Ayhteur kneels over Nasch's body. The patient is nearly lifeless, and the doctor is deep in trace. Magic flows invisibly from the druid's grove, from the land into the goblin. The elf is more than a conduit, he is the pilot of it. The spark that starts the first and the will which directs it.
There are no voices, but inside the head of the elf, as he is deep in the magic-commanding trance, a conversation takes place.
[This is the first such conversation I've posted, but I intend to write others if it proves effective]
Zephi: It is time we had a chat, young troll.
Aytheur: I haven't got the time right now, why don't you press your platitudes on me some other time?
Because this is the only time. You would not hear before this now [moment], and you will not be able to act after this now [choice].
Let me guess, the world's fate hangs on this one choice?
You spit upon the truth as you mock it.
He's one stupid goblin that's dying of gangrene.
You already suspect his importance.
Curse you, old man, why do you speak of my thoughts like you know them?
Why do you ask questions I have answered? We are[have been / will be] bound.
Why do you answer in riddles? Just tell me the simple truth.
You assume the truth is something that I know.
Bah! You're useless, leave off!
By healing this goblin, you ruin his future and set upon a course to ruin many more.
Ruin his future? He has no future, he's about to die. What are you talking about?
Every spirit has a future. If he dies, he's a martyr and a hero. You do this to him and he's an abomination.
He'll be alive, that's what I'm told to do. Who cares what kind of magic I have to use?
He'll care. Kliet Nasch will care, and it's his life.
How do you even know that?
That's not the right question. How do I talk to you while you trace?
Fine, if that's the wrong question, how about this one. Why should I trust you? Who are you even?
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