Jett barely noticed her approach after the first glance earlier. Her entire focus had been on Ron, the pain in her gray eyes raw and unguarded. She hadn’t moved from her spot beside him, hands trembling slightly as they hovered over his wound, powerless to do anything...

  Emma exhaled softly, breaking the silence. "Sorry if this sounds strange," she said, her voice steady despite the cold, "but I’d like to help him."

  Jett’s head snapped up.

  For a moment, she simply stared. She should have been suspicious. She should have questioned this girl, this stranger who had appeared from nowhere and was now offering help. But as Emma spoke, something strange washed over her.

  A quiet calmness.

  A warmth that pressed against the overwhelming tide of helplessness she had been drowning in.

  She didn’t understand it.

  But she decided to trust it.

  Slowly, Jett pushed herself to her feet, her legs stiff and aching from kneeling for so long. She stepped aside, nodding.

  "Please," she murmured. "Do whatever you can."

  Emma didn’t waste time.

  She knelt beside Ron, the cold seeping into her knees as the snow crunched beneath her small frame. His breathing was labored, each inhale shallow, rattling. The thick dark blue ichor had already soaked into the ground beneath him, staining the pristine snow into something dark and sickly.

  Emma's gaze lingered on his face for a moment before she moved, placing her right hand gently against his forehead. Her left hand hovered just above the gaping wound on his midsection, fingers steady and calm despite the tension around..

  Then, something flickered in her mind.

  A thought. A realization.

  He doesn’t have a Ki Core.

  The moment the thought surfaced, her brows furrowed slightly. It was strange, unexpected.

  Does that mean each fruit has a different way.. a different system of using magic?

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  The question itched at her, lingering at the edges of her curiosity. But she forced herself to push it aside.

  Not now, Emma. Help first, curiosity later.

  She exhaled softly, centering herself, and slowly, a gentle pulse stirred in her fingertips.

  ***

  A soft, rhythmic glow flickered between Emma's fingers. It was faint at first, no more than a glimmer, pulsing gently like a distant infinite white lights dancing like a calming embrace. But within moments, the light steadied, growing richer, deeper... an emerald green, vibrant and alive. It pulsed in slow, intentional waves, rising and falling like the rhythmic pull of the ocean tide.

  The glow spread outward, stretching from her fingertips, reaching toward Ron’s torn midsection. The moment it made contact with his skin, the magic seeped inside, flowing through him like water searching for the cracks in a stone. It followed unseen pathways, weaving into his body, wrapping around his wound like unseen hands mending broken fabric. The torn flesh knit itself together, the deep gash vanishing as though it had never been there. His breathing, once ragged and weak, grew steady. The dark blue ichor that had spilled onto the snow stopped entirely, the last remnants fading into nothingness.

  Jett’s breath hitched.

  Her eyes widened, locked onto the scene before her.

  She had been prepared for the worst, for the slow, helpless wait as her little brother's life faded away before her very eyes. But now... now she was watching something impossible unfold, something she never thought she would witness.

  She felt a surge of emotions.. relief, disbelief, awe, all tangling together, but she kept her expression even, simply watching in silence.

  Behind her, Liz and Dan stood frozen, eyes reflecting the same shock.

  Dan was the first to break the silence. His voice, usually steady, wavered slightly as he spoke.

  “She’s a Mage?”

  He didn’t mean to say it aloud, but the words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. His deep blue eyes, sharp and observant, flicked toward Emma with newfound scrutiny.

  Liz, standing beside him, shot him a quick glare. “Shh. Don’t disturb her with your big mouth.”

  Dan frowned but said nothing more, crossing his arms as he watched.

  The green glow slowly faded, sinking completely into Ron’s body. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft inhale, Ron stirred. His small hands pressed against the snow, his muscles tensed as he sat up, his pale gray eyes blinking in surprise.

  He was alive.

  Emma, satisfied, slowly rose to her feet. She took a step back, then another, as if instinctively giving him space.

  Ron lifted his gaze to her, mouth slightly open, the words forming on his lips, but before he could speak, a pair of arms wrapped around him.

  Jett had lunged forward, pulling him into a tight embrace.

  She didn’t care that the snow beneath them was cold. She didn’t care that her hands were still trembling, or that her knees nearly buckled under her. None of it mattered. All that mattered was that he was breathing. That he was alive.

  Her grip around him tightened, as if afraid that if she let go, he would vanish.

  Ron, still dazed, hesitated before slowly lifting his arms and hugging her back.

  Jett turned her head slightly to Emma, her voice softer now. “Thank you,” she murmured, her words carrying the weight of everything she couldn’t express. She pulled away just enough to face Emma fully, bowing her head slightly. “Thank you very much.”

  Emma tensed, caught off guard by the formal gratitude. She shifted slightly, the tips of her fingers fidgeting against the hem of her dark ash skirt.

  “N-No, no, no need to thank me,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s my pleasure.”

  Jett, however, simply smiled. “Still, thank you.”

  Ron, still holding onto his sister, loosened his grip as he turned his gaze toward Emma. His voice was quieter, softer than hers. “Yeah… thank you.”

  Emma’s face warmed.

  She wasn’t used to this. The direct gratitude, the genuine appreciation.. it made something coil uncomfortably inside her, like she didn’t know how to respond.

  To keep herself from growing too flustered, she quickly turned her head away, looking elsewhere, pretending to focus on something in the distance.

  She could still feel their gratitude lingering in the air.

  And for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t sure how to react to it.

  The moment lingered, but eventually, the conversation shifted.

  Emma turned slightly, her unique white eyes flicking toward Liz and Dan, a thought pressing at the edge of her mind.

  There was something she needed to ask.

  A strange, almost unnatural push urged her forward, like a whisper of the wind pestered her to ask..

  “…Have either of you seen a man wearing a dark blue trench coat?”

  Liz and Dan exchanged glances.

  Confusion flickered across their faces before, at the exact same time, they turned back to her and said..

  “You’re looking for him?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Yes… Have you seen him?”