Not a physical account, no..... But he'd take it. Willingness to mention almost any negative, potentially shameful emotions or weakness like this was a good sign of progress, in Aeleus' books. Dilan wasn't the sort who liked showing vulnerability or baring his heart to anyone, even a trusted friend. He could always ask for clarification, too, if the looks of Dilan's or his reactions didn't give him all the information he needed. Odds were, there was nothing to see at all, and he'd simply ask a few more questions--it had been a dream, after all. But just in case.....
"I wish he would, too..... It is something of a step down, in power and resilience, isn't it? Nobody could have expected you to stand your ground, or win if you did. Do you have any idea why he was hunting you?" In one way, at least. Their magical strength had undoubtedly been at its peak as Nobodies, and their physical toughness and ability to recover from injuries and endure harsh conditions had been leagues better, even if their physical strength hadn't improved. And yet..... and yet! The power they had wielded had been unlocked by the loss of their hearts, as a desperate attempt to fill the void. Their powers had been but a pale and feeble shadow of the true strength of the human heart, and the miraculous feats it was capable of. Cold comfort, perhaps, to one running for his life from a ruthless and implacable foe who held nearly every advantage over him, and might have even been hunting him merely for the sport of it.....
But even so, the fact remained. Their sentimentality and emotions, their irrationality and intuition, their weakness and vulnerability, their flaws, their consciences, their bonds with others..... That was what made them truly strong, even if they also held them back and made them suffer. Their limits and liabilities, their trials and anguish--all of those gave them the seeds of potential strength necessary to transcend them, and become better people in the process.
To his credit, Aeleus didn't gasp or cry out, let alone panic at the sight that was revealed when Dilan lifted his shirt. He didn't make a single sound at all, in fact; for a long beat of silence, Dilan would barely even be able to hear him breathing, as he considered the situation. Now that there was nothing obscuring the shape of his back, it was far easier to see the way the entire upper half of it was swollen, and the colors of raw, irritated skin and enormous bruises were dark and vivid against Dilan's tanned complexion. It really did look like he had been..... well, perhaps not stabbed, or the sheer amount of blood would have revealed itself immediately. But he looked like he might have been severely beaten, perhaps, maybe while curled into a ball or kneeling huddled in the dirt and protecting his head and vital regions, taking the full force of such abuse straight to his back instead. It looks almost like there might be some sort of broken bones pressing unnaturally against his skin, or something surgically implanted under his skin without a trace of stitching or scarring from incisions, or.....
.....Or, perhaps, broken off lance heads buried into his shoulders, where skin and muscle had healed over the stab wounds entirely, without repairing the rest of the damage. It might look like that, if someone had hastily stabilized him with a Cure spell to keep him from bleeding out. But lance shafts were commonly made of tough, tempered wood or metal, designed not to break unless they were subjected to extraordinary amounts of force..... The very thought of what Xaldin would have had to do to Dilan to break off pieces of his lances into him turned Aeleus' stomach. He hadn't even believed that sort of thing was possible--as far as he'd known, their weapons had been all but indestructible. Logically speaking, if he had done so, Dilan's state would be far, far more dire, but.....
But it was best to be sure, for Dilan's sake. If there actually somehow were shattered lance pieces in there, then the best course of action would have to be surgically removing them. That was something Lexaeus didn't care to consider attempting without Vexen at his side, to be honest. Aeleus finally let out a heavy sigh, stepping right up to the edge of the bed. ".....I'm sorry. Please bear with me a moment."
The apology, at least, gave Dilan a moment's warning to potentially brace himself for further pain to come; he might even have been able to see a soft blue-green light flare to life out of the corner of his eye, or feel the tingle of magic in the air as Aeleus cast Cure. It was a slow-burn spell, as Aeleus carefully started probing Dilan's shoulder blades to feel out the shape of anything that might be buried inside them, a gentle warmth radiating through him in slow, steadily controlled waves like slipping into a steaming hot bath. He's always had a natural gift for healing magic--perhaps not to the extent of his ease with earth magic, but it's easily enough to allow him to put a few twists on the standard spells to suit his own needs like this. With any luck, it should help ease the pain of being checked over like this, make some start at repairing whatever damage had been inflicted..... and maybe, if he's lucky, even give him some vague sense of what was wrong, just from feeling the way his magic played out.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2015-07-20 04:18 am (UTC)"I wish he would, too..... It is something of a step down, in power and resilience, isn't it? Nobody could have expected you to stand your ground, or win if you did. Do you have any idea why he was hunting you?" In one way, at least. Their magical strength had undoubtedly been at its peak as Nobodies, and their physical toughness and ability to recover from injuries and endure harsh conditions had been leagues better, even if their physical strength hadn't improved. And yet..... and yet! The power they had wielded had been unlocked by the loss of their hearts, as a desperate attempt to fill the void. Their powers had been but a pale and feeble shadow of the true strength of the human heart, and the miraculous feats it was capable of. Cold comfort, perhaps, to one running for his life from a ruthless and implacable foe who held nearly every advantage over him, and might have even been hunting him merely for the sport of it.....
But even so, the fact remained. Their sentimentality and emotions, their irrationality and intuition, their weakness and vulnerability, their flaws, their consciences, their bonds with others..... That was what made them truly strong, even if they also held them back and made them suffer. Their limits and liabilities, their trials and anguish--all of those gave them the seeds of potential strength necessary to transcend them, and become better people in the process.
To his credit, Aeleus didn't gasp or cry out, let alone panic at the sight that was revealed when Dilan lifted his shirt. He didn't make a single sound at all, in fact; for a long beat of silence, Dilan would barely even be able to hear him breathing, as he considered the situation. Now that there was nothing obscuring the shape of his back, it was far easier to see the way the entire upper half of it was swollen, and the colors of raw, irritated skin and enormous bruises were dark and vivid against Dilan's tanned complexion. It really did look like he had been..... well, perhaps not stabbed, or the sheer amount of blood would have revealed itself immediately. But he looked like he might have been severely beaten, perhaps, maybe while curled into a ball or kneeling huddled in the dirt and protecting his head and vital regions, taking the full force of such abuse straight to his back instead. It looks almost like there might be some sort of broken bones pressing unnaturally against his skin, or something surgically implanted under his skin without a trace of stitching or scarring from incisions, or.....
.....Or, perhaps, broken off lance heads buried into his shoulders, where skin and muscle had healed over the stab wounds entirely, without repairing the rest of the damage. It might look like that, if someone had hastily stabilized him with a Cure spell to keep him from bleeding out. But lance shafts were commonly made of tough, tempered wood or metal, designed not to break unless they were subjected to extraordinary amounts of force..... The very thought of what Xaldin would have had to do to Dilan to break off pieces of his lances into him turned Aeleus' stomach. He hadn't even believed that sort of thing was possible--as far as he'd known, their weapons had been all but indestructible. Logically speaking, if he had done so, Dilan's state would be far, far more dire, but.....
But it was best to be sure, for Dilan's sake. If there actually somehow were shattered lance pieces in there, then the best course of action would have to be surgically removing them. That was something Lexaeus didn't care to consider attempting without Vexen at his side, to be honest. Aeleus finally let out a heavy sigh, stepping right up to the edge of the bed. ".....I'm sorry. Please bear with me a moment."
The apology, at least, gave Dilan a moment's warning to potentially brace himself for further pain to come; he might even have been able to see a soft blue-green light flare to life out of the corner of his eye, or feel the tingle of magic in the air as Aeleus cast Cure. It was a slow-burn spell, as Aeleus carefully started probing Dilan's shoulder blades to feel out the shape of anything that might be buried inside them, a gentle warmth radiating through him in slow, steadily controlled waves like slipping into a steaming hot bath. He's always had a natural gift for healing magic--perhaps not to the extent of his ease with earth magic, but it's easily enough to allow him to put a few twists on the standard spells to suit his own needs like this. With any luck, it should help ease the pain of being checked over like this, make some start at repairing whatever damage had been inflicted..... and maybe, if he's lucky, even give him some vague sense of what was wrong, just from feeling the way his magic played out.