'Ok,' he thought. Warren has an idea about pattern in aether which actually means he wouldn't have to go to in depth with that. "I don't see aether, not in the way that everyone else does. For me, aether is vibration and I feel those vibrations with my fingers." He held out his hand, wiggling his fingers a little bit. "Everything has aether that touches it, leaves pattern on it, memories would be the strongest pattern that I can sense, when I'm not wearing gloves." He pulls his hand back, staring at them. "If I don't wear these, I would be awash in those memories and the stronger the emotion attached to the memory the better my brain reads the patterns, and then I'm able to 'see' them."
He didn't look up, not wanting to see the horror that his next statement would bring. "It's not just object either. I can 'see' the memory of people as well." He inhale deeply trying to steady himself. "I didn't know what I was doing was wrong not until sister told me. She put the gloves on me, telling me that I had to keep them on." His ten year old fever mind see what she wasn't telling him. That he had been bad for what he had done. "I...haven't taken them off, since that night...eleven years ago."
His hands tremble, still remembering that aching flash of pain as Eric die, tearing at him. "I found out something else about my aether." He clutch his hand into a fist, like he was trying to hold onto something. "Eric was dying and I almost had him heal. Just needed a little more time so I grab his aether, trying to hold it here but I couldn't get a good grip because of the gloves and his aether was torn away...some of my aether as well." He could still remember feeling his aether bleeding out from the wound, his mind chanting over and over that Eric was dead.
"But his death gave me something to work with on Howl. I could use my aether to hold his steady while the surgery was done, except that the gloves wouldn't let me get a tight enough hold on him. If he died on the table, it would have wound me, maybe even kill me a little while later." He reach for his glove, as if he was about to remove it. "I thought that I could hold his aether better. There problems with that thought, the least being that I would be that if Howl die then I would die instantly as well."
"The least..." Sam said, and John turn to find his friend was white as a sheet. "What would have been worst then death?"
"Worst, I would have been too lost in Howl's memories to realize what was going on around me," he said. "That meant that I wouldn't have been any help to him at all."
He didn't look up, not wanting to see the horror that his next statement would bring. "It's not just object either. I can 'see' the memory of people as well." He inhale deeply trying to steady himself. "I didn't know what I was doing was wrong not until sister told me. She put the gloves on me, telling me that I had to keep them on." His ten year old fever mind see what she wasn't telling him. That he had been bad for what he had done. "I...haven't taken them off, since that night...eleven years ago."
His hands tremble, still remembering that aching flash of pain as Eric die, tearing at him. "I found out something else about my aether." He clutch his hand into a fist, like he was trying to hold onto something. "Eric was dying and I almost had him heal. Just needed a little more time so I grab his aether, trying to hold it here but I couldn't get a good grip because of the gloves and his aether was torn away...some of my aether as well." He could still remember feeling his aether bleeding out from the wound, his mind chanting over and over that Eric was dead.
"But his death gave me something to work with on Howl. I could use my aether to hold his steady while the surgery was done, except that the gloves wouldn't let me get a tight enough hold on him. If he died on the table, it would have wound me, maybe even kill me a little while later." He reach for his glove, as if he was about to remove it. "I thought that I could hold his aether better. There problems with that thought, the least being that I would be that if Howl die then I would die instantly as well."
"The least..." Sam said, and John turn to find his friend was white as a sheet. "What would have been worst then death?"
"Worst, I would have been too lost in Howl's memories to realize what was going on around me," he said. "That meant that I wouldn't have been any help to him at all."
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