Deimos's question was an interesting one, and it brought the shadow of a smile back to the bard's lips. "Not as much as she might wish," he granted with a tilt of his sharp chin. "Not as one born here would, no. I had magic on my world and I missed it dearly while I tried to resign myself to never having it again. The magic here is... different. It requires no incantations or gestures, no components or prayers. But the ability to heal again? For that alone I would have dared much, had I known. Even so... the price was steeper than I would have willingly paid, had I been given a choice," he admitted, sobriety returning as he joined the General in overseeing the fallen soldiers on the field.
The observation was a keen one, and Jigano snorted softly. "It was not intentional, I assure you. I knew there was risk in doing so... but I considered her the safer choice than Frey. Perhaps unwisely so." He shrugged, for what was done was done, and he could not change it now.
What he could do in the moment was to take smaller sections of the targets, careful not to overtax his still-weak limbs, and carry them after Deimos for reattachment. His magic continued to flow through him, warm and reassuring as feeling resumed its normal operation in the tips of fingers and toes, and he reveled in the re-invigoration of life and health after the ordeal he had requested at the General's hands. Mention of Rory was met with a pause though, the slightest of faltering as the bard's expression both softened and saddened. "One could," he agreed quietly. "But he needs to discover what happened to his old family before he starts a new one. Until we know what happened to his sister, any talk of rings will have to wait."
The observation was a keen one, and Jigano snorted softly. "It was not intentional, I assure you. I knew there was risk in doing so... but I considered her the safer choice than Frey. Perhaps unwisely so." He shrugged, for what was done was done, and he could not change it now.
What he could do in the moment was to take smaller sections of the targets, careful not to overtax his still-weak limbs, and carry them after Deimos for reattachment. His magic continued to flow through him, warm and reassuring as feeling resumed its normal operation in the tips of fingers and toes, and he reveled in the re-invigoration of life and health after the ordeal he had requested at the General's hands. Mention of Rory was met with a pause though, the slightest of faltering as the bard's expression both softened and saddened. "One could," he agreed quietly. "But he needs to discover what happened to his old family before he starts a new one. Until we know what happened to his sister, any talk of rings will have to wait."
