Area of Effect
The sun rises, casting a glare on the polished plate mail peeking out of the closet. One would be proud of the noble shimmer, yet all Purist felt was remorse. It had been almost a decade since time had shown any use for it, not after the terrible act his mind fails to escape night after night.
The alarm clock chirped, signaling the start of a brand new day, much like any other. Slapping the snooze button, he rises from another sleepless night,and, after preparation, heads outside to greet the general populace. After the battles of time immemorial, Purist had sought a stable line of work in this day and age, the field of medical practice. He had no trouble understanding the importance of a title such as this, as long as he could hide his true power from those he loved the most.
The hospital was a bright affair of white walls and sick smiles, walking in a constant and slow repetition. Purist moves beyond the shifting faces to his office, his sanctuary for the time being. Lonely folders adorn his desk, one of which contains the case of his sleepless nights, an inerasable sin he couldn't stop reviewing. It told of a young girl, surrounded by family members, attempting to breathe. The girl had a twisted look on her face, as she helplessly choked in the arms of her mother. Purist had been in the vicinity, and, being the ambitious youth he was, took the girl into his arms. His hand shined with a piercing light, and the entire area was enveloped in the glow. When the light faded, the girl glanced silently at Purist and smiled, until she realized that everyone around them had been lost to the miracle.
While conducting his rounds, Purist heard a slight chirp from one of the patient's rooms.
A voice as familiar as it is delicate greeted him as he entered the room. To his surprise, it was the same girl from the incident, now blossomed into a young woman.
“We really need to stop meeting like this”, the girl playfully noted.
“Exactly, why are you here?”
Purist and the girl locked each other in deep discussion, catching up and explaining everything that had happened that fateful day. To Purist, this was a failure in disguise, his miracle should have saved her , it should have prevented a meeting like this. Deep in thought, a single phrase snapped him out of his debating mind.
“It's Terminal, Doctor...”
Walking home, Purist couldn't even begin to understand the situation he's been placed in, even for a second time. The slow downfall of rain didn't help clear his head, so he succumbed to a cafe for relief. Two creams swirled in the black coffee, lulling Purist into a trance, if not for the bickering of the other customers. Looking around, he saw several lone people, with the exception of one table. A family, happily discussing dessert, occupied the seat. Purist couldn't help but focus on the child, a small girl, happily dancing around to each of her relatives. The sight couldn't have had worse timing, alas Purist gets a page, breaking him from his catatonia. At a glance, Purist thinks nothing of it, but he knows what has happened, and the choice that must be made.
Entering the hospital, one room draws Purist's attention immediately, the young woman's room, and the world comes to a slow as he pushes his way through the crowd. Reaching the room was one struggle, but the sight he witnessed was entirely different. The girl, laid out atop her bedsheets with several Intravenous needles in her arms. Every resource had been used, and nothing, not even defibrillation, could make her eyes open once more.
This was the manifestation of his fears, the day that he had begged to never come, but it came, and he felt history repeating itself in a cruel fashion. What could he do? Was he to stand and watch this poor woman die again?
“Everyone, leave the room, now!” Purist blared at the top of his lungs, forcing everyone to evacuate the area.
“But, Doctor, She needs help!” One of the nurses proclaimed.
“I know, just trust me, please!”
With that, not a soul lingered, and darted to the nearest stairwell to seek refuge from whatever Purist might have in mind.
All was silent , save for the deep breathing of Purist's heavy heart. He knew that this would be the beginning of the rest of his life, but at what cost? He had worked so hard to construct the lies needed to erase the strain of the past.
“May you live on, child.”
Purist placed his hand above the woman's heart, and it began to glow, faint at first, but painful to view, even to Purist. The light grew stronger, and stronger, until the entire floor of the hospital was engulfed in the same light he so fondly remembers, only to erupt in a blinding explosion. Silence returned shortly after, yet Purist did not, all that remained was a single candle with a shimmering amulet wrapped around its base.
No one had heard from Purist after that day, some say he left town, others make nonsensical tales of seeing a plated knight patrolling the corridors, but one thing was for sure, the Omniknight understood his purpose in life that day, and shall fulfill this duty until he draws his final breath.