Neela could be seen in the kitchen of their modest home. Through the window, she looked outside and saw Sky running toward Adam without Niel.
As she watched Sky speak with Adam, Neela fell into thought. Sky was their youngest daughter and the one who had sworn never to fall in love. Yet, as both a mother and a woman, Neela could not help but be skeptical.
After all, her daughter was a woman, and women were bound to eventually fall in love.
Neela's train of thought was shattered by a heavy thud from outside the house.
Startled, she frowned and made her way to the front door. The sound had been loud enough to shake the quiet atmosphere of the morning.
She pulled the door open.
For a brief moment, she simply stared.
Niel lay sprawled across the ground before her, his body covered in dirt, bruises, and scrapes. His clothes were torn in several places, and he looked as though he had been dragged through a battlefield.
Shock flashed across Neela's face.
"What in the world happened to you?"
Niel looked up at her and tried to speak, but before he could utter a word, a violent cough escaped his lips.
Seeing his condition, Neela immediately rushed to his side and helped him to his feet.
As she looked over the bruises and scrapes covering his body, disbelief filled her eyes.
"Just how beautiful must this princess be," she asked, "for you to go through all of this?"
Niel did not answer immediately. In fact, he did not answer at all.
Instead, he reached out and grabbed Neela's arm.
"Please... hold me up," he said weakly. "I don't think I can stay standing."
Neela placed a hand on Niel's back while he gripped her arm for support. As she watched him, her concern gradually turned to confusion.
Niel's gaze was unfocused. Instead of answering or explaining himself, he slowly closed his eyes and began regulating his breathing.
A slow inhale.
A brief hold.
A controlled exhale.
Another hold.
The pattern repeated itself several times, each breath measured and deliberate. Neela had no idea what he was doing, but the trembling in his body gradually began to subside.
Shock was evident on Neela's face.
Just moments ago, Niel had been barely able to stand. His body had trembled with exhaustion, and his breathing had been ragged and uneven. Yet after doing nothing more than controlling his breaths, he looked noticeably better.
To Niel, it was merely a simple breathing technique.
To Neela, it was nothing short of a miracle.
In all her years, she had never witnessed someone heal themselves through breathing alone.
Niel slowly opened his eyes.
"Lady Neela," he said weakly, lifting his head. "I have a request."
His silver eyes met her brown ones. Though exhausted, there was a calm determination in his gaze, accompanied by a hint of pleading.
Neela blinked.
"A request?" she repeated, still struggling to process what she had just witnessed.
Her brows furrowed in confusion.
"What kind of request could you possibly have of me?"
"Please," Niel said, his voice still weak, "let me teach you something."
Neela stared at him in bewilderment.
"Teach me something?" she repeated.
Of all the things she had expected him to say, that had not been one of them.
"What on earth could you possibly teach me, young Niel?" she asked.
"Medicine," he replied softly.
Releasing her arm, Niel slowly straightened himself. Though bruised and battered, there was an unexpected confidence in his posture.
"Let me teach you the art of medicine."