Anna’s satisfaction from helping the tanner’s girl only lasted a moment longer than the rush of magic that the Mesh sent her way. It had rewarded her quite well for the healing — more than some of the work she’d done in dungeons. She knew why. Purging the rot had been difficult. Straightforward, but difficult. She would have liked nothing more than to trudge back into the Devil’s Den and flop down on her bed, sleeping until her energy returned. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be an option. Even after the tanner had led his girl away, relief stamped into his features, the rest of the crowd that had been waiting for healing from Arwin all turned their attention straight to her. They weren’t going to want to go anywhere easily. Not after that display. And as tired as Anna was, she couldn’t bring herself to wave them off. She still had some power left. Not enough to deal with a second wound as severe as the girl’s, but enough to deal with a few smaller problems. The next man in line swallowed nervously as he stepped up to Anna. She didn’t even need to ask him what was wrong. His arm was poorly bound with white cloth and he clutched it gingerly to his chest, doing his best not to let any part of it move. “You broke your arm,” Anna said. The woman stepped out of line, joined by several others that had gathered just to watch the show. Anna nearly made to leave and head back into the tavern when she realized that there was one person that had made his way up to the front. A boy so thin that she’d nearly missed him in the small crowd, with well-defined features and snow white hair, approached her with the help of a carved wooden crutch. This time around, Anna didn’t have to wonder why he was looking for Arwin’s services. The boy’s right leg was malformed. Even though a pant leg covered it, the wind passing through the street was enough to occasionally pull the cloth against the overly-thin limb beneath. “And what of me?” the boy asked, taking a step forward. His staff rang against the stone as he came to a stop before Anna. Something about his gaze gave her answer pause. It was sharp — almost honed. He shifted his weight to his good leg and tapped the lame one with his staff. “Can you fix this?” “I suspect I already know the answer to my question, but I’ll ask it anyway. Were you born like that?” The boy nodded. “Yes.” “Then there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry,” Anna said with a regretful shake of her head. “Healing magic can deal with injuries. I can try to remove malignant forces from your body, but that leg is part of you. Your body won’t register anything wrong with it. It’s the leg’s natural state, so healing magic will do nothing.” “I’ve heard as much many times before.” The boy didn’t seem perturbed. “But I did not come here to seek you, as talented of a healer as you seem to be. I came to ask for the smith. I’ve heard he’s capable of doing things that even healing magic can’t do.” “I gathered your purpose,” Anna said. This definitely wasn’t a job for her. But Arwin… there was a small possibility that he actually could do something about an issue . Arwin would probably be mad if Anna turned the boy away without even giving him a chance to lay out his request. “There is a chance he might actually be able to help you. But I’ll warn you upfront, even if he has time to see you, I don’t think it will be simple.” “Oh?” the boy asked, tilting his head to the side. “Why’s that?” “He can replace limbs,” Anna said. “Not repair them. Are you willing to lose your leg in exchange for getting a new one?” “What kind of question is that? Who would choose a useless leg over a fully functional replacement?” There was something in the boy’s voice that wasn’t just annoyance. His question wasn’t rhetorical. He actually wanted to see if Anna had an answer for him. That’s interesting. Not the response I thought I’d get for a warning like that. Is he trying to test me? Well, even if he is, it doesn’t change my answer. “I’m not trying to make your decision for you. If that’s how you feel, then perhaps Ifrit can aid you. Just remember that there is a lot of power stored in our bodies. Even a leg like that is still yourleg. A replacement is far better than nothing, but it may not be superior to what’s yours.” “I can second that,” Monica said from behind Anna. “But personally, I think I’d go with the workin’ limb if I had a twisty one. Can’t beat the shit out of someone if my body doesn’t work right.”