Bastian smiled softly, weaving a thread of magic connecting the dazed and delirious witch to the little totem in his hand.
"You remembered my name. I’m impressed. The warlocks in my coven don’t exactly speak of me often. I didn’t expect my name to be all that well known in the witch’s coven."
As he rubbed at the totem, it took in some of the poison in the witch’s system, sapping it away and leeching out the effects of the plants she had consumed. She was probably going to be very angry once she felt the effects of what he was doing, but it was better than the alternative. She was close, too close to shutting down her system. And she wasn’t even in a state of mind to know it.
"I’m glad the stars are dancing for you. They’re excellent performers. Show offs as well. But they aren’t dancing for me tonight."
When she asked about the little totem, Bastian shrugged.
"Just a little hoodoo." he continued his ministrations, throwing more and more lines of power at Sun and connecting her to the wooden totem, like a spider weaving a haphazard web.
As she spoke about the dead Nymph, Bastian paused ever so slightly in his ministrations before continuing. He listened to her sorrow and perhaps, out of all the people in Sansoria, understood as no one else could. After all, he had a long history of dealing with the dead.
"You healers," he shook his head, "You care too much. You feel like gods when you save steal a life from Death, but you forget that everything dies. And then it haunts you because you ask yourself why you couldn’t save this one. Out of all the rest, why not this one person? You tried your best, but it wasn’t enough. But Miss Sun," he glanced over at her, tilting his head down to meet her eyes, "Sometimes it’s just their time to go. And it’s not anyone’s fault. And it’s not a burden you should bear."
It was probably the biggest reason why he didn’t choose the healer’s path. He could have made a name for himself out of it, considering his skill and knowledge, but there was always too much pain. Very few of them understood really what it was they were doing. They thought they were saving lives when in actuality, they were just prolonging the inevitable death.
"Consuming herbs to try to feel something is a hollow answer to your question, Miss Sun. The feelings they give you won’t fill that emptiness."
"I don't heal people because I want to, Mr. Egilhard. To be honest, I went through a period during which I fainted at the mere sight of blood. I'm not exactly the most medical person out there. I just...I was a witch for hire, and most of my appointments ended up being the injured and sick, so what could I do? I couldn't just send them away. And now here I am." Sun explained, running her hands through her hair like she always did when she was a tad bit flustered.
"But that's the thing! It wasn't her time to go! That stupid poison...definitely the work of Fallen angels or vampires. She was cheated of her right to live, and it was my responsibility as a healer to give it back to her. I just...personally, it's hard to live with. I see your point, of course...but still. It still hurts."
Sun's dazed little phase seemed to weakening, though. The sky wasn't as bright, and nighttime seemed to be creeping into her vision more and more, engulfing her vision in shadows. The plants were wearing off faster, she assumed. Faster than usual, though. Odd...
"I'm not looking for feelings anymore." Sun laughed without humor yet again, embracing the sarcasm usually tucked away under her naturally sweet demeanor. "I'm just looking for enough of some feeling, any feeling, to keep going. I can't just back out of this war and this job now! My coven, my friends, my allies...I have to help them. Even if the cost is me."
Sun turned to Bastian and hugged herself with her hands, feeling colder by the second and yet too wrapped up in her curiosity to bother. "So, Mr. Egilhard...what would you suggest? Instead of me ruining myself? You are an experienced warlock, are you not? I just want to know whether there's any other way. Please."
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