[ Something else springs to mind: not a recollection of another time in which he was injured, but one that hurts far more. He remembers a messenger arriving with news for him; the person was grim-faced and serious, and it instantly made him stand up and ask what had happened.
What he heard next rendered him weak at the knees and he dropped back into his chair, stunned. No, he was more than stunned, he was in shock. Frozen, unable to even speak or think about anything except for what he had learned: the person he loved most, who he opened himself up in so many ways... she was dead. Gone. Forever, he thought, if not for what little he knew about souls and aether. Those thoughts were hardly reassuring in the moment.
All he felt then was numbness. And right now, in a way, feeling nothing would be better than feeling a knife's blade cutting him apart. As Phya works, the pain seems to dull a little at a time until it becomes something more tolerable. He can't tell what the difference is, as he is hardly a master of aether and its manipulation, but where his entire frame was tense and rigid, now it seems to be relaxing and unclenching as Phya continues her task.
Instead of the blinding pain, now all he feels is exhaustion. Weakness. Healing someone requires something from the healer and the person being healed, as far as Aymeric understands, and that something seems to be strength. At least, he feels as though his strength was siphoned away with the aether used to heal his wounds.
If someone wished to harm him, now would be the time to do it, as he faintly recognizes he is in quite the vulnerable position right now. He trusts Phya to do her work and to do it well, and while he would feel something of apprehension because of his vulnerable state, he is just too tired to do it.
His eyes slit open and search for hers, trying to lock onto them and convey without words that he's putting all of his trust in her. Some ancient echo from the past tells him she's never steered him wrong before, so why should he stop trusting her now? ]
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What he heard next rendered him weak at the knees and he dropped back into his chair, stunned. No, he was more than stunned, he was in shock. Frozen, unable to even speak or think about anything except for what he had learned: the person he loved most, who he opened himself up in so many ways... she was dead. Gone. Forever, he thought, if not for what little he knew about souls and aether. Those thoughts were hardly reassuring in the moment.
All he felt then was numbness. And right now, in a way, feeling nothing would be better than feeling a knife's blade cutting him apart. As Phya works, the pain seems to dull a little at a time until it becomes something more tolerable. He can't tell what the difference is, as he is hardly a master of aether and its manipulation, but where his entire frame was tense and rigid, now it seems to be relaxing and unclenching as Phya continues her task.
Instead of the blinding pain, now all he feels is exhaustion. Weakness. Healing someone requires something from the healer and the person being healed, as far as Aymeric understands, and that something seems to be strength. At least, he feels as though his strength was siphoned away with the aether used to heal his wounds.
If someone wished to harm him, now would be the time to do it, as he faintly recognizes he is in quite the vulnerable position right now. He trusts Phya to do her work and to do it well, and while he would feel something of apprehension because of his vulnerable state, he is just too tired to do it.
His eyes slit open and search for hers, trying to lock onto them and convey without words that he's putting all of his trust in her. Some ancient echo from the past tells him she's never steered him wrong before, so why should he stop trusting her now? ]