Setting aside the mug, Neria reached for his arm. Her eyes scanned the cuts carefully. In her eyes, there was no judgment for what he'd done; this sort of work, to Kell, was like breathing. It was necessary to do what he needed to. "I found people," she said softly, her gaze on his injuries. "And I was mapping out the city with my senses. If you're...asking if I found threats, then, no. I don't sense any of the other godlings or anyone so powerful that you need to worry on." It was only her.
Her fingers outlined the newest cut and Neria reached deep within to carefully coax out a tendril of dark, which came to her bidding like faint, dark smoke. But beneath it, strangely, shimmered a faint light - the familiar glow of her natural, magical healing. Which seemed to startle her, as she pulled her hand back and looked at it strangely. "Why--" she murmured, uncertain. Briefly, she touched the branded mark Murphy had given her. It was still there, so how was it possible that she had access to her magic?
Only one way to tell if it was true.
With hardly a gesture, Neria's hand glowed a faint blue-white light, and she went to work on the cuts on his arm. It took two tries to get the magic to work, as all of the godlings had become difficult to heal, but the magic seeped into his skin and knitted it closed. The dark she had summoned remained still, cradling the magic, seemingly soaking in its presence. And, oddly enough, the dark felt no different in that moment than her healing did: warm, comforting, like a balm.
At length, she pulled away. The magic, and the dark, receded. Neria pressed her fingers against the hand that had used that magic, a frown set into her features. "...I thought she took it. I haven't-- I haven't been able to do anything until now."
no subject
Her fingers outlined the newest cut and Neria reached deep within to carefully coax out a tendril of dark, which came to her bidding like faint, dark smoke. But beneath it, strangely, shimmered a faint light - the familiar glow of her natural, magical healing. Which seemed to startle her, as she pulled her hand back and looked at it strangely. "Why--" she murmured, uncertain. Briefly, she touched the branded mark Murphy had given her. It was still there, so how was it possible that she had access to her magic?
Only one way to tell if it was true.
With hardly a gesture, Neria's hand glowed a faint blue-white light, and she went to work on the cuts on his arm. It took two tries to get the magic to work, as all of the godlings had become difficult to heal, but the magic seeped into his skin and knitted it closed. The dark she had summoned remained still, cradling the magic, seemingly soaking in its presence. And, oddly enough, the dark felt no different in that moment than her healing did: warm, comforting, like a balm.
At length, she pulled away. The magic, and the dark, receded. Neria pressed her fingers against the hand that had used that magic, a frown set into her features. "...I thought she took it. I haven't-- I haven't been able to do anything until now."