Fantasy A Lifted Curse

[Javax]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

Silence.

Like a shroud, it swept through the halls of the stone keep, blanketing them all with a tension that made them still. A harsh wind tore through the keep, fluttering clothing and hair as it seemed like the very air was being sucked out the room. They could still hear their enemy's cry echoing in their minds, strangled and full of anger and hatred. But where the dark god once stood, now only a block of glittering amber sat, a mote of shadowy flame encased within. Trapped. Imprisoned. Defeated.

Vampyr had been slain.

A collective shaky breath. The coppery tang of blood was heavy on the air. Their allies were injured, some more than others, but this did not prevent them from breaking out in delighted smiles. Mouths were pulled up into toothy grins and some barked out nervous laughter. They couldn't believe it. The evil that had terrorized their land for decades had finally been defeated. Hugs were exchanged, hands found shoulders and backs to pat encouragingly, and healing was already beginning to be doled out. Like a breath of fresh air, it swept through the stone castle and shunted the heaviness that had been weighing on their shoulders.

Devlyn had missed who dealt the final blow. The ritual had completed, and as they all felt Vampyr's essence leave, he could feel something else go with it. It felt as though the air had been torn from his lungs as he gasped. Having opted to stay towards the back, he had a wall he could lean against as he fought his knees from buckling. The staff clattered to the stone floor, temporarily forgotten. His vision blurred, unable to focus. An emptiness filled him, not unlike the time his soul had been taken from him, yet it felt so very different. His life and his soul were similar, and he grew accustomed to not possessing the claim to one of those easily enough. But this? The fire in his veins had been ripped out of him, leaving him cold and empty.

And as the fire was stolen from him, a familiar voice cooed in his mind, A deal is a deal.

He took a deep breath and blinked his eyes a few times as the feeling subsided. His body shook, unusually and unnaturally cold. The pain from his wounds amounted to nothing compared to the emptiness that filled him now. Like a void, it yawned open inside him and left him scrambling backwards to safety. But there was nowhere to go. It swallowed him whole, the abyss gripping him with its chilling fingers and dragging him into this new hell he found himself in. It was no surprise that this was coming. Seriah was a woman of her word—a true arch-devil—but there was nothing he could do to prepare himself for the feeling of desolation that afflicted him now.

A small part of him wanted to believe that this was all a dream—that he hadn't agreed to the Hellhound Whisperer's proposal; that he hadn't sold his soul to the arch-devil; that he hadn't made another soul-damning contract with her that took all the things most important to him. His hand was raised before him before he knew what he was doing. A flick of his wrist and a muttered word—nothing. Maybe he hadn't pronounced the word clearly enough. Another flick of the wrist and the Halfling word, a little clearer now. Still nothing. Again. And again. And again. Not even an ember or a spark. Every last drop had been taken from him. The weight of the realization pressed down on him, and he slid down the wall as his hands fell to his sides.

His magic was gone.

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 21%

Status
Injured | Tired | Defeated

Location
Argynvostholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
SoulHunter
N/A
​

 

[SoulHunter]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

Everything was chaotic. Weapons clanging. Voices shouting the chants for the ritual. People crying in pain. Kereza once had good sight of her friends and family, but she'd lost them in the whirlwind of bodies screaming and crying out in pain. All she knew is that the ritual was still going. The circles of salt were still imbued with magical power that kept Vampyr mostly at bay. And it was mostly complete. All they needed was one final phrase and he would be sealed in amber once more.

Kereza raised a hand to wipe at her mouth, panting as her fingers came away with blood. The iron tang coated her taste buds as her breath came out in shallow hisses. Various wounds covered her body, blood shimmering against the silver shine of her scale mail. Her eyes tracked Vampyr, his humongous form hard to miss even amid the chaos of battle. As the monster met her eyes, she shifted form. The feathers she wore in her hybrid form melted away, forming pale skin once more. Her wings retracted, vanishing into her arms and back. Her throat gave way to a human mouth and human throat. She needed her human throat, capable of speaking properly, to seal him away for good. Once human again, she leveled her spear at the vampire god, setting him as her target.

“Lord of Blood, we bind thee!” she shouted as she marched towards the dark god. Vampyr shrieked, barreling towards her in an attempt to stop her words. His minions, surging at her. With a swing of her spear, she knocked one away. “Thus may your name be forgotten forevermore!” Vampyr was too late. As the last word left her lips, a bright flash filled the clearing around Argynvosholt as lightning crackled. As the brightness settled, all that remained of where Vampyr stood was a block of amber.

A shaky, relieved laugh bubbled out of her throat as she sank to her knees, her spear tip sinking into the dirt in front of her. The enemies around her crumbled to ash and dust, their god no longer imbuing them with power. It was done. Vampyr was sealed away and Strahd could not return. Barovia was saved.

The relief and joy was short lived however as thoughts of survivors raced across her mind. Mother and Father were part of the ritual. There they were, safely within the Magic Circle Kereza had made. Her adopted brother was there too. A quick search found her Izek, injured but still standing as he looked over young Viktor. All the important people around her seemed to still be alive as she sought them out, bringing more relief to her. Slowly, she rose to her feet looking next for her party members. Though injured they seemed okay too, giving each other and themselves potions and healing spells. However, someone was missing.

“Dev?” she called out, a small sense of panic forming in her chest. Not again. Please, no. Not again. If he died again because she couldn’t protect him, she didn’t know what she’d do. “Devlyn?!”

At the sounds of her shouts, Durgan looked up from healing another fighter, his dwarven legs working hard to keep up as Kereza strutted across the battlefield in search of the halfling.

“De-” she started, stopping only once she spotted his small form hunched against a broken wall. Shit. Her feet transitioned into a run before she fell to her knees beside him, reaching for the bag of diamond dust she kept. Seeing Devlyn’s chest still rising and falling, her hands dropped from her belt instead poking and prodding at his clothing as she searched for the wound that caused this. “Where is it Dev? Where does it hurt the most?” A frantic edge formed in her words. Even as she searched and searched for a large wound to heal, silvery green magic twisted from the tips of her fingers into Devlyn’s skin. The smaller wounds closed quickly as Kereza’s magic went to work. She wasn’t going to let him die this time.

Finding nothing major among his wounds, Kereza stopped her prodding. No longer afraid of him suddenly dying on her, she searched his face. His eyes looked empty. Had Vampyr done something to him before he’d been trapped? “Dev?” she inquired softly, not wanting to startle him from the haze he was in.

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 10%

Status
Ouch | Worried | Bleeding

Location
Argynvosholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
Javax
​

 

[Javax]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

It felt as though he were underwater—muffled voices and noises surrounded him, but he couldn't seem to focus on anything. Formless shapes wandered back and forth, speaking in a language he could not understand. Lights flared at times, controlled motes of serenity snaking through the reality that he was struggling to keep a grip on. The world threatened to melt away while he sat there when he felt a tug on his consciousness.

Now it's your turn, Seriah purred sweetly in his mind. I look forward to seeing you again, dear child.

He vaguely felt hands prodding and poking at him—determined, careful, methodical—and a familiar voice drawing him forth. Then a pair of silver eyes swam into focus, and the world rushed in like a tidal wave. Though injured, people were celebrating, tending to one another and getting a head start on sharing their stories. But Devlyn paid them no mind, his attention focusing on the wereraven knelt before him and the tendrils of her magic tending to his wounds.

A pang of regret and jealousy gripped him. Would he ever know the feeling of the energy running through his veins again? Perhaps from other sources, but it just wouldn't be the same. The power passed down from generations now ended with him. He met her gaze. Would she understand—truly? No, she couldn't. She could never understand.

He averted his gaze from Kereza. Instead, he looked down at his hands, scarred and utterly useless. "My magic. It– It's gone," he breathed. The weight of the truth slammed into him again, and he ran his hands through his hair, the need to give them a new purpose overwhelming. "I mean, I knew this was coming, but–" A shuddering breath, the words hitched in his throat as his arms dropped again.

Refusing to meet her gaze, he tilted his head back until it rested against the stone behind him. "I fucked up, Kereza," he murmured, brow furrowed and eyes closed. The stone was cool to the touch, rough and worn from years of weathering. He tried to concentrate on that sensation to ground him in the present while past regrets clawed at him from the shadows. He finally sighed, "I shouldn't have made that damn deal."

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 100%

Status
Tired | Scared

Location
Argynvostholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
SoulHunter
N/A
​

 

[SoulHunter]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

Worry etched itself in lines across her face as Devlyn continued his blank stare at nothing. As far as she could tell, there were no mortal wounds on his body. None that her magic could detect at the very least. But the look in his eyes. She’d seen it before. Not from him but from other wereravens. After their first real battle many of them came out of it in shock. Just staring. Facing the void of whatever had occurred on the field. She was sure many of the people around them wore similar looks. But she’d never seen it on Devlyn.

Slowly, the focus came back in his eyes and she couldn’t help the relieved smile that spread from her mouth. A breath she didn’t know she was holding was released. The tension in her body melding away for the moment. But the worry didn’t go away completely. Not when that peculiar look crossed his face. Something she couldn’t quite put a name on. Was he hurt? Somewhere inside? Something she missed?

She watched as his eyes met hers, before quickly looking away, staring down at his hands. Reaching out, she took his hands in her own as he spoke. The pain was evident in his voice, but she listened without a word. Letting him voice what he was feeling inside first. Her eyes stayed focused on his face, even as he continued to avoid looking at her. As he looked up onwards the sky, she gave his hands a comforting squeeze unsurprised by the rough calluses she felt on the tips of his fingers.

It was only after his last sigh did she remove her hands from his. Reaching up, she cupped either side of his face, using gentle force to make him look at her in the eye. She could only guess a shred of what he might be feeling if what he said was true. If his magic was truly no longer with him, it must be a truly terrible feeling indeed. Such a large part of his self ripped away. She knew he had to have made some kind of deal to come back. She knew it would have been such a large price. One she would have happily made herself to bring him back, but she simply didn’t get there in time. As she looked into his eyes, her own only showed her concern for his well being.

“What deal did you make Dev?” she asked softly. “If you are in any more danger, tell me now.” Her concern for the halfling rippled through her quickly, her demand pouring out before she could offer any sort of comfort to him. Right now this was about Dev, and how he felt. She could figure out if he’s in danger later. “Shit no. That’s not important right now. I mean it is, but fuck.” A quick huff of breath exits her mouth as she quickly sorts through her whirlwind of thoughts. Her eyes refocus on Devlyn, determination to say the right thing now on her face. “You made that deal to come back to us Dev. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to live a little bit longer. Many of us were ready to make a deal to bring you back as well. I’m sorry you had to pay the price of your magic to do so. I cannot begin to comprehend what you are feeling at this moment. But you are more than just your magic Devlyn Whitmond. It is not all that makes you you. Just know, that I-we will not think any less of you for the deal you made or that fact that you cannot do magic anymore.”

Her hands on either side of his cheeks tightened their grip, urging and hoping her words to offer some kind of comfort. She was never good with words but she hoped he’d take heart to some of it.

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 10%

Status
Ouch | Heckin' Worried | Bleeding

Location
Argynvosholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
Javax
​

 

[Javax]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

Her hands were warm. A stark contrast against the chill that had overcome him when yet another fundamental part of his identity was ripped from him as easily as tearing a single sheet from a journal. The arch-devil was dismantling him piece by piece, orchestrating his demise with the finesse of an artist. It felt as though she were unraveling him, like pulling a thread until all that was left of the cloth was a tangled mess for her to fashion into her own likeness. How much more was left of him, he wondered. His name? His memories? His legacy? His life? How much longer until she owned it all?

Kereza's words cut through his fears and anxieties as swiftly as her blade, and he clung desperately to each and every one. They served as his beacon, guiding him out of the abyss he'd fallen into. What ifs continued to murmur at the back of his mind, but Devlyn focused solely on the wereraven's voice, using her presence to ground him in what mattered. A sliver of familiar guilt wormed its way into his heart when she began. His friends were prepared to give up whatever it took to bring him back, and it was a truth that had shaken him ever since. They wouldn't have felt the need to if he hadn't been blinded by his need for power in the first place. They didn't deserve the turmoil he put them through.

And he wanted to believe what she was saying—that his magic wasn't an integral part of him, a key part of what made him Devlyn—but he couldn't expect her to understand. A bloodline of sorcerers spanning near endless generations. Like his father, his grandfather, his grandfather's mother, and countless others before, he carried the raw magical energy in his veins. His father had formed a business from it, refusing the call to adventure that his own forefathers had answered. Devlyn's father had encouraged him to do the same—being the only child of his to bear the same gift—to stay home and away from the dangers of the outside world, but Dev had ignored him and instead went to face the dangers that had killed his grandfather with reckless abandon.

Now he was here: Stuck in a land unfamiliar to him, his soul owned by an arch-devil and his magic stripped from him. He was running out of things he owned.

Finally, blue eyes met silver ones, and his arguments died in his throat. There was something about her look that halted him in his tracks, and it wasn't just because her very presence seemed to make him forget how to breathe. He'd seen her serious before, knew she was passionate when she wanted to be, but never had he seen this mixture of emotions, much less directed at him. Worry, sincerity, candor—he didn't need to be this close to her to see the emotions she so plainly expressed. It was as if she'd painted the very words on her face with the brightest ink she could find. Which made him realize:

She was very, very close.

Heat crawled up his neck. He carefully, gently covered her hands with his and pulled them from his face. "I... Thanks, Kereza." Dev could still feel the heat of her hands on his cheeks. At least, he hoped that was the case. "I appreciate it. I really do."

Feeling rather sheepish, he tried to look anywhere other than her face. A splash of red caught his eye, and he was drawn to the blood that stained her. Brow drawn accompanied by a frown, he said stupidly, "You're hurt."

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 100%

Status
Tired | Scared | Nervous

Location
Argynvostholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
SoulHunter
N/A
​

 

[SoulHunter]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

That unfocused look in his eyes persisted even as she word-vomited at him. She knew that he was listening, taking in each of her words as they flew from her mouth but she couldn’t tell if he was listening. Kereza knew that Devlyn thought her daft and absent-minded but she also read enough of his journal to know that he values her word and opinion well enough. He didn’t even get that mad at her when she returned his journal she’d stolen back to him. Whether it would be enough to penetrate the uncertainty and doubts he now carried within himself was the question. She certainly hoped it did. Even if it was the smallest amount.

She recognized the thoughtful look that crossed his scarred face. It was a relief to know that he was indeed listening to her. The gloom she saw in his face sent a crack spiraling through her chest. The cockiness he once carried about himself was shattered now that he lived without his magic. It will take time, she reassured herself. A very long time. But he’ll see it one day.. For now, she could only wait as he processed. And wait she would do. As long as it would take.

Clarity and combativeness met her the resolute look she carried. A retort was already on her lips, ready to fly before that spark died on his own. A question formed instead but floundered as she acknowledged his sudden focus on her. Melancholy still sat heavy across his features, but her attention turned more on the red flush that was slowly spreading up his neck. The redness was a contrast to his blue eyes making them shine brighter than they normally do against his skin.”And you call me the sapphire,” she muttered under her breath.

It was odd to her to see that flush cross his profile. Was a fever settling in? Did she not cure everything when she was poking and prodding him. She was sure she had. Flushing of the skin surely wasn’t a good sign. For what other reason would cause such a reaction in the halfling?

Waiting for him to say something, anything, Kereza’s focus shifted once more as he grabbed her hands against his cheeks. The heat that once seared her palms faded as it was replaced by the much cooler temperature of his palms. Reflexively, her hands moved to grip his back, holding his two hands before her. She gave them a small squeeze again, unable to stop the usual comforting gestures she reserved for her younger brothers when they were hurt.

At his thanks, her eyes narrowed. She didn’t believe for a second that he took much of it to heart. It wasn’t the time to chastise and convince him otherwise of what he believed to be true. She allowed her face to relax. Time. It will take time, she reminded herself once more.

Seeing his eyes dart around anew, Kereza was ready to drop his hands and force him to look at her again when he noticed the blood. She’d already grown accustomed to it, forgetting about the wounds that still bled freely. She chuckled at his acute observation as her boots crunched in the dirt and gravel so she could take stock of her own injuries as well. Though it was hard to fully check when she was holding onto Devlyn’s hands still.

”Hehe, yeah I’m looking a little rough aren’t I?” she asked. ”Vampyr was a little bitch.” A small groan escaped her as she allowed herself to finally sit, hands still in the air between her and the halfling.

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 10%

Status
Ouch | Tired | Concerned

Location
Argynvosholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
Javax
​

 

[Javax]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

She played off her pain so casually, as if it were a simple nuisance rather than her lifeblood spilling onto the stone and saturating the dirt. Her attention had focused on the others around her before she even considered her own well-being—a characteristic of hers that he had hopelessly come to love. She never even assessed her own wounds until he had mentioned it. Most others would keel over and moan and whine until they received medical attention, but not Kereza. Every last bit of energy went into helping those around her. He wanted to attribute it to adrenaline still coursing through her veins, but he knew there was something else at work.

He wondered if she used every last bit of her magic to help him. Did she have any left to turn back onto herself? Knowing her, probably not. Devlyn wished he knew any sort of healing magic. At least, when he actually had magic. Another pang of regret and self-pity hit him, and he couldn't help the wince that came with it. No, there would be no magic support for him to offer, not for a while. Instead, he suggested, "You should have Durgan look at that."

He met her gaze, a seriousness slowly returning to his demeanor. Now was not the time to worry about his magic—or rather lack thereof. Vampyr had been defeated at last. The amber needed to be sealed away in a safe place, probably within the Amber Temple. The injured surrounded them, some worse than others, and Kereza was among them. She would need to be tended to before they did any sort of traveling. Where would they rest tonight? Would Argynvostholt be safe enough? Did they have enough provisions to last through the night for both their party and the companions they enlisted the aid of?

More importantly: What of the contract that still bound him? Dev still had a task to complete, the last part of the soul-binding contract he'd signed: to free Seriah from her imprisonment. They did not have much time left. If he wanted to have any hope of making it out of Barovia alive, then he needed to uphold his end of the bargain.

Which was not something he wanted to do.

He instinctually went to reach for the rolled parchment in his pocket only to remember his hands were still held within Kereza's. It felt as though his heart leapt into his throat, and the warmth returned to his face. "Um..." The logical part of his brain felt like it short-circuited as his mind struggled to form a coherent thought that wasn't She's close. Very close. And touching me. Very close. It was an odd feeling, something he still hadn't come to terms with. He'd been around women before, especially in his years of mercenary work, but this? Nothing ever came close.

His voice sounded much quieter, meeker than he normally was as his eyes darted between her silver gaze and their hands. "Kereza, you can, uh... let go of my hands now."

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 100%

Status
Tired | Scared | Nervous

Location
Argynvostholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
SoulHunter
N/A
​

 

[SoulHunter]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

Concern for her oozed from Devlyn’s every pore. The halfling before her was a far cry from the halfling that first arrived in Barovia. Seeing how much he’d changed caused a flicker of amusement to dance across her eyes. The Devlyn before her was vastly different from the Devlyn that had first walked into the Blue Water Inn weeks ago. Had it only been a few short weeks? The arrogance he used to carry had certainly disappeared. But she had heard that dying tended to give people a new perspective on life. Coming back with a new deal with a more than likely evil entity probably caused your perspective to change even more.

The idea of Devlyn making another deal with whatever entity it was worried Kereza more than she let on. Would Devlyn make a smarter deal the second time around? Hopefully. Though it was easier for him to be taken advantage of since he fiercely wished to come back. Even with such a disadvantage, Kereza believed he’d find the best possible solution to the problem he was given. He’d always been good about talking his way out of things. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d talk his way out of this one too.

At the mention of Durgan, she searched out the dwarf that followed her over here. He’d busied himself helping other people involved in the fight, helping those far less used to battling such intense foes. She looked back at Devlyn, giving a little shrug, her nose crinkling as she did. ”I’ll be fine. There’s more people out there that need help. Besides, I’m feeling better already!” Though she put a little extra bravado into it, she didn’t lie. Just being able to sit and recover naturally was an immense relief. Plus, she was sure that she had a health potion somewhere in her gear.

Devlyn tugging at her hands pulled her from her train of thought of where the heck did she put that potion? And it was now that she finally took in his expression fully. The flushed cheeks not from some fever settling. The timid tone to his words. The way his eyes darted between hers and their hands. Oh. Oh. Immediately her mind flashed through the past 10 minutes of their conversation. The way she poked and prodded at him. The way she’d closed in on him, her face mere inches from his. How she’d been holding his hands this entire time. She could feel her own embarrassment growing, but she refused to let it show. Instead, a small smirk grew across in the place of flushed cheeks.

”Devlyn. Where has your mind gone while I simply try to comfort and heal you?” she teased, keeping hold of his hands for a moment longer. ”Fine, to preserve your maidenly chastity.” She dropped his hands, choosing to go look for that health potion. It was much easier to hide behind her teasing. Not allow her to feel her own embarrassment of how close they’d been. How careless she’d been, knowing his feelings. Not even wanting to admit that the realization of how close they’d been gave herself a thrill of butterflies that were quickly swallowed by guilt and diffidence.

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 20%

Status
Ouch | Tired | Embarrassed

Location
Argynvosholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
Javax
​

 

[Javax]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

There it was—the teasing. Ever since they had met back in Vallaki, Kereza had proven to be quite the jokester, having taken a particular liking to prodding and poking fun at the halfling. It had become more common ever since she had admitted to reading his journal, including his confession of affection that he had ultimately kept to himself. He had expected things to be awkward between them—and they were for a day or so—but their friendship has remained just as chaotic as it was before. Embarking on secret missions full of risks, lightheartedly insulting and messing with each other... Things felt normal, save for the back-to-back deadly battles and the fact that his soul was still owned by some dark deity.

And that he was now a sorcerer without the part that made him a sorcerer.

What did that make him now? Just some guy? He frowned. He certainly wasn't a sorcerer anymore. Though Kereza seemed to be under the impression that his newfound lack of magical prowess was of no concern to her. It was something that made the weight in his chest not feel as heavy as it could've. Whether she knew it or not, she seemed to have wormed her way into his darkest thoughts and kept the worst ones at bay. Like wolves in the night, they snapped at his heels and tried to trip his resolve, but she, like the spear she wielded, pierced through the ones that dared get too close and swept dangerously to keep the others at arm's length.

And still, as she tried to keep his fears and insecurities away, Kereza found time to tease him. The embarrassment gripped him with a newfound ferocity that left his face warm and his thoughts reeling. "My mind hasn't– You're–" He looked at her for a moment, trying desperately to find a retort that would preserve whatever dignity he might have left, but he knew with her it was useless. Instead, he just sighed. The wolves momentarily forgotten, he met her smirk with a disgruntled pout that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Gods, you're insufferable," Devlyn mumbled.

She began digging through her things for the aforementioned potion, so he was left to his own devices. The halfling looked down at his now-empty hands, once again as cold as the air of the snow-capped mountains—where he had lost his life. The memory came unbidden and relentlessly. The cold sapping the warmth from his bones. The snow and ice pelting his skin. The angered roar of Kiril. The arrows thudding into his shoulder and abdomen. A towering mass suddenly appearing in front of him before he even fell. The sword piercing his chest. Peering up at the victorious look in Rahadin's eyes as the pain washed over him.

Then he was thrown to the ground. He couldn't remember feeling his body bounce off the frozen stones of the bridge. In fact, he couldn't remember much of anything other than the sickening sound of Rahadin's blade scraping against his ribs and the squelch of his flesh and blood as the weapon was removed from his body. The last thing he remembered were his friends looking at him in horror before the darkness overcame him.

Dev found one of his hands idly rubbing at his chest, where the scar sat hidden beneath his clothing. And around it, the mark of the Hellhound Whisperer had made its home. He forced his hand down, instead busying himself with reaching for the staff he'd neglected in his bout of shock.

His fingers wrapped around the cool metal, and where he expected a surge of energy to rush through him at the contact, instead he was met with nothing. His brow furrowed as he laid it across his lap, until the realization hit him. The staff had channeled some of his own innate magic through it to bring its capabilities to life. Now that he had none of his own to provide... He hummed thoughtfully, sadly. "Rather useless now, huh?"

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 100%

Status
Embarrassed | Disturbed | Disappointed

Location
Argynvostholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
SoulHunter
N/A
​

 

[SoulHunter]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

Scrounging through her things, Kereza pretended to look for the potion. Luckily for her, all the things she kept inside made it an easy task. All she had to do was move her little trinkets back and forth and it easily gave the illusion of trying to find something. For good measure she even poked the tip of her tongue through her teeth. Gods it was hard to find this potion.

It was a relief to hear Dev’s complaining. It meant her distraction was working, even if it was meant to hide from her own embarrassment and even if it was only just a little. Losing his magic? She could think not of a fate worse for him than that. He was brilliant with it too. There was no way they would have made it through the battle without his walls of fire and wind to distract Vampyr. But now it was gone. If only she’d been faster in performing her ritual to find his soul. She could have made a deal with the damned archdevil instead and saved him. Her hand ransacking her bag moved with renewed vigor, tossing her trinket about in her flash of irritation.

A quick, quiet breath settled her emotions as she went back to calmly picking through her bag. At this point Devlyn must know that she’s not actually searching, right? She peered through the strands of curls that had fallen in her face, looking once more at the halfling. The far off look was back as he rubbed at his chest. Perhaps he’d received a wound there that still ached despite her healing him? There was nothing she could do to help with that though. That would have to go away with time. Her own hands slowed in her digging as his grip tightened on the staff. Even though she didn’t have his magic capabilities, she could recognize well enough when he was attempting to use it. Yet nothing happened. An ache in her chest formed before he even uttered the words about being useless.

”Dev, you’re not useless,” she said. An earnest edge crept in her voice, her frustrations at her own inability to help him peeking through. She dropped her bag at her side, reaching out to envelope Devlyn into a hug. All her pretense of teasing was gone. She didn’t know how exactly to help make her friend feel better but she’d start simply by being here for him. Words were not going to be helpful at the moment and she’d already tried that. So instead she held him close, trying to pass her feelings on to him through physical touch. How important he was. How much she cared for him. How happy she was to know that he’d survived this final battle.

Kereza held on for a while, knowing that he would be bright red again when she pulled away. But she didn’t realize how much she needed to hold him until she already was. When she did finally pull away, she plastered on one of her usual smiles. ”We should find the others,” she started. ”Let them know that we’re both still alive. Besides, there’s still work to do.” As much as she’d like to let Devlyn feel the loss of his magic, she knew her words rang true. The distraction might prove beneficial for him. Afterall, there were still aspects of his deal that would have to be worked out.

▸ ✵ ◂​

Health: 20%

Status
Ouch | Tired | Worried

Location
Argynvosholt
​

▸ ∞ ◂​

Notes
Javax
​