Sand gritted between Elaine's fingers as consciousness returned. The texture felt alien after a millennium of the island's unchanging surface. A breeze brushed her face, carrying the tang of salt and rotting seaweed. Her eyes opened to a grey sky, clouds scudding across it in an endless dance of shapes.

  She sat up, taking in the beach stretching in both directions. Unlike the perfect crescent of her challenge island, this shoreline curved naturally, decorated with driftwood and shells.

  The last time she'd woken on a beach flashed through her mind—young, scared, clutching her medical bag as if it could shield her from whatever fate awaited. Now power thrummed through her, steady as a heartbeat.

  Elaine pressed a hand to her arm and concentrated. The familiar warmth of healing magic responded instantly, though it felt different here—more fluid, less constrained. She drew a knife from her belt and made a small cut on her palm. The wound sealed before the first drop of blood could fall.

  The forest beckoned beyond the beach. Pine and oak replaced the uniform trees of her island, their branches swaying in patterns that spoke of real weather, real seasons. Her boots crunched through shells and sand as she approached the treeline.

  A rustle caught her attention. A deer emerged from the undergrowth, its head lifting as it noticed her. On the island, there had been no wildlife—only the monsters she fought each day. The deer's presence struck her with unexpected force. Such a simple thing, this meeting of eyes between two living creatures.

  The deer's ears flicked forward, curious rather than afraid. Elaine remained still, savoring this moment of—

  A scream pierced the air. Multiple voices—children's voices—raised in terror. The deer bolted as Elaine's head snapped toward the sound, coming from deeper in the forest.

  * * *

  Elaine sprinted through the forest, her feet finding purchase on the uneven ground without conscious thought. The screams grew louder, punctuated by the crash of something large moving through the undergrowth.

  She burst into a clearing to find two children scrambling up a tree, a massive brown bear rising on its hind legs below them. The boy had pushed the smaller girl ahead of him, but his foot slipped on the bark. He dangled precariously, the bear's claws inches from his legs.

  Elaine crossed the distance in a heartbeat. Her hand struck the bear's chest with precise force—just enough to stop its heart instantly. The massive creature toppled sideways, dead before it hit the ground.

  "You can come down now. It's safe." She kept her voice gentle, noting how the children trembled.

  The girl climbed down first, followed by her brother. Both had scratches from their desperate flight through the forest.

  "Let me see those cuts." Elaine knelt beside them, her hands already glowing with healing energy. The scratches sealed themselves, leaving unblemished skin.

  The boy's eyes widened. "You have the healing gift, like Edwin! But... stronger."

  "I know a few tricks." Elaine brushed off the comment. "I'm Elaine. And you are?"

  "Thomas. This is my sister Sarah." He gestured to the girl who had pressed herself against his side. "Thank you for saving us."

  Sarah nodded eagerly. "We live in Riverside! Papa's probably worried sick—we were supposed to just check the berry bushes near the edge of the forest."

  "Which we wouldn't have had to do if someone hadn't eaten all the berries meant for the pies," Thomas said, giving his sister a look that spoke of sibling arguments older than this particular incident.

  "Would you like to come back with us?" Sarah asked, already tugging at Elaine's sleeve. "The village isn't far."

  Thomas straightened his tunic, eyes darting between Elaine and the massive bear. "The village will want to thank you properly. Everyone helps each other there—and you saved our lives."

  "I was just passing through." Elaine studied the bear's bulk. In death, its fearsome presence had transformed into something more practical—resources waiting to be used.

  "Please come," Sarah wrapped both hands around Elaine's forearm. "Mama makes the best stew in Riverside, and—" Her eyes widened as she looked at the bear. "Oh! What do we do with it?"

  Thomas kicked at a fallen leaf. "Seems wrong to leave it here to rot."

  "The meat and fur shouldn't go to waste." Elaine ran her hand along the bear's thick pelt. "Perhaps your village has hunters who could come back for it?"

  "Old Jakob and his sons!" Thomas nodded vigorously. "They handle all the big game. They'll know exactly what to do." He grabbed his sister's hand. "Come on, Sarah. We need to tell them before it gets dark."

  "You'll come too, won't you?" Sarah's grip on Elaine's arm tightened. "Please? Just for a little while?"

  Elaine watched Sarah's face turn hopeful, those small fingers still wrapped around her arm. A thousand years since she'd felt such innocent trust. Such simple human contact.

  "I'll come." The words emerged softer than intended.

  Sarah bounced on her toes. "This way! We know all the shortcuts."

  They set off through the forest, Sarah's hand slipping naturally into Elaine's. The girl skipped beside her, apparently recovered from the bear encounter, pointing out every interesting plant and rock they passed.

  Thomas led their small group, pushing branches aside and checking the path ahead. His shoulders remained tense, his movements precise. Every few steps he glanced back at Elaine, questions burning in his eyes.

  "How did you stop the bear?" he finally asked. "I've seen hunters take down bears before, but never like that."

  "I've learned many things in my travels. Some about healing, some about protecting myself."

  "Where did you travel?" Sarah tugged at her hand. "Did you see dragons? Or elves? Maya says elves live in the eastern forests, but I think she's lying."

  "Sarah," Thomas sighed. "Everyone knows those are just stories."

  "I never encountered any elves myself." Elaine stepped over a fallen log. "But.."

  "But you've heard of them?" Sarah's interrupted with sparkling eyes.

  "I've heard many tales." Elaine kept her voice neutral. "Though I find regular people far more interesting."

  "Like what kind of people?" Thomas slowed his pace to walk beside them.

  "Healers, craftsmen, farmers. People who build communities and help each other." She squeezed Sarah's hand gently. "People like you and your sister, who look out for each other."

  * * *

  The forest thinned, revealing a village nestled against a winding river. Wooden buildings clustered along the water's edge, smoke rising from chimneys in lazy spirals. The sound of hammering drifted from a smithy, mixing with distant bleats of sheep.

  "Mama!" Sarah broke away, sprinting toward a woman hanging laundry. "Mama, look who we found!"

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  The woman dropped her washing, rushing to gather both children in her arms. Her blonde hair matched Sarah's, though hers was bound in a practical braid. "Where have you been? I was about to send your father searching—" She pulled back, examining Thomas's torn sleeve. "What happened?"

  "There was a bear, but Elaine saved us." Thomas gestured behind him. "She killed it with one touch."

  The woman's arms tightened around her children before she straightened, turning to face Elaine. Her eyes held a mother's fierce protectiveness tempered with genuine gratitude. "I'm Mary. Thank you for protecting them."

  "They were brave." Elaine kept her distance, aware of how her presence might appear to a protective parent. "Thomas made sure Sarah got to safety first."

  Mary's hand brushed Thomas's hair. "That sounds like my son." She studied Elaine more closely. "You're not from around here."

  "I'm traveling through."

  "Mama, she's a healer!" Sarah bounced on her toes. "She fixed all our scratches. Show her, Thomas!"

  Mary's expression shifted from polite interest to focused attention. "A healer? We lost our village healer three winters ago."

  "She's better than Edwin ever was." Thomas rolled up his sleeve, displaying unmarked skin. "The cuts just disappeared."

  "Then you must stay for supper." Mary's tone brooked no argument. "It's the least we can do, and you look like you could use a proper meal."

  Elaine followed Mary toward a sturdy wooden house near the village center. The familiar scents of wood shavings and fresh-cut lumber filled the air, reminding her of cabinets she'd crafted centuries ago during her early days on the island. A man worked at a carpenter's bench outside, his broad shoulders bent over some intricate detail.

  The steady rhythm of his chisel paused as they approached. He looked up, his dark hair—Thomas's hair—streaked with early gray at the temples.

  "Where have you two been?" He set his tools aside with careful precision. His eyes found Elaine, and he straightened. "Who's this?"

  Mary stepped forward, one hand still resting protectively on Sarah's shoulder. "James, the children ran into trouble in the forest. A bear—"

  "It was huge, Papa!" Thomas spread his arms wide. "Bigger than Old Jakob's horse! And Elaine, she just touched it and it fell over dead! Then she healed our scratches like they were nothing—better than Edwin ever could."

  James's expression shifted as he listened, the initial confusion giving way to something deeper. He crossed the space between them in three long strides and clasped Elaine's hand in both of his. The calluses of his palms pressed against her skin, his grip firm but trembling slightly.

  "You have my deepest gratitude." His voice caught rough in his throat. "If you hadn't been there..."

  "But I was." Elaine met his gaze steadily. "And your children are safe."

  The warmth of the house wrapped around Elaine as she stepped inside. A thousand years of isolation made the simple domestic scene feel surreal—the worn wooden table, herbs drying from ceiling beams, a half-finished shirt draped over a chair. Her enhanced senses picked up layers of scents: fresh bread, wool, wood smoke, the indefinable smell of a home well-lived in.

  "You must be hungry after your travels," Mary said, busying herself at the hearth. "Where are you coming from, if you don't mind my asking?"

  Elaine's fingers traced the smooth edge of the table, buying time. The truth—that she'd spent a millennium on a magical island fighting monsters—would hardly serve here. "I've been traveling a long time," she said, which was true enough. "Looking for somewhere to settle, perhaps."

  Sarah latched onto her arm again, face bright with excitement. "You should stay here! You can be our village healer. Old Edwin died three winters ago, and now people have to go all the way to Milltown when they're really sick."

  "Sarah, don't pester our guest." Mary's tone held fond exasperation, but her eyes studied Elaine with careful consideration. "Though she's not wrong about our need for a healer. Edwin's house still stands empty—no one's had the heart to move in. If you truly are looking to settle somewhere..."

  The possibility hit Elaine with unexpected force. A house. Patients. A community. Things she'd forgotten how to want during her centuries of focused survival. Her throat tightened. "I would like to see it," she managed carefully. "Though I wouldn't want to impose."

  "Nonsense," Mary said firmly. "After what you did today, you're already one of us."

  * * *

  The warmth of Mary's stew lingered as they stepped into the afternoon sun. Elaine's enhanced senses picked up the mingled aromas of fresh-baked bread and woodsmoke, layered with the earthy scent of tilled fields and livestock.

  "Lady Elaine killed a bear with one touch!" Sarah bounced ahead, her voice carrying across the village square. "And she can heal anything!"

  "Sarah," Mary sighed, but her lips curved in amusement. "Though I suppose there's no keeping it quiet now."

  The baker emerged from his shop, flour dusting his apron. His weathered face creased into a smile as he pressed warm rolls into Elaine's hands. "Welcome to Riverside. I'm Daniel. We've missed having a healer here."

  "The rolls are still warm." Elaine caught the subtle notes of honey and herbs in the bread.

  "First batch of many, if you stay." Daniel winked. "A healer needs keeping up her strength."

  They passed Greta's herb garden next, where the older woman straightened from her plants with visible relief. "Finally, someone who knows what to do with these properly. I've been trying my best since Edwin passed, but..." She gestured at her collection of medicinal herbs. "Well, they'll serve better in trained hands."

  More villagers emerged as they walked—a weaver offering thread for sutures, the tavern keeper promising a hot meal whenever needed, farmers touching their caps in respect. Children darted around them, eyes wide with curiosity. Each face held welcome rather than the fear Elaine had been warned about.

  "Everyone's just happy to see you," Mary said softly. "We've had too many close calls without a proper healer nearby."

  Sarah tugged at Elaine's sleeve, pointing ahead. "Look, there's the smithy! Clarence makes the best horseshoes in three villages."

  The steady ring of hammer on anvil drew them forward, and Elaine found herself relaxing into the simple rhythm of village life.

  Clarence stood at his anvil, each strike precise and purposeful. His dark hair and beard, heavily streaked with gray, caught the forge's light as he shaped the glowing metal.

  He paused mid-strike, eyes narrowing as he took in their group. "Mary." His gaze settled on Elaine. "This the one everyone's talking about?"

  "She saved Thomas and Sarah from a bear." Mary's voice carried quiet confidence.

  Clarence set his hammer down, studying Elaine with open skepticism. "Heard tell you killed it with a touch. Sounds like tavern talk to me."

  "I did what needed doing." Elaine met his gaze steadily.

  "She's amazing!" Sarah bounced forward. "She healed all our scratches too, better than Edwin ever could. Look!" She thrust her unmarked arm toward Clarence.

  "Healing's one thing. Bears are another." Clarence crossed his arms. "Village needs honest folk, not—"

  A crash from the back of the smithy cut him off. His apprentice had stumbled, sending a red-hot poker flying through the air toward Mary and Sarah.

  Elaine's hand snapped out, catching the glowing metal before it could harm anyone. She lowered it carefully to the anvil, her movements calm and deliberate.

  Silence fell. Every eye fixed Elaine, she turned her palms up, displaying the unblemished skin to the gathered crowd. "Just an old healer's trick. See? No harm done." She kept her voice light, casual, though her enhanced senses picked up the rapid heartbeats of those around her.

  The gathered villagers leaned forward, straining to spot any sign of injury. Sarah reached out to touch Elaine's hand with careful fingers, her eyes wide.

  Clarence stepped closer, his weathered face creased in concentration as he examined her palm. The heat from that poker would have seared through leather, let alone bare flesh. His skeptical expression shifted to something more thoughtful.

  "Might be there's truth to that bear story after all." He picked up his hammer, turning it over in his hands. "Though I'd wager there's more to you than meets the eye."

  Elaine let her hands drop to her sides, tucking them into the folds of her tunic. A thousand years of deflecting attention had taught her when to step back from scrutiny. "I should see this empty healer's cottage Mary mentioned."

  "Of course." Mary caught the shift in Elaine's tone, smoothly stepping between her and the curious onlookers. "Sarah, why don't you show Elaine the way? You know the path better than anyone."

  Sarah grabbed Elaine's hand, apparently unbothered by its recent contact with red-hot metal. "Come on! It's just past the miller's house."

  Behind them, Elaine heard Clarence's low whistle and his muttered words to his apprentice: "Next time, mind where you're stepping. We might not have a miracle worker around to catch what falls."

  * * *

  The cottage sat back from the main path, half-hidden behind a tangle of herbs gone wild. Elaine paused at the gate, taking in the weathered stone walls and the thick thatch roof. A healer's home, unchanged across centuries. The sight stirred memories of her own first dwelling, before the island.

  "Edwin kept his workroom through here." Mary pushed open the heavy wooden door. Dust motes swirled in the afternoon light streaming through grimy windows.

  Elaine's fingers traced the worn workbench, reading the history carved into its surface. Knife marks from countless hours preparing herbs. Ring stains from pottery bowls. The ghost of Edwin's practice lingered in every corner.

  "The shelves need organizing." Sarah darted around the room, pointing out features. "And everything's dusty. But look - there's space for all your medicines!"

  The main room opened to a small bedroom and kitchen. Simple. Practical. The floorboards creaked beneath Elaine's feet as she explored, already mapping where she'd place her supplies.

  "Edwin lived here forty years." Mary watched Elaine from the doorway. "The village provided what he needed. We'd do the same for you."

  The cottage felt right. After a millennium of isolation, its quiet dignity called to something deep within her. A place to heal. To belong.

  "I'll stay." The words came easily, settling into place like the last stone in a wall.

  Sarah squealed, launching herself at Elaine. "Can I help? Please? I'll learn everything about herbs and bandages and-"

  "Sarah." Mary's gentle reproach held a smile.

  "No, it's alright." Elaine found herself returning Sarah's enthusiasm. "A healer needs an apprentice."

  Mary stepped forward, clasping Elaine's hand. "Then welcome home, Healer Elaine."

  The title fit differently than her many others - less weight, more warmth. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching the dust, and for a moment the cottage glowed with possibility.