Chapter 112: The Price
ADRIAN’S P.O.V.
Her movements were slow, deliberate, as if she carried the weight of something I couldn’t yet understand. Juliette’s grip on my hand tightened as the woman knelt beside my younger self and placed a weathered hand over my chest. Her eyes closed, and a faint whisper escaped her lips—words in a language I didn’t recognize but felt ancient, like the rustling of old pages in a forgotten library.
I watched, my breath hitching, as the incantations seemed to ripple through the air, a soft glow emanating from her hand. Suddenly, young Adrian gasped, his shallow, pained breaths giving way to deep, steady ones. I remembered the exact sensation: the absence of pain, the sudden lightness, and the bewildering realization that I could breathe again without agony.
She stood up, her gaze piercing as she looked down at me. "Tell your parents what has happened here today," she said, her voice steady but commanding. "Let them know this is a temporary fix. If they want a permanent solution, they must bring you to my home."
And just like that, she turned and walked away, her figure disappearing into the distance.
Juliette’s eyes were wide as she turned to me. "Did that actually happen? She just... healed you, just like that?"
I nodded, my voice soft but tinged with an old pain. "She did. And at the time, I thought it was nothing short of a miracle."
As the scene shifted, we found ourselves in the small living room of my family’s home. There I was, recounting the events to my parents with an enthusiasm I hadn’t felt in months. My mother gasped, her hands trembling as she clutched my shoulders, looking me over as if to confirm my words. My father stood with a frown, his brows furrowed in contemplation.
"She touched your chest and just... healed you?" Mother’s voice was incredulous, hope battling fear in her tone.