our hands they seek the end of afternoons
"Nice to meet you Oliver. I am Remi." The alchemist said gently. The pale-haired man looked roughly his age, though the years had not necessarily been kind to Remi, and it showed on his face. "It is nothing to do with you. There is...well, a god of sorts called the Voice. She is who brought you here. We do not think it is intentionally really, but it is how we found ourselves here, too." He added, trying to explain without overly complicating matters.
As for what he was meant to do? Well...
Glancing over his shoulder, Remi placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled a sharp blast. There was a mental pulse that accompanied it, though neither Oliver nor Sunjata would know that. From the snowy landscape appeared a nearly pitch-black unicorn with eyes of ocean-pebble blue. The mare flared her nostrils softly as she came to stand at the alchemist's side. The once-medic-turned-unicorn regarded the young man for such a moment, before lowering her horn.
"Isla can heal you. At the very least, she can restore some of your energy." Remi explained softly.
As for what he was meant to do? Well...
Glancing over his shoulder, Remi placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled a sharp blast. There was a mental pulse that accompanied it, though neither Oliver nor Sunjata would know that. From the snowy landscape appeared a nearly pitch-black unicorn with eyes of ocean-pebble blue. The mare flared her nostrils softly as she came to stand at the alchemist's side. The once-medic-turned-unicorn regarded the young man for such a moment, before lowering her horn.
"Isla can heal you. At the very least, she can restore some of your energy." Remi explained softly.
my hands believe and move over you
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
