Grasping After Light
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
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#15
Я
"Vai, perhaps?" Actually, Vai was the only one Remi knew of having proper healing magic in any substantial amount. Other than that, he merely shook his head. "They heal so fast I am not sure any have tried." With a glance towards Loren, the alchemist exhaled a steady stream from his nose. "Easy? They will have to be significantly wounded. Give them something small like a knife wound and they'll heal before your eyes."

Remi offered the bard a non-committal sound. No Ronin hadn't passed along the descriptions of different magic, but yes Remi would like it. Just now the words seemed to be far too much, and so he pulsed a weak note of appreciation to the bard even as his gaze lingered on the Oasis soil.

Nerves too frayed, heart too raw, soul too lonely, the most Remi could do was laugh hollowly at the summoner. "Don't worry Loren. I have not seen Ronin in a week or so. You are safe." The words were cold; far colder than most would likely think the alchemist capable of. But that was what happened when your nights were spent alone. It wasn't what the summoner had meant, but the alchemist didn't care. Ronin wasn't around to be bothered about his condition, so Loren shouldn't either.

Tell Rory you love him every day until you no longer can. Do not take a single moment of clarity for granted. The words were silent, but the tears in Remi's eyes were loud enough. I am sorry. I cannot do this right now. Whether the bard would look into the alchemist's bared soul was his choice. If he did though, he'd find it thoroughly scared and scarred, drowned in a sea of agony, longing, and heartbreak. Ronin was gone, in mind and in body, and the alchemist simply couldn't take Loren's flippant optimism. Not when he hadn't been here, not when he was just starting to unravel this puzzle and still had hope to spare.

And so as Loren turned to conjure the Spark Bird, the alchemist shifted, and flew unsteadily away.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#16
Jigano winced as Remi explained how Ascended would need deep wounds in order to test Healing magic on. ”Well, just keep an eye out for if the chance arises then,” he suggested more weakly, not wanting their experiments to become harmful to their friends. If someone was badly hurt doing something else and magical Healing could speed their recovery that would be enough.

Loren made a good point on waiting, something the bard should have thought of as well. He was so tired that it seemed things were slipping away, but the appearance of the luxere had given him something almost resembling hope, and he tried to hold himself together as the two men not-quite-bickered. Remi was being stubborn, and Loren was too flippant and Jigano felt a growl trying to rise up from deep in his chest, vibrating against the back of his teeth. Only Rory’s name in his mind shocked him out of snapping at them both, and he looked to the alchemist with wide blue eyes. He hadn’t intended to look beyond the words that Remi offered; would never have done so if he had been shielding as he ought, but they were both too vulnerable for him not to catch a glimpse of a soul battered to the breaking point.

He could never have imagined sweet, optimistic, naïve Remi being in such a state. Hurting, yes, but scarred and falling into despair? It sent the white-haired man reeling unsteadily back, unable to react in time to stop the hawk from making his escape.

He missed the bloody ritual the Launceleyn performed to call fire from the air, but even in his shock he couldn’t miss the heat and light that streamed behind him. Twisting he could only stare in awe as the Spark Bird – or a simulacrum of it – flew majestically over the Oasis, scattering sparks with each beat of its wings. Jigano drew in a breath that burned, tilting his face up to the light of hope (that most poisonous of blooms) and dimly wondered why there were no tears on his cheeks in the face of such wonder.

”Yes,” he breathed quietly, conflicting emotions in his voice. Awe, yes, but also something darker, something cruel and hungry that saw the light as something to snuff out rather than celebrate. Perhaps it was for the best that Remi had escaped, lest he sense the shift through the Attuned link. ”Gods most fortunate, you might give the Hollowed Grounds a chance this year.” Even if the bird could only be summoned for a short time each day it might be enough to sear the monsters away from doors, give guards and searchers a chance to make a quick circuit of the Sanctuary and rescue those in need.

Something twisted in him, snapping through the shield of weariness, the numb cotton that wrapped his emotions. He threw his head back in laughter – a bitter, angry sound, utterly without joy. ”And is there anything crueler than hope?”
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
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#17
Loren had just meant that unlike the rest of their tests, this was something they could actually prove or disprove. And it wasn’t like the Ascended felt pain, so wounding them would be emotionally hard, but physically not an inconvenience for the race. But given how Jigano and Remi were, it didn’t seem worth clarifying that point. When the alchemist admitted he hadn’t seen Ronin for a week, the summoner sucked in a sympathetic breath. ’I’m sorry, Remi.” However, it wasn’t enough to keep the other man here; Remi shifted and flew off, and Loren only noticed after he turned around and saw the alchemist was gone.

As Jigano confirmed that this was, indeed, a Spark Bird, or close enough to it that it made no difference, Loren dismissed his summon, which disappeared without a trace. At the raw emotion in the white-haired man’s voice, the Launceleyn turned to the bard, the summoner's voice firm and unwavering. ”We. We might give the Hollowed Grounds a chance this year.” This was, and always had been, a group effort: all Loren was offering was his unique expertise, since it had been made very clear to him that he couldn’t do it all on his old, as well as his stubborn refusal it seemed. And that lesson, that he needed help as much as he needed to give it, had finally stuck. At the bard’s next comment, however, the summoner just smiled sadly. ”Yes. Giving it up.” That was something Loren knew from experience.

Turning to gather his things, Loren checked his magic. It was mostly depleted, but he still had a few sparks left. ”I’m going to try and find Remi, and shove what healing I can down his throat.” It was perhaps not the best method—and it probably wouldn’t work—but the Launceleyn was annoyed at the other man’s behavior and worried for the alchemist, both his health and well-being. That always made Loren a bit short, and he’d never claimed to have the best bedside manner. ”If you need me for additional tests, send me a note or come find me.” They’d done all they could for today.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#18
We was such an optimistic word, one that Jigano had arrived believing in - or at least, not actively fighting against. For Amalia, for Ludo, for Rory... he had to be better. Had to fight back against the creeping, seeping darkness that was staining his soul, and pretend that everything was fine. Each of them knew better, of course, but others, ones who didn't know him so well, he had some hope of fooling.

'Had' being the appropriate past tense as bitter despair, ignited by what he had touched in Remi's mind, erupted past his last defenses. The laughter, if the sound could be called that, barked a final time at Loren's weak rebuttal. "On the contrary, there's no greater kindness," he managed as laughter faded to a grin without humor. "Just ask Remi, when you find him. I will look forward to hearing how that goes. Leave some Healing for yourself, scholar. You're going to need it."

Isuma looked between the two men, curling down into a little white ball of miserable fluff at Jigano's meanness, and the petty jabs he made at the summoner who had just created a miracle. The bard merely waved as Loren left, the Oasis a little colder after the Spark Bird's brief appearance, but it was a mocking gesture rather than a true farewell.

There was snow on the wind, coming soon, and for some within the Hollowed Grounds it couldn't arrive soon enough.


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