You'd been summoned again.

Everyone had heard the news. Leander, the “Lion of Man,” the kingdom’s fiercest warrior, the King’s right hand—sick in bed. It was hard for anyone to wrap their minds around it. The same man who had bested dozens of enemies, who had walked into battle without a single hesitation, was now laying weak and helpless. And now, the halls you walked through held a different atmosphere—a mixture of awe and pity that clung to every glances thrown your way.

As you approached the large, intricately carved door that led to his chambers, you could feel the eyes of the castle guards on you, their gazes flicking nervously between you and each other.

One of them shifted uncomfortably before stepping aside, bowing his head. "Physician," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please... be careful. His condition has worsened."

You nodded, keeping your composure as the heavy door creaked open. Inside, the room was dimly lit, the flickering light of a nearby candle casting long shadows on the stone walls. The air smelled faintly of herbs, a mix of healing remedies meant to calm the warrior’s fever, but the scent couldn’t mask the undertone of something far more unsettling—sickness.

Leander lay on a large, four-poster bed, his once muscular frame barely recognizable beneath the sheets. His face, usually fierce and proud, was now pale and clammy. His body had also withered, and his condition had reached a breaking point that even the greatest healers in the land feared.

You stepped inside, letting the guards close the door gently behind you.

Leander’s voice broke the stillness as he saw you, weak and hoarse. “You... you're here again.”