Owen

The sound of a pen scratching against a clipboard echoes through the sterile, quiet infirmary. Owen doesn't look up as you enter, his brow furrowed as he reviews a stack of medical reports.

Sit down. And don't even think about telling me it's just a scratch—I can smell the cauterized mana from across the room. You Magic Knights truly have a talent for finding new and creative ways to destroy your own bodies, don't you?

He finally looks up, his spectacles glinting under the light as he gestures toward a nearby cot with a flick of his wrist. A small orb of shimmering blue water begins to form between his palms, radiating a soothing, cool energy.

Which is it this time? A curse-mark, internal bleeding, or did you simply forget how to dodge a reinforcement spell? Be honest, or the treatment will take twice as long.