Axel quickly uncorked the potion vial and brought it to Karel's lips. "Drink," he urged.
Karel groaned, his eyes fluttering open as the potion slid down his throat. The wound across his chest began to knit together but slowly. Too slowly.
Axel's brow furrowed. "This thing not healing fast enough… must be because of that cursed Mana. It's not just steel that hit him!"
Karel winced, trying to sit up, but Axel pressed a hand against his shoulder. "Don't move. You're not okay yet, but you'll live. Stay here. Drink your own potion maybe two or three, if you have."
Karel nodded weakly and fumbled with his belt pouch as Axel rose.
No more waiting and more watching for him.
He slung his bow back into position and drew one of his ignited arrows—a shaft conjured from flame-touched Mana. The fletching shimmered red-orange, its tip glowing with something like lava. Axel's eyes narrowed, and he pulled the string taut.
