At that moment, the tavern door creaked open, and a man in his early thirties with a rugged, muscular build entered the room and scanned the anxious crowd with his gray eyes.
"The boy's going to live," The man announced, his voice cutting through the tension—steady, low, and certain. "Nothing to worry about."
A grizzled old man murmured, "Mr Drex D-Did the doctor come back?"
"No," Drex replied, "And I don't know when he will. But this will do." Saying this, He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a vial—a small glass bottle glowing with bright red liquid.
"This is a healing potion," said Drex, holding the vial up so everyone could see. "As long as he's breathing, it will bring him back. Completely."
Hearing this, a murmur began. One woman silently crossed her fingers. Another man dropped to his knees, whispering a prayer he hadn't believed in for years.
