XOqNI

[tongueamok]

Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep]

Comments

[kingslight]

I'm...glad as well.

[Regis mumbles quietly as he slowly clutches his chest. His heart aches just a little, undoubtedly caused by the mere mention of the scar upon his chest. That's where the sword pierced him, right through his noble heart. A slight whimper of a sigh escapes Regis briefly. He closes his eyes for a time.]

Yes. [The king mutters in a whisper as he opens his eyes.] In time, the Crystal would've drained the last of my life much like it killed my father and others before him.

[He looks to Carlisle in curiosity again. Just what is this healer conjuering? Regis is so intrigued.]

The Crystal is a powerful remnant of Eos' gift unto our world, her eternal blessing in tangible form.

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle's eyes flick to the older man, taking note of his aches elsewhere, his brow knitting in a moment of polite concern. What lingering effects are there from this Crystal, and were they worth the price paid? What if one wasn't capable of using it? Were all from his world born magicians?

So many questions, but he has work to do. He pulls his fingers from the glyph and the light fades, the tea cooling as the ink on the page evaporates away.]

It's easier if there are less layers between the point of contact, so if you don't mind, ah. Baring your leg, that would help.

[He's clearly not keen on asking people to undress in any way, given how many layers he has on himself. He removes the fingerless gloves he's wearing.]

Tell me of your goddess. Why did she bless you with such a powerful and dangerous gift?

/mild headcanon territory, this part is a theory at best

[kingslight]

Ah, of course.

[The suggestion serves as a mild distraction from the agony that haunts Regis. Even though he's been revived, the fickle deities of this realm didn't revive him completely anew. The aches of yesteryear lingers upon his fragile form. He's weaker than ever before physically but his affinity to magic seems strong. Quite the oddity.]

[It only takes Regis a moment to unbuckle his boot and roll up his the right leg of his trousers. There's a old medium size scar that lingers upon his knee, perhaps an injury the king endured a lifetime ago. He used to fight upon the front lines.]

The Starscourge. [Regis explains as he rests his head against the gentle cushion behind him.] It began when Eos herself fell into Darkness.

The Starscourge festered upon her corpse when the Pyreburner found her. Upon his dying breath, Ifrit rescued what was left of our Goddess and carried her to place unknown to mortals at the time; Owlyss Haven. There he laid her upon the pyre and burned her remains. By then, the sickness had spread to the Lord of Fire and he too become infected by this plague he wrought upon us.

[He pauses briefly as he recants this old tale from memory. Certain bits and pieces of this story is skewed because of the many who told it but this is the bulk of what Regis learned in his youth.]

Had it not been for Bahamut the Draconian, King of Dragons; humanity would've never gained the Crystal from Eos' burnt remains. The Crystal was a gift to the House of Lucis because our affinity to magic. We were the ones closest to Eos and the only ones who bathed in her divinty. Bahamut watched over the Lucian Kings through the Heart of the Crystal. The Divine lend us their guidance in the form of Messengers, so we could combat what they couldn't fight...the Starscourge.

Awwww yessss. Lay it on me.

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle examines the scar as he listens, adjusting his glasses. He's seen his fair share of scars, bearing a few himself beneath his religious vestments; however, this is something more akin to what a warrior might bear. Magical wounds are funny like that sometimes, though -- the worst of them lies beneath the skin, preying upon an individual's health in a way that can go undetected by the untrained eye.]

Such a beneficial relationship you have with these deities, where you depend upon one another. My own goddess can be very aloof to those who serve her, but our duty is an important one, as you will see for yourself.

[He scoots his chair closer as he continues his explanation. He has more questions, but work first.]

Just a note -- you're going to feel a slight burning sensation as I channel into you. Perfectly normal, nothing to worry about, though given you have a proclivity for magic, you might be more aware of it than others. It's not often these days that I heal someone with any kind of talent for magic, as most here come from worlds completely devoid of it.

[kingslight]

[A slight laugh escapes Regis but it's a humorless one that beguiles his bitterness.]

The Gods only sought a mortal's aid when they realized they couldn't defeat the Starscourge on their own. They still hold to their loftiness since they were the ones who entrapped our Goddess within the bleakness of night.

[Regis shakes his head slowly in mild disgust. The deities of his world are just as cruel as the ones here. He's starting to realize this truth. His faith in the Divine has always been challenged but more so nowadays.]

Worry not about me, Carlisle. I can handle a little bit of pain.

[tongueamok]

[Less benevolent and more desperate deities, then. The gods of other worlds are so different than his own that he can't help his curiosity, want to learn about them and see how they compare to his goddess. It will wait, though. For now, he nods, and after a moment of careful consideration on exactly where he should place his hands upon the king's knee, he gets to work.

The first sensation Regis might feel is only a slight stinging as Carlisle closes his eyes and expels only the barest amount of his energy, trying to feel for the wound from the inside using his channel alone. It trickles in like the beginnings of stream, the channel bumping against both muscle and bone, rippling back against itself as it finds something amiss. Carlisle's brow knits: there is magical residue there indeed, something that taints the wound just enough that the clergyman can sense it. It could have been left there from a spell gone wrong; it could have become trapped there as magic cycled through the king at some point. However, Carlisle suspects that Regis is right, and that siphoning from that Crystal of his left such a deposit there; it then festered much like a physical wound, drawing in excess energy with every subsequent use of magic, eating away at both it and the kings' physical frame without his ever knowing. It will need to be cleansed.

The stinging intensifies as he prods further, invisible tendrils seeping into Regis' body, faster as they delve ever inward. A normal man would only feel an almost electric stinging, but someone with magical ability is generally more attuned to the sensation of energy flowing through them, and thus, Regis may be able to pick up on the way what energy is pouring into him from Carlisle's palms flows into his chest, down through his limbs as the clergyman uses his own magic to scan for further injuries. Carlisle's brow hardens but, finding nothing particularly of note, the energy recedes, pulling itself back to the wounded knee.

With a quick breath to steady himself, Carlisle works on mending the root of the problem, and what had simply been a fevered pulse amplifies to a white-hot searing, something akin to fire in the veins. Carlisle's fingers curl, his nose wrinkling as he grits his teeth and focuses his channel, using it to flush out the dregs of old magic that prey upon Regis' wound, eating away at him. It takes nearly a full minute, but he finally relents, the decaying magic washed away so that he can continue his work.

With that healed, he redirects his channel again, this time honing in on the scar and what damage lies behind it. Muscles have long-since healed over, but with the right coaxing, such scars can be undone, forced to repair themselves in the correct way. However, it took more out of Carlisle than he thought it would to oust that remnant of magic -- he will do what he can for the aged injury. Getting Regis walking again is within his reach, easily -- if he wants the limb fully mended, Carlisle will have to come back for a second pass at it once he has recovered himself.

But for now, 'get him walking' is the goal, and that is absolutely doable. That fiery searing intensifies again, focusing now on the muscles and bone, old tissues being compelled to rend themselves from their places to move back into the correct ones. As one can expect, that part is probably unpleasant for just about anyone.

Carlisle finally pulls his hands away, gasping, stifling a series of coughs. The scar is still there, as is some of the damaged tissue behind it, but Regis ought to be feeling better than he has in years... well, save for all that burning and pain he just went through to get to that point.]

[kingslight]

[A faint hiss escapes Regis once the stinging intensifies. No stranger to pain and certainly accustomed to agony, Regis could feel the healer's magic seep deep within his flesh in a valiant attempt to draw out the impurities of his wound. It hurts quite a bit. The old king is slightly taken back by the agony and it shows upon his aged face. His brow is knitted together in discomfort and his lips sullen downward into a mighty frown.

The slight jolt of energy that flows into him from Carlisle's hands causes the king to recline some in worry. This is the first time he relied on such foreign magic and Regis is on edge. His mana flares subconsciously in warning to the invading entity that lingers within giving Regis the faintest hint of light around him. His magical aura always been quite white and airy, much like celestial glimmer of the moon. While he knows Carlisle means no harm, Regis is still on edge. He's had one too many attempts at his life not to be wary.

Once the remnant of the Crystal's malady is cleansed from him, Regis drops his guard at last and sighs. A wave of relief rushes through the elderly king once the worst of this session is done. He gives Carlisle a rare smile, a token of his sincere appreciation. However, that quickly changes once the healer starts mending the flesh and bone itself. A sharp hiss of discomfort escapes Regis once he feels every nerve and muscle being meticulously mended into place. He sighs deeply and leans against the cushions of the couch more as he forces his eyes closed.

It hurts that damn much!

Once all is said and done, Regis is jolted out his reprieve when Carlisle starts coughing a little. It's a choking sound that catches Regis off guard. His hand rests upon the healer's shoulder out of worry. While he's ignorant as of how this kind of healing technique works, Regis is worried for Carlisle's health. He knows that healing the wounds of others can be a tad difficult at best.]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle holds up a hand as Regis places one on his shoulder, a gesture to signal that he's all right -- he just needs a moment. When given a brief reprieve from his hacking -- it does indeed sound more on the choking end than a simple tickle in his throat -- he rasps out a few words.]

Try it out. [His fingers curl, and he wonders if he should go for the empty jar, or the tea first.] Couldn't fully repair it at the moment, but— [probably the jar] —I can come back another day, if that is not adequate. Old wounds take a bit more energy to mend.

[kingslight]

[Regis eases his hand off of Carlisle's shoulder hesitantly. It seems that the healer is anything other than "fine" but Regis won't coddle him. He gives the young man a skeptical look before glancing back at his leg.]

The pain is no longer there. [The old king mutters as he rubs his fingers along his knee.] Even for partly healed, I must say I'm somewhat impressed.

[After a few stretches here and there, Regis rolls down his pants leg and attempts to stand. There's no immediate pain or any indication of that awful limp from earlier. For the first timr in a long time, Regis Lucis Caelum stands tall.]

[tongueamok]

[Despite his coughing, Carlisle smiles at that response, reveling in the results of his craft.]

I suppose I'll call that a success, then. I'm frankly surprised you were able to tolerate the wound at all, given what a mess it was.

[He stifles another cough and, despite his earlier inclination, goes for the tea, downing it all in one go. Better to get it into his system and dulling the stiffness that overtakes his joints before the ink starts coming up.]