When Raine Crow's heart stopped beating for the third time, the first sense to return was his smell.
The acrid scent of burning flesh mixed with a bitter herbal aroma that pricked his nostrils—something like the sandalwood powder elves used to preserve their dead. Then came the pulsing rhythm from the crystal embedded in his left chest, sharp and clear like ice shards clinking together. With every beat, the wild grass at the edge of the execution ground withered in waves, turning into faintly glowing green embers that seeped into his wound.
"Heretic detector's picking up a signal!" The crunch of metal boots grinding over ashes grew louder. "Search every corpse!"
Raine forced his right eye open just a crack. Through the fingers of a nearby corpse, he spotted three white-robed inquisitors approaching, each holding a bronze compass. At the center of the compass hovered a ghostly green flame, and the mithril pointer steadily aimed at Raine's position.
The lead inquisitor, Selina, bent down. As her silver chain slipped from beneath her collar, the pendant cradled a small, murky green crystal. It resonated subtly with the one in Raine's chest, sending sharp pangs coursing through him.
"You're still alive," Selina said, her mechanical prosthetic hand grasping his chin. The green light pulsing through its hydraulic tubes shone through his skin, illuminating his teeth.
"Do you know why every person you heal ages faster?"
Suddenly, Raine convulsed violently. Thorn-like green veins blossomed beneath his skin, alive and crawling, wrapping tightly around Selina's prosthetic. The tendrils probed the joints with surgical precision—like vipers sinking fangs into vulnerable veins.
"Ah!" Selina screamed, staggering back as foul smoke hissed from her limb. More horrifying still, the exposed skin on her neck visibly slackened and withered before his eyes.
"How dare you steal the power of the Holy Light!"
Raine stumbled to his feet, suddenly able to see the flow of energy within the inquisitor. The decaying areas around her neck shimmered with a dark, foggy haze, while the joints of her prosthetic glowed with a sickly green light. The vision reminded him of the "True Sight" described in ancient elven tomes.
"Stop him!" Selina snarled, her aging face twisted in rage. "Bring him alive!"
Three silver bolts shot through the air. Instinctively, Raine rolled aside, moving with unnatural agility for a human. As one arrow grazed his arm, green threads sprouted from the wound, stitching the flesh closed like living sutures.
At that moment, a sharp knock echoed from the forest's edge. A blind, gray-robed elven elder stood in the moonlight. Her clouded eyes reflected the faint image of the crystal in Raine's chest.
"If you want to live, follow me, half-breed," the old elf's lips didn't move, but her voice rang clearly in Raine's mind. "Unless you want to become the power source for a holy silver prosthetic."