who we are and all that we're trying to be
A sudden lift of his senses, a brief restoration to clarity as the water slid down his throat – eyes blinking rapidly, as if striving to understand how the aches and pains became residual, vacant, there, but in the background. It took him several breaths to realize what had occurred, gaze darting back to the glass in his hand, to the gathered around him, to the way he’d manifested himself here, in this wake. Stunned and disbelieving, he twisted his head in every direction, mind rapidly attempting to salvage information, then shaken, as if he were a great beast rising from the ashes, advancing momentarily, struggling to realize it was of his own volition, and not a delirious wander into highlands.
Morgan rattled off a series of informative notions, and his brain struggled to keep up, permitting the words to wash over him, the senses and indications from Loren nearby warping into his membrane simultaneously. Frey’s Breath. The Climb. Don’t go alone. The cure not permanent.
He wouldn’t have this for long, and neither would the rest of them.
Time was of the essence then, and as he placed steps and strides towards the water, he created and contorted several larger vials, placing them nearby, in case someone required a longer journey or had a far more massive thirst. “Thank you,” the monolith indicated to anyone nearby, piercing gaze segmenting towards the Firebrand. We can go when you are ready. Volunteering himself, to repay, to mitigate the damage he’d caused, and at least try to solve the current dilemma; to go towards the Climb and find something. That hadn’t required any forethought at all.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
