The walk back to the Mist through Lower La Noscea seemed longer than usual. Jancis kept a slow pace, but a pace nonetheless. It was a new kind of practice to try to keep such healing abilities quiet and subtle that it took a lot out of the conjurer.
But it had been a party with the intent to make Lady Leanne happy, so making a large deal would undo all the hard work Sir Gegenji and everyone else put in to accomplishing that.
Sir Krosse. Seemed like nearly every time Jancis saw that man there was something paining him. Some injury, some distress, some kind of training that left the man walking about in more discomfort than he'd ever admit to. This night had been the worse she had seen; fractures, sprains, cuts, deep bruises, swelling... it was a wonder the man could stand let alone walk as if he was about to eat cake with a good friend after a happy day of dancing and comfort. She admired his conviction and strength, admired that he was always there for Leanne, and as much as Jancis tried to avoid using so much outside of dire situations, he proved worth the trouble.
Her head pounded. She was exhausted. Others were still there lingering at the party.
Sir Gegenji had such initiative to bring people together all for the sake of Leanne. He had called the lady bard his sister, sharing things of his family and wanting to know more about her own. His value of life was high, very high, Jancis had seen few who held such rever for it as this young man. It equated even to her own and she hopefully valued him as much in return.
The thought made her smile. And Leanne was smiling; thank Menphina for that sight. Strangely, Jancis felt very akin to the miqo'te lady and her pain, the empathy was strong. Yet, the conjurer was luckier than the bard. In a small pathetic way, love was taken by an outside force, instead of changing and dying all together from within. The beauty and sincere songs Lady Leanne created were so fitting for her. Jancis only hoped that the poem was in some small way mirror to the lady, to remind her of the beauty within that never dwindled or faded.
Arriving back to her room, Jancis disrobed, laying in her fluffy floor bed. A box adorned with small red rubies carefully set aside. The box itself was a gift. "Have fun opening that." she was told, but surely it was already enough. She could keep the many lovely colorful stones and seashells she'd gathered in it.
But what awaited inside was breath-taking. A scarf, thin and soft and silky of deep red that matched the rubies outside. It had gathered in the box as it was moved around and stored. Snippets of the conversation she overheard came to mind. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she felt the faint aura coming from it. The warmth that was not her own. Pulling her arms tightly around her, the combination of many occurrences were coming together. She felt cared for. Violet eyes. A warm smile that had been long since vanished from memory.
Soon she was overcome with slumber, falling into a blissful sleep.
"I hear you with more than my ears."
But it had been a party with the intent to make Lady Leanne happy, so making a large deal would undo all the hard work Sir Gegenji and everyone else put in to accomplishing that.
Sir Krosse. Seemed like nearly every time Jancis saw that man there was something paining him. Some injury, some distress, some kind of training that left the man walking about in more discomfort than he'd ever admit to. This night had been the worse she had seen; fractures, sprains, cuts, deep bruises, swelling... it was a wonder the man could stand let alone walk as if he was about to eat cake with a good friend after a happy day of dancing and comfort. She admired his conviction and strength, admired that he was always there for Leanne, and as much as Jancis tried to avoid using so much outside of dire situations, he proved worth the trouble.
Her head pounded. She was exhausted. Others were still there lingering at the party.
Sir Gegenji had such initiative to bring people together all for the sake of Leanne. He had called the lady bard his sister, sharing things of his family and wanting to know more about her own. His value of life was high, very high, Jancis had seen few who held such rever for it as this young man. It equated even to her own and she hopefully valued him as much in return.
The thought made her smile. And Leanne was smiling; thank Menphina for that sight. Strangely, Jancis felt very akin to the miqo'te lady and her pain, the empathy was strong. Yet, the conjurer was luckier than the bard. In a small pathetic way, love was taken by an outside force, instead of changing and dying all together from within. The beauty and sincere songs Lady Leanne created were so fitting for her. Jancis only hoped that the poem was in some small way mirror to the lady, to remind her of the beauty within that never dwindled or faded.
Arriving back to her room, Jancis disrobed, laying in her fluffy floor bed. A box adorned with small red rubies carefully set aside. The box itself was a gift. "Have fun opening that." she was told, but surely it was already enough. She could keep the many lovely colorful stones and seashells she'd gathered in it.
But what awaited inside was breath-taking. A scarf, thin and soft and silky of deep red that matched the rubies outside. It had gathered in the box as it was moved around and stored. Snippets of the conversation she overheard came to mind. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she felt the faint aura coming from it. The warmth that was not her own. Pulling her arms tightly around her, the combination of many occurrences were coming together. She felt cared for. Violet eyes. A warm smile that had been long since vanished from memory.
Soon she was overcome with slumber, falling into a blissful sleep.
"I hear you with more than my ears."
![[Image: bsw2pI1.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/bsw2pI1.jpg)
![[Image: hpThOka.png]](http://i.imgur.com/hpThOka.png)
