"Thank you, Hazel-san."
"Not at all. Take care of yourself."
When Father uses healing magic, light injuries heal almost instantly.
The patients, now healed, thank Father and leave their seats.
"See you again, Sharlerria-chan."
"Don’t say 'see you again.' Be careful out there."
Father’s healing clinic operates on a prepaid basis.
It’s not uncommon for people to claim they have no money after being healed.
For light injuries, the cost is one silver coin.
Since commoner healers are extremely rare, people say that this town is fortunate to have Father.
Yet, some complain that one silver coin for a minor injury is too expensive.
Some even whisper that my name, “Sharlerria,” isn’t suitable for a commoner and that I act high and mighty because my father is a healer.
Among commoners, healers, being relatively well-paid, often face envy and resentment.
"People are selfish creatures."
Father often says this at night.
"If I don’t heal them because they didn’t pay, they accuse me of abandoning them, calling me a murderer. Do they expect me to provide charity for free? Ridiculous. The moment I heal someone for free, others will come saying, 'You treated them for free, so why not me?'"
I think Father has encountered many such people in his life.
This is the fifth town we’ve lived in.
After my mother passed away, we moved and moved again, eventually settling here, the fifth town.
"If you ever learn to use healing magic, Sharlerria, abandon any notions of kindness toward your patients. It’s normal for someone who thanked you yesterday to glare at you with bloodshot eyes and complain the next day. Most people foolishly believe that for just a silver coin or two, any injury or illness can be cured. If that were true, why did my Charlotte—your mother—die? I’m just a commoner healer. Very few commoners understand that."
Father’s nightly lectures always end with, "Don’t trust others."
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