There was a soft intake of breath, gradually released with eyes fluttering close. Soft blue light emanated from her palms, a cooling sensation that resembled the touch of a sea breeze under the warm sunlight. Olivia's voice was a constant guide, whispering and talking softly against her ear in a comforting, motherly tone.

"That's right, Genevieve." Said the healer. "That's right. Continue. You're doing great."

Within a few seconds simultaneous with her breathing, the blue light dissipated. Genevieve opened her hazelnut colored eyes and gazed down at her brother's still form, mildly disappointed to see him still fast asleep.

"No." Her shoulders sunk and her back slouched as she gripped Zevlin's hands tighter. "It's not working. He isn't waking up."

"Patience, dear one. You are greatly helping him." Olivia told her. "His breathing has improved and his heart rate is steadier. He's more stable. Because of you."

"But he isn't opening his eyes! I'm starting to think all this training has gone to waste!" Genevieve exclaimed, rising from her seat and pacing about the room in distress and frustration. "Oh, lords . . . by the gods."

"Calm down, Genevieve. Sit back down." She said. "Listen to me when I say he's better."

"It doesn't look that way!"

"He is! Subtle improvement is improvement still. You guide him away from death's door." Olivia reached out and held Genevieve's shoulder, guiding her to sit down on the chair she rose from. With her was a cup of tea.

The scent curled under Genevieve's nose and soothed her frayed nerves. As hours ticked by, her worries worsened. Waiting was a torturous activity that sometimes she became paranoid of all the possibilities.

"Mint and berries." The healer told her, somewhat worried seeing the huge bags under her eyes. "This will help you calm down. Tell me, have you been getting enough sleep?"

"I couldn't . . . I . . ."

"It's alright. Let me tell you something about your mother, Genea." She pulled a chair closer to the girl's. "There are a lot of things you have in common with your mother. Your nose, your lips . . . and that blue light."

Genevieve drank from the cup and sighed as it washed down her throat. "I always thought that it was strange that I had blue when all healers have green."

"Oh, well," Olivia shrugged, sipping her own cup of tea. "That's your mother's trademark. I've always thought that it was amazing to see her light. There was always something . . . heavenly about it."

Genevieve looked up and gave the woman a questioning stare. "What do you mean?"

"Your mother served as an apprentice in the Great Hall of Healers under Lady Saiorsia Delvern. By the time I was but a lowly herb gatherer, she was the top contender of her batch—the most promising healer of the decade, perhaps. And believe me when I say that that is no exaggeration."

"Mother was associated with the Great Hall?" She asked. "I never knew that."

"Most of the greatest healers do. And your mother was one of the greatest, alright."

"You speak so highly of her." She said, though she wasn't complaining. There weren't many people who knew her mother. If there were, she mostly did not like being near them.

"She had a lot to prove even so. She was no prodigy." Olivia said, offering her a plate of biscuits. They looked too good to resist, so Genevieve found herself picking off two. "Her healing was strange, to say the least. Her greatness did not come with healing big wounds like the commonplace healers. It was long before they discovered her area of expertise greatly differed."

"I remember her being a bit weird sometimes, especially when she's not being a mother." Genevieve muttered, a smile curling on her lips.

Olivia's laugh tickled her ears. "Oh, dear. Her power cured what normal healing could not. It was tough for people who did not possess it to comprehend. Here."

The healer held up an old book with a red ribbon wound around it. It was about the size of her palm with decaying pages. Seeing it made Genevieve set down her cup of tea, having already drank it to the bottom. She took it in her hand and eyed it with disbelief.

"Why do you have this?"

"I have trouble understanding that myself. Listen to me, anyhow, that book you have in your hands is very sought after. I don't know why, and I'm guessing that's why she gave it to me. Perhaps that thing will be more useful with you having it."

Genevieve flipped the thing open, skipping page after page. "This is mother's journal." She muttered. "This . . . is how she does things. Oh my gods, Olivia! Thank you very much! I'll read this right away!" She exclaimed, standing and throwing herself on a more comfortable chair at the corner of the room.

Olivia watched the younger of the twins with a smile. Genevieve began to be so immersed that Olivia moved to the farthest corner of the room to busy herself with her work. Lecturing Genevieve ate a lot of her time, but she wasn't complaining. She wanted this.

"Olivia." Genevieve sat up.

"Yes?"

"How close were you to my mother?" She asked. "And how come she gave you this?"

The healer faced her fully with a smile. "Fairly close, and I don't know. She just did."

Genevieve nodded, doubtful and uncertain. She trusted Olivia, anyhow.

There were knocks before somebody came through the doors. Headmaster Kylon stood in the doorway, looking back and forth between Genevieve and Zevlin. The younger of the twins stood to greet the headmaster and he returned this with a nod.

"Olivia." Said the headmaster.

"Good afternoon, Kylon." Olivia said, reclined in her seat with no intention of standing. "What brings you to my domain?" She asked.

"Raziel needs your special attention." The headmaster started. "His wound is severe."

This lifted her from her seat automatically. "Well, I'm wondering why you had to come yourself."

"I had hoped I would drop by since I had something to talk to someone about." He said, before turning to the ninth-ranker and approaching her. "Good day to you, Genevieve. How is your brother?"

"He's . . . alright."

Headmaster Kylon gave the boy a brief glance.

Olivia stopped before the door after fetching her things, giving Genevieve a nod. "I shall return immediately, Genevieve. Watch over your brother well."

"Yes." Genevieve nodded.

Headmaster Kylon and the girl waited, watching Olivia leave and close the door behind her before turning their attention back to one another. Kylon's albino qualities were a stark contrast to the wooden walls of the healing quarters, making him stand out. It almost hurt Genevieve's eyes looking at him.

She pocketed her mother's journal.

"I said I was going to come by . . . although things had been quite hectic with the festival currently ongoing." He rested his hands behind his back as he walked, stopping beside Zevlin. "He looks better than he did after that fight."

"I don't see any progress."

"Perhaps because you're beside him all the time." He told her. "You need not hole yourself in here. Take a walk outside and take a breath of fresh air. The season is changing. The weather is turning cold. Seeing it through these small windows will be an absolute loss."

"Without Zevlin, I think it'll be futile. I can't admire things with him lying here."

Kylon sighed. "Listen. His passing out after that episode is . . . the first step."

"The first step?" Her brows furrowed.

"The first step to a reckoning." Another voice interjected as the doors opened and a golden-eyed man stepped into the room.

"Lord Lienhard." Genevieve whispered, watching the man as he made his way inside and sank into the couches she occupied before. "What is this?"

"Zevlin developed a trauma after the incident in your childhood. I think I've already said this before, but the channeling of your father's overwhelming power was too much for his body. Hence, his hesitance to use it well."

"Yes. You've told that to me already in the arena. Please tell me what I don't know."

"He is literally on the way to meet his maker."

"What?"

"And I don't mean he's dying." The king's brother shrugged. "But it's something along those lines."

Genevieve started hyperventilating.

"No. Lord Lienhard! Watch your words. They aren't helping at all!" Kylon exclaimed.

Lienhard started laughing. "Ah, you worry too much. Remove those wrinkles on your forehead and calm down for a moment. I'm quite sure your brother will not really die, you see, but after this happens, he might as well be as good as dead."

"Lord Lienhard!" Kylon found himself exclaiming.

"Please just tell me directly!" Genevieve simultaneously yelped with the headmaster.

"Like I said, he is undergoing a reckoning set forth by Arland himself, the giver of fire. At some point in your life, you find the best use for your element. Zevlin, on the other hand, has not put it to good use. That is why . . . he is being put through a series of tests that will determine whether or not he deserves to remain with his element. Otherwise, a man without his fire is as good as a man without his life—an empty shell of who he used to be."

"But he doesn't deserve this!" Genevieve exclaimed. "He is a victim too! He didn't want any of these."

"If he doesn't go through it now, he will never be complete. In this stage, it is either he gains or loses everything."

Genevieve sank into the chair, wracked with anxiety and fear for her only family. "Is there any way to help him?"

"Your mother's healing. You've inherited it, have you not? It allows her to tap into the places no normal healing can't."

"How do you know about my mother?"

"Who doesn't know Genea Sabian?" Lienhard stood. "Spiritual healing is not an unexplored topic, but those who can perform it are the rarity. Your mother is that rarity—a healing that is a perfect blend of the elements spirit and healing."

"But—isn't it that you can only inherit one specific element from one parent no matter if both wielded two different elements?"

"Yes, but that is not the case with Genea. That ability was given willingly to your ancestor by the gods during the Great War."

Kylon kept his silence in the background, seeming to have known everything all along.

"The Great War? Thousands of years into the past?" Genevieve exclaimed. "Who is our ancestor, then?"

"Louanne Lou." Lienhard said.

"Who?"

"A member of the first Celestial Knights."

Genevieve's reaction could not be painted. The shock she had on her face was unspeakable that Lienhard started laughing once more.

"Oh dear. This scenario will never get old." He chuckled, tossing his ankle and propping it over his knee. "You cannot bring yourself to believe that your ancestor was such a famous historical figure?"

"No . . ." She shook her head. "But if it really was the case . . ."

"I recommend you start harnessing your power, Genevieve. Ignoring it to be with your brother gains you nothing."

"Yes. I—I know that now."

Lienhard approached the girl. "I hope you now know as well that your ability does not focus on the physical wounds. It is time you start seeing what you should be seeing. The aura, the spirit, the core, and not the shell. It is not only the physical body that gets wounded."

"Yes, I've been trying . . . I've been trying."

"You're not trying hard enough."

Genevieve lashed at this. "Please—allow me to think for a minute!" The look on her face"I suppose I've been too focused on trying to find what's wrong with my brother's physical condition that I've ignored what part of him could've been really damaged." She sank on the chair she usually occupied and reached for her brother's hand. "Olivia keeps telling me not to focus on that, but . . . I could not help it."

Headmaster Kylon silently shook his head.

Her heart ached and her throat felt tight. "I will give this one more try—no, I'll keep trying. If I cannot help my brother in anyway, then I am a failure as his twin."

"Now, that is the spirit." He grinned. "I know a lot about spirits and such since I am a Direct Controller. My guess is that in order for you to be able to access and see what you need to heal, you'll need to tap into the Open Channels."

"The Open Channels of the aura?"

"That's right. Start at the very top then work your way down."

"How do I do that?"

"Learning how to is up to you." He said as he walked to the door. "Just remember, the crown, the eye, the heart, and the palms of each hand."

The headmaster gave out a huge sigh after Lienhard disappeared from their sight and gave Genevieve a sympathetic look. The ninth-ranker looked more than ready to withdraw, her shoulders tense as though carrying an invisible weight.

"Don't let that man pressure you too much. He can be too pushy at times." Kylon told Genevieve in a calm voice. "Take everything and go according to the pace you like."

"Yes. I know." She then looked at her brother. "Hold on a little longer, Zev. I know I can do this."