I had to get some air. The thought of trying to once again use these prisms in some way. The scar-less spot on Berrodâs arm. To ensure that sword wound I had did not scar took over a moon.
Swift healing left large scars. Left an overabundance somewhere. Like Naldâthal, there was always a trade. The most ideal trade was time generally, less the toll be taken elsewhere. Time to rest, let the aided healing finish in its own.
The idea of applying these crystalsâ energy to heal the Twelveswood felt wrong. Everywhere. The insistence to keep revisiting this idea. It was not a sidewalk to patch up like in the Goblet. This was life. Life does not patch up like that. Deep wounds take time. Or they do not heal.
I wanted to bring up more. Where were the twins. That had been our goal before. Not to take the word of someone no one here trusted and feared for multitudes of reason, directly or indirectly. The gold dust and dozens murdered.
Must need limit more casualties. Berrod was correct, though. Focusing on the items causing the most harm would limit that in the long run.
May they truly be safe and where they want to be.
"Probably gonna have to, with the way this has been goin'."
"I'm not exactly sure of -how- comfortable I am working with Shadow again...wherever the Shadows are, things go from worse to catastrophic."
"They amplified the user's flaws."
"Nothin' like brute forcin' some magic."
"I ain't sayin' anything about killin'. I'm thinkin' it real loudly though."
"Then if all this white rock can be left alone and in a place it cannot harm others, the resource needed is time?"
"A broken clock's right twice a day."
