The Obligations of Surrender (Blade)
Content Warning:
mention of sucking marrow from bones. Dismissive toward another's beliefs
I weep quite shamefully for longer than I would like to admit before pulling myself back together. It helps though. I feel more stable and settled than I have in millennia, just knowing that she cares and sees me as more than just a tool. By the time I start to settle, my head is in Elevar’s lap with both hands in hers. "Okay. I think I'm good now. Can you um... Help with cleaning me up before Primrose gets back?”
"Of course." Elevar agrees softly, weaving a gentle and soft spell over my upper half. "Schatzi will not allow it to return until we call for them. Through either bond or word. Don't rush. Take your time, Xafra.”
I smile at her, and feel my heart lighten. "I will. I have a lot to record and research and I want to get it right. No more impatient actions or dumb risks.”
"Good." She nods and... seems to settle a bit. Like those words somehow shifted a bigger weight off her shoulders. "Good. Come to me at any time. At any hour if you have questions or such. The tomes I mean to bury you in on both topics are not simple things. And... I'm going to need to send you at least a dozen primers on the basics of things. The foundations of magic, as it is. Because, and believe you me this brings me nothing but sour annoyance to tell you, the texts and nonsense you showed me in your Driftdream are rubbish. Magic doesn't work like that. At all.”
I feel the immediate urge to argue but bite it back and think it through. "Anymore. It did work like that, which means that something changed... My incantations still work. So... It's likely not the magic itself, but... The environment perhaps? The people for certain. I'll gladly take the primers. It might be possible to... Create a template for adapting the old to the new? It's obvious that it's possible, the Garrote itself is similar enough to the Häuslich workings. But slowly. No unnecessary or undisclosed risks... I've kept things from you. You're observant enough to realize this and I will tell you everything. It will just… Take some time. Time that we'll make sure we have.”
"Your secrets are yours to keep, Xafra. Your trust is always welcome but... only when offering it brings you peace or stability or comfort. The obligations I've laid here are things you seem to want, and when they inevitably get too heavy, feel free to stop. Lay down your burdens and ask for mine or Schatzi or Verbess to help. My gift of the long term protections from the Witch Tone is not a conditional thing, whether you decide to even consider the short term solution or not. And honestly even that was a thing spoken out of a tired old gerl's panicked worries about potential dangers in the jungles or possible needs to gather additional tomes from other Groves on the subject. The first is a moot worry and the second can be done by Schatzi and I while you remain here with your gerls.”
My mind roils, fear spikes yet is immediately pacified. Of course she can go where she wills. Once she's cured.
"Mistress, I am open to both of your offers, I do want them, and I don't want you to regret your decision to trust me. So I will be as open as I can be. Can you call Schatzi and Primrose back? I'd like you to bear witness, if you would.”
"Of course." She agrees, and as we stand our Dolls return. Mine's arms laden with the clothes I asked for.
I dress calmly, preparing for what is to come.
Don't know how she'll react. Verbess is probably going to be shocked at the least, which is hilarious, but. Elevar. Well. We'll see.
"Alright, Schatzi, Mistress Elevar, if you would please stand behind me, it would be greatly appreciated. This is going to look odd, but I promise there is no danger.”
They both do. The tether from Elevar is touched with nothing but curiosity. Primrose shuffles nervously, but more from a sort of clueless regard than fear or distrust.
I breathe in, and as I breathe out, I shift into my Warlord form. The one I designed based on Namtar’s, the one I used when murdering Matriarch Arafel.
My jaw cracks apart and my arms split into three on each side as I swell in height from six feet to ten, my legs becoming digitigrade and a crown of quills spiking up through my hair.
I speak in Namtar’s Warlord's Voice, a technique the combat branch of the Hedgemage Arts developed to function similar to the Witch's Tone. His is a deep resonant crackling thing, designed to be amplified by Quills to slide past wards and walls, both magical and physical. It causes me no small amount of dysphoria and sorrow to use, but… it is vital that I do this right.
"Child sculpted in my image and grafted with a gift of my essence, Do you acknowledge our kinship?”
Primrose's mouth opens and closes a few times, only after three tries is she able to whisper very very softly. "Y- yes?"
The bond to Verbess is alight with focus only undermined by a sudden ravenous curiosity. Its own workings struggling to remain still and in harmony with Schatzi's as she wants nothing more than to let its own Quills crack forth and thrum.
As for Elevar... the tether sings with interest. Both in the practical considerations as she would recognize aspects of this body and would seem to measure the merits of the form and its function, but also... seems to quiet at odd intervals. I catch glimmers though. Understand that she's trying hard not to distract me with less than practical desires.
"Primrose, my Kin, do you wish to serve?" I continue, a fierce joy coming through my words, tempered with sufficient control that it does not override the will of any present.
My Doll nods almost ferally. Eyes alight with such pleading as tears well up. "Yes Please! Mistress. It wants nothing more!”
"Then by right of kinship, by right of inheritance, and by right of consent, I claim you as mine. For as long as I exist, you are mine, to be free once more if I should fall to ruin." I switch to my normal voice, still resonant and crackling but significantly less masculine and continue, "Would you like a hug, Primrose?”
It falls into weeping then, nodding harder than before as words fail to bubble up.
I embrace it gently, carefully, and slowly shift back a bit at a time, my jaw and my height first, leaving the arms until after I release my Doll.
"Primrose, Witch Elevar is my Mistress, so I would like you to treat any requests she has as coming from myself. Likewise, her Doll is to be deferred to unless it contradicts standing orders. Is that understood?”
It keeps nodding, arms and fingers clutching desperately. "Yes ma'am.”
"Of course you'd have a Warlord's Form woven in case needs-must." Elevar takes to circling as the shifting settles, trying to catch glances of the details before they fade as she murmurs thoughtfully. "Impressive. With a wonderful balance of function drowning in personality, which many of the brutes lack. Probably quite expensive to maintain, like most of them. But yours seems efficient in that regard. And no wonder you mimicked a Witch Tone so quickly despite never partnering with one, you've had practice with an adjacent concept.”
"After my last wielder, my—" Words catch in my throat as I remember. "—my previous bonded partner, the Warlord Namtar, died, I spent a decade reaping everything I came across, building up strength. I was known as the most feared Warlord in existence at the time, until I finally was strong enough to murder the Matriarch with her own invocation.”
She nods, extends ::Empathy/Sorrow/Approvals:: in Cant. Then... pauses as the tether goes taut and silent. "And afterwards? Did... did you find some manner of peace after you slew the cunt?”
I pause for a long while, forming my words. "No. After doing so, I was hunted down and sealed away. I don't regret my revenge but... There is no peace to be found in violence. It begets itself until you run out of enemies. It is worthwhile, but does not bring the kind of closure I wanted."
A pause, then I can’t help but huff out a laugh, an odd half-coughing thing. "You know, Namtar was a real asshole. One of the dumbest men I've ever known even before he was resheathed. Stubborn, rude, and openly bigoted. He respected me less for being a woman than he did for being an 'object' but... He was mine and I owed it to his memory to avenge him.”
Elevar's reply is her own bitter chuckle followed by the tether filling with pained mirth. "I was... not like that. Before my re-knitting. But was my own flavor of cunt. Didn't even try changing till long after that was settled unfortunately." She nods, looks between myself, my Doll that still clings close, and her own Doll. "But... regardless. We have work to settle into and more than enough time to do this right.”
"Of course. We'll get started right away with properly recording the process I used with Primrose.” I agree.
"Miss Xafra, I'll bring the primers along in a moment, however... In case you were not aware, your quills are still out.” Schatzi reminds me.
I giggle at this sweetheart and retract them. "I wasn't. I'm much less adept with them than your sister. Thank you for letting me know."
I reach out and hug my Mistress close, sliding my wrist once more into her grasp before returning to my spear form.
"Excellent. I'll fetch two journals from my Spire, update them with... new information I've added to my personal Physis copies." Elevar nods and adjusts to cradle my haft in her left arm. {And from there... I think I have a few relevant tomes on Dollcraft you'll want to become familiar with as well. I've not needed them since my last attempts at freeing one of these poor gerls. I'll have Schatzi include them with the Primers.}
Primrose seems to shuffle in confusion but... waits patiently for instructions.
{So. Shall I leave you here with Primrose. Or...} She would intone to me, then turn to Schatzi. "After you and Verbess have delivered the tomes come find me, I need to have a word with you both.”
[Thank you. Yes please. I thought it prudent that you be the one to hand me over to reinforce your position.]
{That's thoughtful of you. But... unnecessary. For either this Doll or me. This one's already devoted her everything to your words.} She smirks, moving to stand before my Doll. "Carry your Mistress well, little one." Then she holds out my iron form while a slight twinge of... something trickles down the tether. Not possessiveness. Not jealousy. Not even mild melancholy or worry. But... another emotion I cannot place quite right before it is smothered.
Primrose, with a sort of eager wide-eyed delight touched with worry, reaches out carefully to hold hands hovering just beneath me. "Yes. Of course. Witch Elevar. But... I'm sorry! I... I don't..." The Doll purses her lips as she hesitates. "How does Mistress like to be carried?"
A pause, then Elevar Cants ::Inquiry/Curiosity:: to me. {I assume you mean to form a link and communicate with your Primrose, but I don't remember asking if you had a preference for how you enjoyed being carried, save probably not having your form touch the dirt.}
[I will do so shortly, yes. My only real preference is vertical and not in the dirt. Been bumped against too many doorframes over the years... Thank you. I'll come see you in a few hours? Once I have some progress started. If that's alright.]
I'm still scared. Worried about being away from her, especially with the implications of her leaving me behind for an extended period of time, but... I need to adapt, adjust, and improve. Be the partner she deserves.
First things first, going to need an earthenware basin to work on crafting a form that is compatible with her signature. Lots of reading to do. Limited resources so shifting will have to be limited to when crafting. Means Primrose will be busy, but. Gotta make sure it takes time for itself as well. See if it has hobbies. Do Dolls even sleep? Something to find out. I. Oh. Oh that's a thought. Perhaps…
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Whenever you want, of course. My Spire will always be open to you." She responds, then gently sets my form into my Dolls hands. Murmuring all my earlier instructions as Primrose nods, eyes locked on my form. Wide in wonder yet focused in dedication. Drinking up my Witch's every word.
As Elevar leaves with Schatzi, I can't help but send a parting remark. [I love you, Mistress Elevar.]
Even though I know I'll be able to reach her the whole time unless one of us enters a warded area, it feels vital that she knows for sure.
"I... Thank you. Xafra, I... Yes. of Course." The tether goes taut and still as she seems to pause and stumble a bit over my words. Then very carefully, Elevar seems to let a touch of tittering worry and raw affections bleed through. "I love you too, dear gerl.”
With a slight twist of thought, I form a connection to Primrose so we can speak directly.
[Alright dear, we have a lot of work ahead of us. We've got to build a bridge of knowledge between the past and the present so we can craft a better future. And you, darling, are instrumental in that.]
She straightens, bond singing with delight and anticipation and such a drowning desire to serve. [Yes Mistress! Thank you! Just instruct and this one will function!]
I spend the next hour going into detail about the exact way I removed the Garrote from her, the reasoning and ontological weight behind the invocation I used, and the utility of sympathetic magic, the basis of Bondsmith Arts, in the technique. By the time Primrose has written it all down, Schatzi has returned once more with a stack of books: Fundamentals of Ousia and Physis, The Odds and Ends of Spinning, Wills and Weavings, The Weed's Penance, The Blight of Groves, To Unmake and Re-Knit, The Twelve Frames, Porcelain and Scales, as well as two of the Mistress' personal journals. The presence of the last two surprise me despite her earlier words. I did not expect her to offer these so freely.
The books seem to broadly fall into a couple categories, Dollcraft, Soul Rot, and magical fundamentals, at least, the modern Witch perspective on them. I avoid the journals for now. As much as I want to know more, I need to focus and figure out the differences, to become a genuinely competent caster instead of a weirdly arbitrary miracle worker as I must seem. I ask Primrose to start slowly flipping through Wills and Weavings, and I learn that the method of imbuing intent has changed, becoming more standardized. Instead of shifting the spell to match the resonance of the caster's intent, the intent itself must be altered to conform to the spell and form a resonance with it.
No wonder. Every single working I have in my library would have to be rewritten and simplified to suit modern casters. There's likely more in the other books, but this is a good start.
I don't move on yet. Instead, with Primrose's help, I reread the book again and take notes on what I've learned. When we’re finally done, hours have passed and the Suns have set.
I reach out to my Mistress and find her deep in slumber once more, so instead I ask Schatzi to let me know when she wakes.
Back to the task at hand
[Primrose, do you need rest?]
"No ma'am, not for a long while! This one can function at near perfect efficiency for four days, and only risks skipping gear-turns or hitching under extreme stress which a pause of thirteen hundred and twenty heartbeats will alleviate." She replies with an odd mix of pride and worry.
How the hell are these Dolls powered? I burn Ousia with my very existence, but they don't even have any to burn… unless they have physical stores that deplete, which means every one of them is doomed to inevitable senescence! Unacceptable! SOULS ARE A RENEWABLE RESOURCE!!! Calm… Calm. We have the Dollcraft books. That should help us discover the truth.
[Excellent, do you have any hobbies?]
[H- Hobbies?] Primrose goes stiff and very quiet for a long time. An anxiety bubbling up until she burst out, [I'm sorry! It won't... It just... We didn't know when the Mistress Yselda would get back and we finished the chores and the others said it would be better to do something rather than stop functioning until she came back up and... and...] Angry tears bubble up. [This one is a bad Doll! Bad thing. Bad tool. Should be broken and punished. Just... just please don't stop using me. Please!]
::Calm:: I start with slight reassurance, followed by direct order. [Primrose. Attend me.]
"Yes Mistress. Whatever you desire! It will serve! Thank you!" She babbles.
[You are mine, and you are good. For the next quarter cycle, you are to indulge in whatever hobbies you may have. If you do not have one, spend the time determining one. My only restrictions on your actions are as follows: 1) you are not to endanger Witch Elevar, her Doll, or yourself. 2) You are to restrict your movements to this Spire and Witch Elevar's Spire. 3) If you require supplies of any sort for your hobbies, Speak with Schatzi, Witch Elevar's Doll and it should be able to accommodate. 4) This is not me dismissing you or punishing you. If you wish to take me with you, engage in your hobby here, or go off on your own, all are equally acceptable.]
A pause, and Primrose murmurs. All a flutter with considerations and confusion and bubbling delight. [I… Yes ma’am.]
[After the quarter cycle, I would enjoy knowing what sort of hobby you enjoyed or decided on, but you do not need to tell me if you don't wish to do so.]
Primrose considers my words and eventually finds a little corner of the Spire to huddle into. She brings a pencil and colored inks that she uses to begin quickly filling a small notebook. Words and strange images and odd twistings. Art without rules or context.
I adore it.
She gladly shows me it all but… struggles to share the meaning behind many of her creations. Some seem to be memories riven and twisted by time and whatever process must break a person's mind upon becoming a Doll, difficult to form upon a page. Others are her memories of Yselda, the images making it clear to me that the sculptures outside are of Yselda herself. And some... some she admits are not hers. But tales told to herself and her secretly favorite other Doll here when they bubbled up the courage to sneak into the sub-basements for 'stories' from a thing she just calls 'old scary' but insists it's nothing but sweet to Dolls that sit to listen to it.
Hmm. Favorite other Doll. Then, when the trial week is over, we'll start with that one next, and give it a week as well. Good to be gradual about it.
After the allotted time passes, I request that she find me an earthenware or metal basin large enough for my humanoid form to fit within.
She returns an hour later, having searched the Spire and asking Schatzi if any of the other ones have what I need. No dice. The Spire lacks any suitable basin, as do the rest. Apparently making something like a bathtub out of ceramics or metal is simply not done anymore with the diminished access to that type of resource after the Moon was broken.
"No, Mistress Xafra. We have root tubs and grown river basins for cleaning and soaking and such, but nothing like what you're describing.”
Honestly... she's working with Primrose on this so....
After I go quiet for a bit to consider other options, Primrose asks "Um... Will those not work?”
[No, unfortunately. Oh. actually. Elevar and Schatzi should be present as well for the explanation. Can you take me over there?]
"Of course!" She happily carries me over, and With my sense of propriety at an all-time high, I have us wait at the entrance for Schatzi to meet us and take up to the upper level study of Elevar’s Spire where my Mistress is working on her own research.
[Mistress, I've come to a slight impasse and wanted to explain the issue to all of you at once as it also touches, I believe on the discordance of magic.]
"Oh?" She leans back with a mug of tea and considers that, tether thrumming with honest curiosity. "Do share.”
[I have a feeling that in general, not much is known about the Divine anymore. Even in my days, it was considered rare information.]
Elevar listens with patient practiced politeness. Tether stiff as she waits for me to finish.
[When I mentioned previously that Witches were Moon-blessed, I was speaking literally, as Witches are the chosen of the Moon Goddess whose name has been lost to time. In turn, Denizens are the chosen of the two Sun gods whose names were stripped from them for their kinslaying. Humans are the chosen of Dämmerung, the land itself that they pulled themselves free of.]
"So... You're saying, and correct me if I am assuming the worst, that we've forgotten to pay our dues to these godthings? The Suns and the Moon and... the dirt beneath our feet?” She murmurs almost flatly.
[No. No. The moon is... probably dead. I hope she is. The alternative seems too cruel a fate for her. And the Suns? Only the most... foolish would ever risk their attention. But Dämmerung loves humans, even those like me that are no longer recognized as such. You mentioned that your resheathing took hundreds of days. The ones I aided in each took hours on average. The divine are not people, if they ever were, and certainly not sapient from what I know, they are forces of nature that can be accessed through ritual magic.]
"Oh good, you had me worried there for a moment." Elevar sighs and seems to relax at my final words, tether still quiet but body seems to calm. "The past people's regard and interpretations for past sources of workings aside, how does this translate into current needs and obstacles? And you said old re-knitting took only hours? That... well I'd be lying if I'm not enthralled by that claim. Would laugh if I found a tome claiming the feat possible without the Dollification process.”
She doesn't get it. That's fine. She will.
[Okay. To put it simply without the religious context, The roots and other plant material that form the basins that are used currently all contain Nomos because as plants they act as containers and being dead, they no longer use it up. Stone, clay, and metal contain no Nomos, Ousia, or Physis, and can be infused with the signature of the caster to amplify the workings within. Resheathing, as I know it, isn't just spellwork but also part alchemy done on the body using a washbasin as a cauldron with certain solutions that speed healing, adaptation, and bring the body closer in line with the soul.]
Elevar's demeanor goes a touch sour, but she nods. "There is a workshop here that should contain a chunk of stone big enough to serve that need once we carve it into shape. As for the healing solutions... I'll see what we can muster. We should get a list together and find where our needs don't match up. Worse case I'll need to make a bit of a trip to a Grove or into the jungles in efforts to bridge that gap.”
[Oh. I make the two main solutions internally. I mostly will need a few ingredients for a general healing mixture]
An eyebrow of her's quirks. "Truly? That... is quite the skill. Oddly one that I find more enthralling that many others you possess. Alchemical synthesis or storage of harvested materials? Both, I'm guessing?”
[Mmhm. It was a bastard of a time developing the organs to produce them. Thankfully I had a lot of Warlord battleform diagrams to work with. I have... always been very passionate about helping others achieve their desired form.]
"I... it's nothing but impressive. What took the best Fleshcrafter of the age hundreds of days to complete on one Half-Knit you've done for countless others." She shakes her head and turns to glance out this chamber's balcony window over the Estate, a huff of a sigh puffing out. Tether finally shifting and let free to thrum with my Witch's multiple feelings. Things of fascination and interest and disparate annoyances. "Apologies... I'm being a cunt. You're sharing what should be fascinating history at the very least, or revelations that should crack my considerations of the lands I walk through at most. And all of it to save me from my own stupid actions."
She looks back to my iron form. “It's only proper that I should offer you the same respect. Include what religious context you think important."
[Thank you. I appreciate you so very much. I'll see you in a bit? I should get back to my research.]
"Whenever you need. I'll get Verbess to help me move the stone up from the old workshop." She agrees, and we each return to our workings.
Days pass, deep in study and research before I reach out to my Mistress with an inquiry [Dearest Witchling, I have an odd request. I need one of your ribs, as well as the location of the nearest deposit of Moonwaste or seawater.]
{I assumed you might need more materials at some point, I'll come by later to let you extract that. As for the Seawater I think there are still a few old infested springs underneath our feet. For the Moonwaste...} She pauses in consideration... {That's tricky. But for different reasons. Some amount is nearby, but bringing the wretched substance into the Estate comes with a few risks. How will it be used...?}
[I've never seen Moonwaste myself, and if this research is to be proper, I need to confirm if the substance in your bones is indeed identical. I do not need any significant amount. A few gallons of Seawater should be enough for me to check, while also allowing me to determine the concentration of Moonwaste in the Seawater, and thus the survivability of water exposure.]
{We can start with the seawater. I know it won't hurt Schatzi and will have her and Verbess bring you what is needed.} Elevar nods.
When Schatzi and Verbess arrive I determine it's time to ask them something. [Schatzi, Verbess, I was wondering if. you'd be interested or willing to work on a project for me.]
Verbess carefully rests the huge, very heavy, chunk down, beginning to click arms and fangs back into Schatzi's preferences while preparing to let her lead the Frame. [This one does not recall any demands following this function. Do you, Sister?]
A pause, and the sister responds. [Not at present. I would be willing to hear you out, Miss Xafra.]
[Well. I was wondering if you two would be willing to coordinate with me to carve this stone into the basin. Like um...] I pause uncertain how to broach the subject. It feels inappropriate despite it being necessary for the future.
[This stone is soft enough for this Frame to slice.] Verbess pauses its adjustments, click clacks arms back into four as talons twist forth. [What shape has you pause in worry, Old Parasite?]
Parasite. Usurper. Disgusting Subhuman Violator of Will. It's right...
[A standard basin, large enough for Mistress Elevar to submerge fully in will be perfect.]
Can't complain. Focus. Work to do.
[That is simple.] Verbess nods, considering the piece. [This stone is not brittle, but soft. If you would like to assist in reweaving the frame’s talons this one could cut at it more efficiently. Make smooth and comfortable, for flesh to settle into.]
[Certainly. I would be glad to assist.]
With the embarrassed realization that Verbess and Primrose have just been silently staring at each other while I talked with my Mistress' Doll, I reach out to Primrose with ::Delight/Satisfaction::
I communicate with both at once, [Primrose, little one, can you hand me over to Verbess for a moment so I can help it with a smidge of reshaping?]
[Yes Mistress!] She replies with a touch of startled confusion but... brimming with trust and devotion despite that.
Verbess takes my form and places it easily into the sheath still hanging from their back, then turns to consider the stone.
[Do you want the talon alteration to be temporary, or an alternate form?]
"Sister, I think a hobby could be good for you as well, yes?" Schatzi nudges.
Verbess twitches at that. [Temporary, It does not find efficient function in carving unliving stone.]
[Understood. Then this working will last a few days, before naturally falling off of your talons.] I reach through my bond to the sisters and gently unweave the barest edge of their form, feeding a slight bit of Ousia into it to sculpt my addition, a set of divaricate serrated lodestone wedges with microfine edges, one on the tip of each talon. With the working, I share the comprehension and feeling of what I'm doing with the sisters to try and increase their own understanding of how to modify their form.
[If you are willing, I'd appreciate your efforts on this basin while not serving the Mistress, so I may continue my own research project. The sooner she can be cured the better.]
[Agreed.] Verbess thrums, twisting small Quills free without damaging the attire they wear. Tittering and seeming to use them to harmonize with the shaping of my work.
The research continues, I study the books, Dictate to Primrose, check on her condition, and finally, finally after two days of Verbess’ carving, the stone tub is done.
I dismiss them with gratitude, and with Primrose's help, get the basin filled partially with sifted soil, free from nomos-infected plant matter, and clean water. I shift and disrobe once more, handing the clothing to Primrose and settle into the basin, beginning the process of expelling the needed ratio of Estrus and Viran while waiting for the delivery of a healing elixir from Elevar.
She arrives and I have an absolutely horrid realization. As I sit naked in the basin of alchemical fluids, I stare up at my Mistress, my Love. "I... need to ask something of you that makes my heart nearly shatter."
She stills in worry, but nods for me to continue.
"I promised to reduce the risk. Can you pick one of the Dolls that is... more disposable, to test contact with the anomalous substance, before I handle it myself? If it is not this moonwaste, it could be fatal, even if it is, due to the prolonged period in your body could make it so and..." I sigh heavily and submerge my head below the surface in shame. Asking another to do what I cannot. Disgusting Witch-like behavior.
She pauses in thought, tether singing with nothing but empathy. "That depends on how it needs to be handled, exactly. My... The old cunt actually has some old tools that might come in handy. Protective gear and an odd contraption in one of the sub-levels I recall her using when handling things such as Moonwaste. Let's see if you think that will work here.”
I do not raise my head, and communicate through our bond instead. [In order to fully cure you without disabling you in a different way, I need to be able to replicate the tissue within your bones. The only way I know how to do that within an acceptable margin of error is to consume some, and it's infected with the anomalous substance. So... I need to confirm that direct exposure is not lethal to my kin, and thus me.]
I pulse ::Sorrow/Self-loathing:: making my emotions apparent.
Elevar chuckles, but then responds with ::Calm/Pride/Intelligence:: {Well I can confirm that for you myself. Verbess has cracked my collarbone and left femur before sucking out some marrow. No problems or side effects.}
I blush bright red under the fluids and start to laugh before realizing that liquids are not good for lungs.