Cassian's eyes fluttered open slowly, a faint warmth brushing across his face from the morning light seeping through the curtains.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—wooden, plain, but safe.
He sat up slowly, the blanket falling from his chest. The dull ache across his body reminded him of what had happened.
Then it hit him.
The blood... the screams...
His fingers curled into the sheets as the memory played vividly in his mind. The adventurers, their broken bodies. His desperate heals. The moment he collapsed. And most of all—
The one he couldn't save.
Cassian's chest tightened. He covered his face with his hand, exhaling shakily.
In his past life, death was just a statistic. A news report. A faraway concept. He had never truly felt the loss of someone right in front of him.
But now…
He died in front of me.
And even after all his effort—even after using everything he had—it wasn't enough.
He'd believed, hadn't he? Tried to awaken that strange power again. Tried to save one more life.
But nothing came.
His belief, his desperation, his will… none of it worked.
Was I wrong to think belief alone was enough?
He sat at the edge of his bed for hours, unable to shake the heavy gloom that hung over him. His usual calmness had been replaced by an unfamiliar feeling—a crushing sadness he didn't know how to carry.
When he finally made his way downstairs, Mira spotted him instantly.
The always-cheerful boy who greeted everyone with a soft smile now wore a dull, defeated expression.
Mira's warm hand rested on his shoulder.
"You did everything you could, Cassian. Don't carry this alone."
"I… I failed," he whispered. "He died. Right in front of me."
"But you saved three others, didn't you?" she said gently.
The other inn workers—those who he'd quietly helped with lifting crates, repairing shelves, or even just listening—stepped forward with smiles and words of encouragement.
"You've only just started using healing magic, haven't you?"
"You're too kind to blame yourself."
"You'll grow with time, and one day, you'll save everyone."
Their words wrapped around him like a blanket. Soft. Reassuring.
That evening, Mira and the inn cooks prepared a special dinner—nothing grand, just hearty and warm. A meal filled with care.
Cassian tried to smile, and though it was small, it was real.
Night came.
The guild hall was quiet when the door opened again.
Marc and Milan entered, followed closely by the three adventurers he had saved. The two girls and the boy—all cleaned up and wearing humble clothes—stood behind the older men with solemn faces.
"You're awake," Marc said with a relieved nod.
"You look like hell," Milan added, then smirked. "But better than before."
Cassian lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry… I couldn't save all of them."
"Oi," Marc said, crossing his arms. "Don't talk like that. If not for you, all four would've died."
"You saved three people, kid," Milan said firmly. "You should be proud, not ashamed."
The three adventurers stepped forward. They bowed deeply.
"Thank you," said the boy. "We were too stubborn. I said some awful things…"
One of the girls wiped her eyes. "You gave us a second chance. We owe you our lives."
"You're our savior," the other whispered.
Cassian felt something warm settle in his chest. The gratitude in their voices was real. It didn't erase the one he lost—but it helped him carry it.
He nodded slowly. "Thank you… for coming."
That night, they all shared dinner together at the guild—Marc and Milan keeping the mood light with their usual bickering, the three adventurers shyly laughing along, and Cassian, slowly but surely, regaining his strength.
As the plates were cleared and the warmth of food and laughter settled in, Cassian turned to Marc and Milan.
"I want to get stronger," he said. "I want to be able to save more people."
They both exchanged a look, then grinned.
"Well then," Marc said. "Join the Adventurer's Guild officially. You can train under an instructor—get combat experience, learn control, push your limits."
"You've got the heart," Milan added. "The strength will follow."
Cassian smiled, this time with a flicker of determination in his eyes.
"Then I'll go tomorrow morning."
And with that quiet resolve, a new chapter of his journey began.
—To be continued..