An Apple a Day

Amalia I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map The staff pulses warmly in Sam's hands, the red of the luxere antler emitting a soft glow. As he holds it, the Ascended will indeed feel some of his injury easing: soon enough, his ankle will be not so far from normal. Watching the magic work on her brother, Amalia cannot help a soft remark, almost too low to be heard. "Maybe you don't need the Voice as much as you thought." Wincing at the reminder of Abasi's death, Amalia's mouth twists into an unhappy line. She has far more thoughts on the matter, primary among them being if he wasn't over Abasi he shouldn't have pursued you, but Sam's final comment stills her tongue. Knitting her brows together, the Shield steps forward to peer at Sam. "Why would you say that?" She shakes her head. "It's not your fault that Loren's a mess. Even Remi..." Well. Amalia doesn't know all the details of that sordid affair, except that there was a great deal of memory loss involved on both sides. And I knew that somehow I could find my way back