S A M U E L
"O-oh, they're just at my stall. Well, except one because I sold it." He had traded the book for some meat and spices, the information in all of his tomes already copied in a draft edition in his home. He had been meaning to remake the book he had lost but had not had a reason so far, medical texts far from the most popular of his offerings.
Isla's answer to his question was interesting, to say the least. He had not spoken to many Outlanders, but the ones he had spoken to seemed to have come from worlds of a similar advancement to his own or behind it. Sam wondered what a world with new everything would look like.
"I don't think I need much...help." He shrugged. "Ascended...we don't feel much. Or...anything, really. I don't feel pain or cold or heat and my wounds..." He lifted the cloth from his hand, looked at the mark on his palm which was already fading. "They heal faster. I'm sure other people need it more than us. Besides..."
Sam glanced off to the side and wrinkled his nose. "Other Ascended are not nice people. You d-don't want to help them."
I AM THE OCEAN CLAWING AT YOUR MOON
