Heal Me O'lord Novels & Stories

"OH" "You still have doubts about my powers my child. Haha! I am god. I will heal all sicknesses. And these puny demi-gods known as politicians shall all be wiped out. They have eaten-up the earth for their own personal vandetas, making these people suffer. I will bring a new order." As the voice said all this, A chill enveloped Y. "My lord, you are worthy!" Y worshipped. And then he continued. "But my lord there seems to be a problem."

"Grand Healer Mola was one of the greatest Head Healers in the ocean at her time. Hence, the title Grand. There's nothing she can't heal, and if there is then no one else can. We just have to wait and pray she's able to heal Sophia." I eyed the closed door. Wait, for what exactly?

“Do you not remember the first lecture we had? When I explained healers?” I think back. “Oh—yeah. You said they were extinct.” “Close,” she says, leaning forward on her desk. “High healers are rare. Not gone. They’re individuals with enough innate power to mend any wound—save for death itself—just by will alone. And you, Eldon Thorne, are one of them.” “Me?” My voice cracks, because how else do you react to being told you’re something out of myth? “Yes. That green glow when you heal? That’s the mark of it. Have you always had it?”

It stings to the touch but heals quickly, the exterior of my face finally mended back to it’s semi-perfect state, thanks to my overly perfect blood. “Ouch,” I hiss, the healer puncturing my upper arm with a long, silver needle. “Relax,” Olivera says, stern. “Just putting it where it belongs this time,” the healer murmurs. I feel my body go limp; my wolf long gone now. “Wolfsbane.”

The room held its breath, anticipation hanging like a fragile thread. Then, a warmth spread through Orion's veins, a gentle glow illuminating his skin. Color returned to his cheeks, chasing away the pallor of illness. Strength rekindled in his eyes, their brightness burning away the shadows. Rosalind's healing energy enveloped Orion, seeking to break the Order's hold. Her empathic senses resonated with his struggle, guiding the antidote's potency. "Fight it, Father," Tristan urged, his voice low and urgent. "We're here for you."

Marcus later told me that was the moment I was burned into his memory, becoming his eternal moonlight. Years later, when Alice fell gravely ill and was admitted to the pack's healing center, Marcus and I crossed paths again. He had become a composed and brilliant head healer, his wolf's natural instincts making him extraordinarily gifted at sensing illness and injury. Meanwhile, I was frantically grasping at every possible lifeline to keep my sister breathing. Without my knowledge, Marcus had been covering all of Alice's medical expenses and personally overseeing her treatment, his healing energy flowing into her night after night to pull her back from death's threshold.

The Omnipotent Lord stood up and headed toward the formation within the restricted area. Along the way, the Omnipotent Lord repeatedly warned James of things he had to pay attention to while meeting the Ursa. James nodded obediently. Soon, they arrived at the formation. The Omnipotent Lord stood in front and shouted, “Master, I’ve brought a powerhouse to see you. He has a Chaotic Treasure capable of healing any kind of injury. I brought him to see your injuries.” The Omnipotent Lord’s voice resounded. “Didn’t I tell you not to ever leak my location to another person? Since he knows where I am, he has to die.”

The music at the Full Moon feast was deafening. I bent down, fumbling with the strap on my heel. When I looked up, they were already gone. My fated mate, Callum—the feared Alpha of the Red Maple pack—and Freya, my once-best friend. I started to follow. To lift my dress and run. But the space by his side—my space, the Luna's space—was already gone. Their bodies were pressed close. Whispering about pack politics. Things I'd never understand. It was like I wasn't even there. An outsider. I always knew we'd have an arranged marriage. Callum and me. Finding out we were Mates was no surprise. Our wolves were made for each other. A fatal attraction. Until Freya proved herself as a lethal fighter. S

Due to his healing ability, he was able to quickly get rid of the dark magic and heal himself but the thought that he had been fooled by a demon worshipper had him buried in an avalanche of shame. ‘My lord would be extremely disappointed… I must capture that savage!’ he thought with rage. “Lord Orinda! My emissary are you okay?” the guard called out worriedly, he’d be so dead if one of the most important human emissaries for worship was injured. Even his life was petty in comparison! “I’m alright dear. You poor soul, let me free you of this defilement,” Orinda stated with a pitiful look before bending over to heal the male amidst his cries to leave his ‘useless self’.

Even the best healers say the same. Father has gone in and out of Odyssey numerous times in search of a cure but all to no avail. She remains bedridden, unable to move any part of her body and with great difficulty, struggles to move her neck. Without taking my eyes away from her pale face, I asked the royal physician, Geneva, who was busy packing her bags of herbs and potions, "Would she be okay?" I knew the answer because it wasn't the first I had asked the exact same question. "It would take time." She sighed, "The queen is a really strong woman, you should be strong for her as well." She advised and I tilted my head to meet her sad gaze. Her lips curved in a sad smile as she turned aroun