may have a piece of my Mark only if the damage is equal to this or greater."

"And all the rest of the damage is free?"

"All these clothes have [Self-Mending] or the equivalent. With your skill, repairing an undershirt has to be trivial. We are really talking about the white coat and the scrubs, and didn't you say that, as I grew in strength, they would be even better at repairs?"

"It still takes my time, which is very valuable. I must insist on a weekly visit and a biweekly donation of your Mark."

"No, that is too much. I won't risk injuring my Marks. But regardless of what happens, I will agree to one 'donation' before we leave this camp so that you can compare the changes." Her lips drew together, but I cut her off. Sorry, Dorian. I will make it up to you. "I will also bring Dorian to every weekly check-in, but you're paying for the salve and materials."

"Deal."

Damn. She agreed far too quickly.

She patted my shoulder. "Don't worry, young man. You did well for a novice. You might actually be able to teach that insufferable brat a thing or two at the table."

I sighed. Victory? "I'll take it, I guess."

"You'd better. And I'm going to hold you to our agreement, starting now."

She gestured to the clothes, and I took my cue. I told her of the fight with the raptors and the direwolves. She listened quietly, only asking the occasional question. By the end of it, her gaze lingered—weighing me—then held. She gave me a nod before tapping the sleeve of my coat with a wooden rod. "You left out how this sleeve got damaged twice. If the raptor didn't do it, what did?"

"How did you—never mind, probably some skill." I sighed. "My Senior had teaching methods that I disagreed with and decided to plunge a knife into my arm as a way to end the discussion."

She tsk-tsked. "Gotta be careful with irritating [Healers]. They don't seem to understand that even if you can fix it, it doesn't mean you should break it." She hummed. "And your coat healed that with just your blood?"

"Yes." I'd never forget that moment.

"How fast? Less than a count of ten?" I nodded, and her eyes became alight with excitement. "Did you notice something helping you in your battles?"

"I…" I shrugged. "I think so. So much is a blur when the direwolf—let's just say it decided to use my left arm as a chew toy. But I think something helped with the strain of the skills when I most needed it."

She cackled, then clapped. "You didn't imagine it, young man. That was your coat and these…what did you call these?" She pointed to my scrubs.

"Scrubs."

"Yes. Those. Your coat's the strongest, but both have started to resonate with you. If I had to guess, it has begun to integrate your healing skills and whatever else it supported you with." [Quicken Thoughts]. "I won't make you tell me, but I may offer you some wisdom for that small tidbit."

My eyes narrowed. "I will think about it."

"Good. Good. Now, tell me what you have done to help with the clothes mending."

I described the white coat's and scrubs' original states and what happened after I put the sweater and undergarments on them, ending with their current state. "And as you can see, the sweater ended up as nothing but rags—bloodless rags—but still rags. The undershirt remained intact, though free of blood. By the way, those [Self-Cleaning] and [Self-Mending] enchantments are amazing."

"Of course they are. I did them." She leaned in and examined the coat more closely. "This is more impressive than I thought. I couldn't put in a [Self-Mending] enchantment. While most Essence enchantments have some ability to repair, they typically aren't this good. But you're a [Healer]. Some of that skill should have transferred over. You likely did not have enough of the proper material to fix this much damage. The wool in the sweater is different, but not that different." She looked up. "Now, you don't actually have a healing skill in the traditional sense, correct?"

"Yeah. I can only enhance medicinals."

"Well, that suggests two things. Either 'medicinal' has a very wide range of options, including your blood, or you have some regeneration ability that you could unlock at some point." My heart skipped a beat. "Don't get your hopes up. It's no guarantee." She rapped a rheumatic knuckle on the sleeve of my white coat. "Based on my assessment of your Potentials, your Projection would always limit your range."

Assessment of your Potentials…

My head snapped up, eyes wide. The smile on her lips fit a Cheshire Cat better than the old woman in front of me. "Like I said, young man, I have been keeping secrets since I was half your age."

She has me. "Well, I appreciate your discretion."

"I'm sure you do. Now, you were probably wondering why your undergarment resisted getting consumed?" I nodded. "Simple. Nothing wants to be consumed, and the enchantments strengthened the material's Spark, letting it better resist your scrubs' actions."

"But I don't have a skill that lets me consume things."

She frowned. "Don't you call yourself a [Healer]? The body doesn't heal from nothing. You must eat, drink." She gestured to the clothes. "That's all these are doing."

My eyes shifted between her and the clothes. Then, I just shrugged. "Sure. If you say so."

"Come now. I say that, and all I get is acceptance? Where is the inquiry? The thirst for knowledge?"

My shoulders slumped. I tried, but I couldn't call it up. "I have limits, ones I've crossed long ago. Everything is just so far beyond my expectations."

"Hmph, not surprising from where you hail from. Null zones stunt Marks and markings. But limited Aether means no monsters. Dull but safe."

She was fishing, and I gave her the tidbit she wanted. "After what I've seen, I think that trade-off is worth it."

She shook her head. "You say that now, but you haven't tasted true power. Tell me that again after you've walked further down your path." I didn't have a response to that, and she was fine with it. "Now shoo. I will get your gear patched up, but it will take time. I have things to do, and you have another task to deal with."

My brows furrowed. Then I noticed the direction of her gaze.

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