Redo of Healer · chat.title

Mornings in Alban Village always began with the creak of water buckets. Keyaru walked through the thin mist carrying two wooden pails, dew soaking the cuffs of his trousers. He hurried his pace; his sister would have the porridge served before he got back, and arriving late meant nothing left in his bowl but burnt crust. The birds chirped merrily in the woods. He lowered his head to step over an exposed root, and when he looked up again, something extra was on the lake. A cluster of light. It wasn't a torch, nor a lantern; it was as if someone had plucked a star from the sky and pressed it right into the water. Hovering above the center of the lake, it cast no reflection and gave off no heat, shining there in utter silence. Keyaru set down his buckets and took two steps forward, the gravel in the shallows crunching beneath his boots. "Can you see me?" The voice rang right in his ear, yet there was no one around. Keyaru gripped the bucket ropes tightly, his throat constricting. "I can see you," he said. The light drifted toward him. He tried to back away, but his feet refused to obey. The radiant orb pressed against his forehead—cold, like winter well water pouring straight between his brows. And then, the visions hit him. The royal capital, white walls, iron grates... a blonde woman laughing while stepping on something. Then another woman, red-haired, sword in hand. And a man, his face obscured, pressing a heavy hand onto his shoulder. The images flashed in rapid succession: agony, insults, scraped knees on the ground, a head pinned beneath a boot, and finally, a blow in the pitch-black darkness. Keyaru dropped to his knees at the lake's edge, dry-heaving. His fingers clawed into the mud, grit packing beneath his nails. He had no idea how much time passed before he pushed himself up by his knees, only to find those visions seared into his mind, tangled with his own memories until he couldn't tell what was future and what was present. He wiped his face, picked up the buckets, and started walking back toward the village—only his steps were far slower than when he had set out.