Chapter 25: A Call For Help

Molly’s legs were already moving before her thoughts could catch up, her feet pounding against the floor in a frantic burst of speed. She dropped to her knees the instant she reached Jasmine, the impact jarring through her bones, though she barely registered the pain. Her gaze swept over Jasmine’s prone form, the woman looked as though she had been mauled by some savage creature. Faint, silvery scars traced along her forearms and collarbone, while the fabric of her clothes hung in shredded ribbons, fresh blood still seeping in slow, glistening rivulets from the open wounds.

A violent shudder wracked Molly’s frame. Her mind spiraled, a churning storm of disbelief and dread, but she seized upon the first coherent instinct that surfaced. With a sharp, sweeping motion of her hand, the rough white symbols shuddered in the air around her, responding to her voiceless command. They swirled about her slender fingers, trembling and quivering before they began to coalesce, arranging themselves into deliberate shapes, forming the shape of the formula [Advanced Heal].

The structure wove itself into a cradle, embracing the intricate lattice of roots at its core. Then, as though conjured from a mirage, the completed emblem flooded with a deep, vivid green that pulsed with gentle luminescence.

The formula hovered just above Jasmine’s still figure, suspended in the air.

Molly watched intently as the emerald glow began to deepen, its radiance swelling until faint motes of light drifted free from the symbol. They descended like weightless seeds, alighting softly upon Jasmine’s battered frame and dissolving on contact, seeping into the torn flesh with a whisper of warmth.

A stir of movement caught Molly’s ear. Ren was waking. Her gaze flicked toward him as he lifted his head from the table, his eyes still glazed with the remnants of slumber. He stretched and gave a short yawn, but the gesture caught halfway, a frown creased his brow, then faltered, then widened into something far more terrible. “Mom…!” he breathed, scrubbing at his eyes as though he could banish what he saw, but the image refused to dissolve. “Mom!” The scream tore from his throat. He lurched from the dining chair, staggering forward before he crashed to his knees beside Jasmine’s motionless body.

“Mom!” he cried out again, his voice splintering as his gaze darted across her wounds, his mind visibly grappling with a reality that refused to make sense. His eyes snapped toward Molly, who wore an expression that almost mirrored his own, though she fought to keep her composure from splintering entirely.

When she saw the tears begin to streak down Ren’s cheeks, Molly reached out on pure instinct and pressed her left hand against his shoulder, her fingers squeezing just firmly enough to anchor him. She drew his focus to her face, and a small, reassuring curl lifted the corner of her lips.

~ It’ll be alright.

Ren stared at her, his eyes still quivering with the chaos of everything crashing down around him, yet his frantic mind began to quiet as he absorbed the steady calm she offered. There was something in her expression, strange and inexplicable, that planted a fragile seed of hope inside him, a whispered promise that things would, against all odds, truly be alright.

A deep, shuddering sigh escaped him. He nodded, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand as he turned to silently watch the vivid green motes continue their tender work, mending his mother’s wounds thread by thread.

After several more minutes, the formula dissolved into a last shimmer of light and vanished. Quiet settled over the room once again.

Molly and Ren kept their vigil as Jasmine’s breathing steadied into a calmer rhythm, though her eyes remained closed. Molly exhaled in quiet relief when she confirmed that no visible wounds lingered on Jasmine’s body anymore.

“What’s this?” Ren’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. Her gaze followed his as he retrieved a bloodstained envelope from where it had been partially tucked against his mother’s side, something clearly important held within its folds.

He squinted at the words he could manage to make out through the smears of crimson, then read them aloud. “To Molly Valtoria.”

Molly’s eyes flew wide. Her gaze darted to Ren, who was already looking at her. “It’s for you,” he said, extending his hand to offer it.

Molly’s eyes trembled as it fixed upon his outstretched fingers. Jasmine had been hurt because of her, because of something that had been meant for her.

Why.

Her hand quivered as she tried to lift it, her muscles rebelling against the act of accepting the envelope. Her thoughts could not find a single reason to justify reaching for it.

“It’s alright, Molly. It isn’t your fault.” Ren’s voice cut through the spiral, gentle but certain. Molly lifted her head and met his gaze. He smiled at her then, soft and knowing, and parted his lips to continue. “Those are the words Mom would have said,” he told her, his hand still extended, patient and unwavering.

Molly regarded him for a long, still moment, her face betraying no trace of emotion as she searched his expression. Slowly, her gaze dropped to the bloodied envelope in his grasp. A ghost of a smile flickered across her features, she knew, without a single doubt, that Jasmine would have spoken exactly those words.

She accepted the envelope from Ren and carefully worked it open, turning it upside down so that its contents slipped free. Two objects tumbled onto the floor. The first thing her eyes caught was a circular item shaped like a medal, its body gleaming in lustrous gold—pure, refined gold. A symbol that carried the weight of prestige was etched into its face. Molly picked up the medal-like object, feeling its heft settle into her palm, its worth tangible in the cool weight. She studied the icon on the front for a long breath before flipping it over to the reverse side, where a name had been engraved in bold, decisive strokes. ‘Molly Valto.’

A slight crease formed between her brows for a fleeting moment; then her eyes widened as memory struck her. Jen had carried a medal almost exactly like this one. She knew precisely what it was.

“Prestige Medal,” she heard Ren say beside her. Molly glanced at him, a surprised smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she nodded.

~ The medal only used by people who wish for their potential to be kept a secret.

Ren nodded after reading the words. “Yes, it is,” he confirmed. “Only people of insanely high status have access to it.” His gaze returned to the medal once more. “And it seems like this one was created specially for you.”

Molly offered a brief nod.

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~ Yes.

She projected the word, her focus falling back to the golden disc resting in her hand. Her fingertips brushed across its surface for a lingering moment, and a small, secretive smile played at the edges of her lips.

~ It’s because I have a lot of secrets.

Ren gazed at her for a long, thoughtful stretch. Then, a slight curve lifted his lips in return. “Just be careful,” he said, prompting a quiet nod from Molly.

After that, she shifted her attention to the letter that had fallen onto the floor. She picked it up, unfolded it, and began to read the words penned inside.

✦ TO MOLLY VALTORIA ✦
──────────────────────

Greetings Miss Valtoria,

Before all else, I must offer you my deepest, most heartfelt condolences for the loss you have endured. Words, I know, are frail vessels for sorrow; mere ink cannot carry the full weight of genuine sympathy, yet I hope these lines find you wrapped in a moment of stillness. The road before you is steep, and it grieves me that you must walk it; for every ounce of pain it has brought, I am truly, humbly sorry.

This letter is meant to serve as a brief introduction to what I have placed inside the envelope. But before I speak of that, allow me to touch upon something more personal.