Snippet #1690885

Sly shook his head. "I know that I am not the Savior...but I know who she is. She gave part of her life source to heal my wound." He motioned to his semi-transformed arm. "Is it possible that, in doing so, a portion of her power was given to me? Granted, it was but a drop..." He looked to his arm, flicking the wrist as the hand caught aflame with unholy fire. "...but I could not do this before." He shook his head, putting out the fire with a fist-clench. "I suppose it is the only answer..."

He pondered for a moment. "But...what do you mean by 'the Consort'?" He knew he had heard the word before, but could not give a definition to it. He looked to his arm again as the tiny wound sealed shut, taking much more time than Zanetta, but was still an amazing feat to man. He was filled with many questions, seeing as the old woman was somewhat of a sage, but dared not hassle her with too many at once. To do so would be unwise.