11-18-2016, 03:15 PM
"It could kill you,"
she said bluntly. He had a devil may care attitude, which certainly took the pressure off her, and it wasn't a bad way to approach life. But she wanted him to understand the seriousness - both of what she offered, despite her better judgement, and the potential consequences. She was fresh out of medschool, and not a brain surgeon. Though she did trust in her abilities, and she wouldn't have offered to help if she didn't think she could do something to help.
This time she did lock the door, not simply because she didn't want to get caught, but because it concerned her what such an interruption might do to her concentration. When she returned he'd laid himself back and closed his eyes, so he didn't see the moment Morven closed her own eyes and steeled herself with a breath.
The power lit her like a beacon, spilling confidence and light as she pressed her hand to his head. The threads trickled in gently, slow and steady. Morven's brow furrowed as she settled into the delicate work; much moved on instinct, coaxing the tissue, soothing the irritation. Threads of spiderweb complexity sunk through his skull; such intricate tiny work. Nothing existed beyond the dazzling pattern.
She erred on the side of caution, working with his body rather than forcing it. The pressure eased incrementally, until she felt she had done enough. The results might not last, but it would give him time at least; she was satisfied that his pain would be less and he was unlikely to collapse in the meantime. She moved back, seeking the chair Sage's things had occupied previously, not quite sure how much time had passed. A flick of the power unlocked the door before it winked out entirely. "Do you feel any difference?"
she said bluntly. He had a devil may care attitude, which certainly took the pressure off her, and it wasn't a bad way to approach life. But she wanted him to understand the seriousness - both of what she offered, despite her better judgement, and the potential consequences. She was fresh out of medschool, and not a brain surgeon. Though she did trust in her abilities, and she wouldn't have offered to help if she didn't think she could do something to help.
This time she did lock the door, not simply because she didn't want to get caught, but because it concerned her what such an interruption might do to her concentration. When she returned he'd laid himself back and closed his eyes, so he didn't see the moment Morven closed her own eyes and steeled herself with a breath.
The power lit her like a beacon, spilling confidence and light as she pressed her hand to his head. The threads trickled in gently, slow and steady. Morven's brow furrowed as she settled into the delicate work; much moved on instinct, coaxing the tissue, soothing the irritation. Threads of spiderweb complexity sunk through his skull; such intricate tiny work. Nothing existed beyond the dazzling pattern.
She erred on the side of caution, working with his body rather than forcing it. The pressure eased incrementally, until she felt she had done enough. The results might not last, but it would give him time at least; she was satisfied that his pain would be less and he was unlikely to collapse in the meantime. She moved back, seeking the chair Sage's things had occupied previously, not quite sure how much time had passed. A flick of the power unlocked the door before it winked out entirely. "Do you feel any difference?"
![[Image: Morven-past-life-banner-scaled.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/Morven-past-life-banner-scaled.jpg)