Or maybe magical healing doesnāt leave scars or damage. It is magical, after all.
So after years of fighting, your skin is still perfect. Unmarred. In fact, youāre actually in betterĀ shape than regular people who donāt get magical healing when they fall out of trees or walk into doors or cut themselves while cooking dinner. Youāre in such good shape that itās unnatural.
And the reallyĀ good healing magic takes away more than just the obvious injuries. You first start noticing it after about ten years when you go home and haha, you look the same age as your younger sibling, thatās funny.
Not so funny ten years later when they look older. Or forty years later, when you bury them still looking like you did at twenty. When do you retire from this gig anyway? How much damage is too much damage?
How many times do you glimpse the afterlife, or worse, how many times donātĀ you? What do you live through, get used to, show no outward sign of except a perfectly healthy body, too perfect for any person living a real life.
How many times are you sitting in a tavern with your friends and you hear the whispers, because the people around you know.Ā How can they not know? Your weapons shine with enchantments and your armour is better than the best money can buy and there is not a damn scar on you. You hardly seem human to them.
How long before you hardly seem human to yourself?
And you find yourself struggling to remember the places where the scars shouldĀ have been, phantom pains that wake you screaming, touching all the old injuries and finding nothing there. Itās all in your head. Was it ever anywhere else?
How long before youāre fighting a lich or a vampire or some other undead monster and you wonderā¦
ā¦what makes me so different?
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