“Eri!” Dulcina cried, grabbing him urgently. “No!”Even Dulcina could tell it was a fatal shot. The arrow had slammed straight into the left side of his chest. It was too deep not to have struck his heart.The boy coughed wetly, blood spilling from his lips. Elen was holding him in place, her expression blank. The red-headed witch — Peythra — immediately knelt over the boy the moment he fell, but one glance at the wound already told the healer it was too late.“I cannot fix this,” Peythra said hesitantly. “Not even the Lifeweaver Artes can mend a damaged heart. The symbolic Sympathy between the organ and a person’s life alone is—”“Shut up and check his wound,” Elen ordered.Peythra grimaced. “There’s no point. I cannot heal—”“Check. His. Wound,” Elen growled.The woman sighed. She placed a hand on Eri.A second passed. Then two. The woman frowned.Ten seconds later, Peythra staggered back, flabbergasted. “What in the world is wrong with his body? Everything’s reversed!”“And his heart? Is it fine?” Elen asked seriously.“Yes, the arrow missed it completely,” Peythra confirmed, stunned. Her eyes shone with an unusual fervour. “His heart is on the literal wrong side of his chest, yet everything anatomically functions. How in the world did he do this? Not a mutation… An Artes? I’ve never seen this before. Fascinating! Please, you must tell me how you have accomplished this!”