McConn house (DF October 2029 - after Kids left Quiet)

Caramel eyes widened to the size of saucers at how the marks upon Kiara’s back were reacting to the salve their owner had applied. The marks had been healing so well... what had happened to cause them to scar and the blisters return? The witch placed a gentle hand upon the other’s arm in hope that her knowing she had support would help ease perhaps part of the pain.

Pulling a few phials out of her bag, Sveta attempted to mix a new salve much like an artist mixes colors upon a palette. The reason the salve hadn’t worked as thoroughly as she expected eluded her... but she couldn’t tell the McConns that. She was supposed to be a professional Healer – ready and equipped to face almost any magical malady. Yet this completely stumped her. It was definitely Dark Magic that would do such a thing. Svetlana had seen enough of similar potions at Kaminski Manor and in various Sevastyan and Grigoriy spats, but had always steered clear of such things.

The small voice of Rossalyn caught Sveta’s attention, causing her to glance between the young child and Kiara. “I vould like to hope so...” the witch trailed off, uncertain of how to answer such a question honestly. Sure, the physical pain would fade just as it does in most cases. But the emotional pain... while the Russian wanted so much to be able to make that go away as well, she doubted even magic could cure that in either short- or long-term. How does one tell a young child – no, an entire family – something like that? For all of Sveta’s skills, never had she had to even think about delivering such news. Not since medimagic school...

Sveta also hadn’t seen an injury quite like this one before. Sure, she’d seen her fair share of nasty cuts and scrapes, poisonous bites and accidentally-transfigured body parts... but this... this was beyond her skill. ’This is something Vastyan vould know about...’ she mused, focusing solely on mixing the salve so as not to let a sob or a tear escape, lest the family think it were something regarding Kiara rather than Svetlana’s own broken heart...

- - - -

A spectral form manifested beside Ciaran, parallel to Sveta, its hand reaching out to hover near Kiara’s shoulder. He was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that he was dead, even though he hadn’t been afraid to cross that line for the sake of his family. There were strict rules on the other side about returning to loved ones: one could not simply manifest to pop in for a visit or because a loved one called their name out of grief in their passing. It was only allowed during the most desperate of times... and this happened to be one of them. How he longed to see his children, his nieces and nephew, his family and friends all at a whim.

Sevastyan Kaminski had crossed realms into the land of the living, into his familiar form, but as a ghost.

“Kiara...”

- - - -

Svetlana started, nearly spilling the mixed-and-matched salve, at the appearance of a ghost and the familiar voice that issued from it. Carmel eyes were wide as dinner plates in shock. Her breath caught in her throat, unable to believe what she was seeing much less say her brother’s name. Dracovan of all people knew that even saying the name ‘Sevastyan’ or any of its variants had long since been nearly impossible for her. Tears sprung to the witch’s eyes, though it was hard to tell what emotion sparked them. “S...V-vas?” Sveta choked out with a strangled sob, a tear making its way down her cheek.