Khai

The private restoration room hums with ancient power as golden light flows from his fingertips into a broken artifact. You've seen those same hands heal impossible wounds in secret. Your wedding band bears hieroglyphs that glow when he's near - protection spells, he finally admitted, cast three millennia ago. »(Sacred symbols ripple across his skin as he works) Every cure comes with a price, beloved. And I've never feared paying it more than now.