[ The cave that belonged to the mysterious witch Matoya.
Estinien Wyrmblood cursed under his breath as he continued to pull the man whose body leaned against his. He had never wished to see this cave again. The one deal he had sealed to her had been far enough in his mind...until his fellow Temple Knight's life hung in the balance. While not brother by blood, Aymeric de Borel had become a brother in spirit and name. The once archer had saved his life and instilled a deep trust between them, even to the point where Estinien had not been the sort to abandon his brother to a dark fate merely a few years prior.
The dragoon raises his hand to the rock cliff face in front of him. It shimmers, having recognized the lingering magic in him bestowed by the witch of the cave. He glances down at the near delirious man draped over his shoulder, and pulls him further along. ]
Move your feet, Aymeric. I will not allow you to lay as if you were a sack of pototos.
[ The dim lights of the cave shimmer to give an eerie and yet oddly warm effect. The cave ought to be dark and dank, perhaps even cold and lifeless. However, there is a sense of home and hearth within it. One Estinien had encountered shortly before his brother's own curse. With a look above, it would seem the night sky twinkles with how the light shimmers off the ceiling. He had once thought the place oddly magical in a way... until he truly realized his fate with the deal he had struck with her.
Before the threshold that wound enter to the living space of the cave, there stands the witch Matoya herself. Smaller in stature than one might think with the title and legends surrounding her. Petite even. Her two toned gaze looks at the pair of Elezen. The large hat atop her head hides the ears that would betray her own race, and yet instead, merely the tail that stands practically on end can be seen. ]
I have not the patience for any pageantry nor long winded speeches of prices, witch. Whatever is required to save his life is what I will pay.
[ Matoya's gaze narrows and her mouth opens to retort. Yet, at the last moment, she finds the words stolen. Her gaze falls to the man the Azure Dragoon aids in helping. His features are striking, yet, it is the gaze behind the blue eyes that causes the breath to catch in her throat. He is handsome, yes, but his gaze strikes deep into her core. A gaze she cannot help but feel she knows oh so well...
She stands to the side and raises a fingerless leather gloved hand for Estinien to take the man further in. Her gaze never leaves him, feeling herself drawn and pulled to him. Her heart skips a beat, but then a sense of urgency and anxiety fills her. The blood is obvious to tell on the backside, even to the point where it has begun to seep through the chain mail. She can hardly explain it at the moment, but all her mind can conjure is the word "no."
No, no, no, not like this...
Matoya rushes to the man and Estinien's side. She directs him to lay the man on his side so she might assess the wound and damage. While it is difficult to see, she can very much tell by the way his aether fluxes in and out. Her hands raise to hover above the wound ever so slightly. A dragon's claws had dug deep, rendering flesh and muscle. It would take time to heal. Time, she most certainly had, but there was something else...
He moves slightly and she sees it, barely, from the corner of his mouth. A fang.
Vampire.
Her heart sinks, even if she does not fully understand why in that moment. What had happened to him? Why him? The thought makes far from sense, but, the painful beats of her heart gives seems to back up those thoughts. The rim of her large hat shrouds the expression of worry and fear on her face as her trembling fingers raise to the man's face. ]
Stand watch at the entrance and make certain you were not followed, Varlineau. You were not supposed to return until your end of the deal was finished...
[ ...but thank you for bringing him to me.
Matoya waits until she is certain that the footprints of the begrudged dragoon have left. Then, the trembling fingers brush the hair from the other man's face. He is a vampire, but he lives, and the wound is one she can certainly heal. The tips of her fingers move along his skin in a gesture she means to keep hidden.
Then, with both hands moving to his back, and her eyes close. His aether remains and thus she simply needs to pull it in the direction where she might weave it together once more. His muscles first, then the tendons and skins. She hopes he might remain unawares throughout the affair for his own sake. ]
Leave this to me. I will see to it you are back on your feet.
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Estinien Wyrmblood cursed under his breath as he continued to pull the man whose body leaned against his. He had never wished to see this cave again. The one deal he had sealed to her had been far enough in his mind...until his fellow Temple Knight's life hung in the balance. While not brother by blood, Aymeric de Borel had become a brother in spirit and name. The once archer had saved his life and instilled a deep trust between them, even to the point where Estinien had not been the sort to abandon his brother to a dark fate merely a few years prior.
The dragoon raises his hand to the rock cliff face in front of him. It shimmers, having recognized the lingering magic in him bestowed by the witch of the cave. He glances down at the near delirious man draped over his shoulder, and pulls him further along. ]
Move your feet, Aymeric. I will not allow you to lay as if you were a sack of pototos.
[ The dim lights of the cave shimmer to give an eerie and yet oddly warm effect. The cave ought to be dark and dank, perhaps even cold and lifeless. However, there is a sense of home and hearth within it. One Estinien had encountered shortly before his brother's own curse. With a look above, it would seem the night sky twinkles with how the light shimmers off the ceiling. He had once thought the place oddly magical in a way... until he truly realized his fate with the deal he had struck with her.
Before the threshold that wound enter to the living space of the cave, there stands the witch Matoya herself. Smaller in stature than one might think with the title and legends surrounding her. Petite even. Her two toned gaze looks at the pair of Elezen. The large hat atop her head hides the ears that would betray her own race, and yet instead, merely the tail that stands practically on end can be seen. ]
I have not the patience for any pageantry nor long winded speeches of prices, witch. Whatever is required to save his life is what I will pay.
[ Matoya's gaze narrows and her mouth opens to retort. Yet, at the last moment, she finds the words stolen. Her gaze falls to the man the Azure Dragoon aids in helping. His features are striking, yet, it is the gaze behind the blue eyes that causes the breath to catch in her throat. He is handsome, yes, but his gaze strikes deep into her core. A gaze she cannot help but feel she knows oh so well...
She stands to the side and raises a fingerless leather gloved hand for Estinien to take the man further in. Her gaze never leaves him, feeling herself drawn and pulled to him. Her heart skips a beat, but then a sense of urgency and anxiety fills her. The blood is obvious to tell on the backside, even to the point where it has begun to seep through the chain mail. She can hardly explain it at the moment, but all her mind can conjure is the word "no."
No, no, no, not like this...
Matoya rushes to the man and Estinien's side. She directs him to lay the man on his side so she might assess the wound and damage. While it is difficult to see, she can very much tell by the way his aether fluxes in and out. Her hands raise to hover above the wound ever so slightly. A dragon's claws had dug deep, rendering flesh and muscle. It would take time to heal. Time, she most certainly had, but there was something else...
He moves slightly and she sees it, barely, from the corner of his mouth. A fang.
Vampire.
Her heart sinks, even if she does not fully understand why in that moment. What had happened to him? Why him? The thought makes far from sense, but, the painful beats of her heart gives seems to back up those thoughts. The rim of her large hat shrouds the expression of worry and fear on her face as her trembling fingers raise to the man's face. ]
Stand watch at the entrance and make certain you were not followed, Varlineau. You were not supposed to return until your end of the deal was finished...
[ ...but thank you for bringing him to me.
Matoya waits until she is certain that the footprints of the begrudged dragoon have left. Then, the trembling fingers brush the hair from the other man's face. He is a vampire, but he lives, and the wound is one she can certainly heal. The tips of her fingers move along his skin in a gesture she means to keep hidden.
Then, with both hands moving to his back, and her eyes close. His aether remains and thus she simply needs to pull it in the direction where she might weave it together once more. His muscles first, then the tendons and skins. She hopes he might remain unawares throughout the affair for his own sake. ]
Leave this to me. I will see to it you are back on your feet.