Chapter 8- I can still fight!

"If you don't mind my speaking up, I think he might still be alive!" Dale looked up with such speed that his neck nearly snapped. He scrutinized the man who spoke those words. He was standing in front and looking down at them. He was nearly six feet tall, bald and white-bearded. He had a dignified expression and was dressed in white noble clothing. His white robe and beard fluttered in the wind slightly as he looked at the crying Dale and supposedly dead Wilson. When Dale said nothing and looked on in a daze, the old man continued speaking.

"I believe he's still breathing. So, if you let me help right now, he can still be saved. Come on, follow me."

Dale said nothing as his face turned serious and lifted Wilson up in his hands and followed the man. They stopped in front of the closest restaurant to their right before entering.

"We are going to use a table, if you don't mind!" The old man said to the inn owner that stood behind the counter.

"No problem!"

The old man gestured to a table signifying that Dale should drop Wilson on it. The table was closest to the window. The old man looked intently at his patient for a few seconds and looked at the people viewing through the glass windows from outside the inn. He flicked his robe sleeves and a small luxurious box seemed to appear out of nowhere. He immediately opened this box and took a pill from it. The pill shone with an attractive blue light that glimmered causing a series of gasps and mutterings.

"How beautiful!"

"What is that?"

"That must be a low-grade healing pill!" A man exclaimed. Everyone looked at him as they heard him say that. They all knew what healing pills were. A low-grade was of the lowest quality but was capable of healing every type of wound and mild diseases. Healing pills were classified based on their Qualities into three: Low-grade, Mid-grade and High-grade. These pills were very expensive and due to the nobles' greed, laws were made to forbid commoners from possessing any of those pills. Healers were allowed to but no healer was seen as a commoner. They at least, were seen as nobles due to their importance. The people had already suspected that the old man that offered his help must be a low-class noble and his possessing a pill had confirmed it.

He put the pill in the boy's mouth and hit his throat repeatedly but gently, making him swallow the pill. He then stretched his hands towards Wilson's abdomen and began chanting some words. A light blue colour slowly appeared in his hands and stretched towards his patient's abdomen before slowly encompassing him completely. The blue brilliance caused the onlookers to gasp again in amazement.

"Oh my!"

"Is that what healing magic looks like?"

"Amazing!"

"It's so beautiful!"

They talked all at once praising the beauty of healing magic.

"Eh, is it cleaning him up?"

"I did not know it could do that?"

"That's a cleansing spell! Healers use it a lot to clean up their patients so that they could take a better look at him without hindrance from impurities." The same man spoke up again. This time, some people began to wonder who this man was, for him to be this knowledgeable. Was he a healer as well? Maybe a practitioner or even a merchant! It was well known that merchants were very knowledgeable about a lot of things. The blue light died down slowly. Everyone gasped as they saw Wilson's body heal and cover up right before their eyes. All his deep cuts, wounds, torn skin and blood were soon gone and he looked like he was never beaten. People muttered among themselves again in astonishment and praise of the power of healers. Some girls could not help but gasp at his well-toned, muscular body that was exposed. The old man brought out a robe and covered him up.

"Take him to a place where he can sleep peacefully. His body is healed up but a low-grade pill cannot heal internal injuries, so, I would advise you to stop him from getting into any fights or doing strenuous works for about two weeks."

"Yes, I understand. Thank you very much. I don't know how to repay you." Dale said as he bowed.

"You don't have to repay anything. After all, he took a beating for defending my grandson!" The old man said as he walked out into the crowd and away from them. There was murmuring within the crowd again. Turns out the little boy that was nearly beaten was a noble's grandson.

Dale quickly carried the unconscious Wilson in his arms and ran all the way back to the inn where they had lodged. He placed him on his bed and ordered for some food to be given to him as soon as he woke up. After giving this instructions, he slowly left the inn and walked aimlessly on the streets, gathering his thoughts.

He had to travel the next day, but he was afraid to leave an unconscious and wounded young boy all alone by himself. He couldn't stay or else he would be losing a lot of money. He couldn't travel with Wilson either as it was too unsafe. As he wondered what to do, he ran into an old retired friend of his. His old friend, Maxi by name, asked him what the matter was. Dale explained his dilemma to him as well as, the scene that played out earlier that day.

"Don't worry, I will take care of him while you are gone!"

"Thank you very much!" Dale said with joy written all over his face.

"But, there's still a problem! How do you intend to tell a young boy who left his mother to come to the city that his dream of entering Forest City's Wrestling Academy has been swept under the rug?" Maxi asked as they walked back towards the inn Wilson was lodged in. Dale had an instant headache. As they neared the room, he thought about the possibility of Wilson not waking up till after the tournament.

"I guess I can only hope for him to be unconscious until it's too late!" Dale said with a shrug.

"Hahahahaha…..What a terrible thing to wish him! But what if he wakes up in time? What do you do if he wakes up before tomorrow evening?"

"Then I guess I will just have to shatter his heart by telling him the raw, bitter truth. Lies won't get anyone anywhere!" He said as he opened the door.

"I can still fight!" Wilson said as they entered. They were shocked to see Wilson awake and sitting upright at the edge of his bed. Dale knew the ugly task of explaining to him his current handicap was left to him.

"Wilson. I don't want you to see this in the wrong light, but you cannot go for the tournament! You are still too weak and your insides right now are in chaos! So please, reconsider and simply give up your dream of ever entering this academy or any other academy for that matter. On the bright side, I will gladly take you as my apprentice and teach you everything I know about being a mer...…"

"I can still fight!" Wilson said again, cutting Dale off.

"Look kid, you are still not getting it! If you fight, you will most probably d..."

"I can still fight!" Wilson said again, tears welling up in his eyes as he walked out of the room. He hated himself for defending that boy. He hated himself for not running away after speaking up and waiting instead. He hated himself for letting his pride control him. If he had not done anything and apologized, he wouldn't have been beaten to stupor. He hated himself for not being strong enough to fight the two guards. He hated himself for remembering his mother's words at that moment and not Dale's words. And finally, he hated his mother for teaching him about protecting one's pride. Where has that stupid pride gotten him now. He could not just give up. He refuses to give up.

"I can still fight!" He said as he cried on and on through the night on the ever-busy streets of Forest City.