After leaving the guild outpost, Yoshiya and Omina strolled through Orleaf's quiet lanes. The air smelled of fresh soil and smoke from hearth fires. Along the way they ran into Mako, who immediately noticed the shallow cuts and scratches on Yoshiya's arms.
"You've been in a fight," Mako said, concern flickering in his eyes. "Tell me, young man—do you know how to use mana?"
Yoshiya hesitated. "No… not yet."
"Then come with me. It's time you learned."
At Mako's home, the headman guided Yoshiya to sit on a woven mat. A faint aroma of crushed herbs filled the air.
"To call upon mana, you must first quiet yourself," Mako explained. "Concentrate. Imagine the flow inside you. Don't just think—feel it."
While Yoshiya closed his eyes and tried to focus, Mako brewed a small mixture of herbs over the fire. He handed the steaming cup to Yoshiya. "Drink. It will help you sense the mana coursing through your body."
The bitter taste burned slightly down his throat, but warmth quickly spread through his chest and arms.
"Now," Mako instructed, "speak these words: Gentle magic, healing wind, hear my song… Heal!"
Yoshiya repeated the incantation, his voice shaky at first. Suddenly, a faint light shimmered over his skin. Warmth surged, and before his eyes, the shallow cuts on his forearms began to fade.
He gasped. "It worked…"
Mako smiled broadly. "Excellent. You learn quickly. That is a simple healing spell—enough to mend wounds, your own or others'. Use it well."
Nearby, Omina clenched her wand and tried the same incantation, but no glow came. She tried again, frustration growing, until Mako gently shook his head.
"Your mana is too faint for healing, child. Perhaps another path is meant for you."
Omina's lips pressed into a thin line. She quietly set her wand aside and slipped out into the herb garden, muttering under her breath.
When the lesson ended, both Yoshiya and Omina thanked Mako before leaving. But Yoshiya had another matter in mind. "Torven mentioned a blacksmith nearby. If we're going to keep fighting, we need proper gear."
They soon found the workshop—a low wooden building that smelled of smoke and iron. Inside, armor and weapons hung from the walls, while the clanging of a hammer echoed against the forge. Behind it stood Brenn, a broad-shouldered man with scarred arms and soot-darkened hair.
"Brenn?" Yoshiya called. "Torven sent us. He said you're the best smith in Orleaf."
Brenn eyed their equipment and frowned. Yoshiya wore the heavy set of warrior's armor, while Omina was clad in a lighter set designed for healers.
"What's the problem?" Brenn asked.
Yoshiya stepped forward, placing four silver coins on the counter. "I want to swap our armor. Mine for a healer's set, and hers for something sturdier—a warrior's armor like mine. Do you have replacements?"
Brenn crossed his arms. "You're asking for something tricky. Armor isn't easy to just swap around. The fit, the balance—what suits a man won't suit a woman without changes. And I don't keep spare sets lying around."
Yoshiya's expression stiffened, but Brenn continued. "Still… I can make adjustments. I'll reshape your warrior's armor to fit the girl, and I'll refit the healer's armor for your build. It'll take some cutting, reforging, and trimming of leather, but it can be done."
Omina blinked in surprise. "You mean… I'll actually wear a warrior's armor?"
Brenn smirked. "If that's what you want. But be warned—it'll be heavier than anything you've carried before."
"How much?" Yoshiya asked.
"Just one silver coin for the labor."
Yoshiya didn't hesitate. He slid a coin across the counter. "Do it."
"Come back tomorrow afternoon," Brenn said, already taking measurements and noting the adjustments. "I'll have them ready. But remember—armor won't win battles alone. It's your trust in each other that will keep you alive."
Yoshiya nodded firmly, and Omina, though still quiet, touched the hilt of her sword with new resolve. For the first time, their roles were no longer just an idea—they were beginning to take shape.