โ - What Isa would see wrought upon his face was worry. Their past, their experiences, none of it held a candle to the painful familiarity of the plight before his eyes. Circumstances remained beyond him, but the sight of emotions drawn into a fury held an alignment with his own. The Berserker, The Rage, here they remain upon a familiar bridge that the wielder of the keyblade found himself bravely stepping forth. Unearthed cobblestone and the dancing flicker of those familiar, wrathful flames wouldnโt deter him from the natural call his heart held on this situation. Any tension knitted into his strained fist was forcibly loosened, all as he drew down onto his knees.
โHey--โ His voice softens, refusing to draw into lie meant to promise stability. Soraโs voice quelled into a focused silence as he allows his hands to reach forward, hovering before Isa as the natural stir of his magic was called upon. Each beat of his heart was another stir of this abundance of energy that molded into the form he needs, igniting a clear, soothing aura that expands harmlessly through the open air until it settles over man in a internal battle all of his own. Allowing his eyes to closer, a foolhardy action to most in this situation, there was a dedication to bring his assistance onto his field.
Known for itโs capabilities of healing ailments, beyond that scope, Sora came to learn of itโs other applications. One in particular serving as a central crux over the long journey that drew towards the horizon and well into the depths of the Keyblade war. This was truly a kind spell, able to give even the most thrashing emotions a solid footing in a normally formless place. This was the opportunity he presented for the other to grasp.
โFocus entirely on this. This feeling.โ