Magic is not to be used selfishly. Nevin couldn't help the bitter laugh that fell from his lips at the boy's words. It seemed like the paladin - sorry the 'vagrant' - was one of the lucky ones, one who hadn't been exposed to what the church was really like. Nevin's fingers drove into the wood of his desk, anger rippling through him.
"They say that. They say that, and then if you don't bow down to the Church, you're ostracized, and the target of the next convenient Witch Hunt that the nearest priest wants to organize. They say that, and if you don't join the Church and heal those they want you to heal, then you're a freak, a target. They say that - and if you want to learn to help others and not join them, then you get thrown out of your family and home in the onset of winter." The alchemist's voice came out in a furious hiss. Nevin took a deep, shuddering breath, his body shaking as he turned around, his eyes dark with suppressed anger.
"There is no charge for a former countryman in need - but never, ever use that name to bless me. The Sway is nothing more than those bastards who cost me my family and my home." Nevin strode over to the shelves and began flicking through them. So the boy had food poisoning from bad fish. He could concentrate on the medical ailment, and not think about the chill of winter stinging him from his memories. He could avoid thinking about his father telling him he would cover for only a few days, but only that much and no more.
There. A stomach calming potion. He snatched the thick green bottle from its shelf and slammed it down on the counter in front of the boy. Heavy footsteps carried him back behind the counter and he took in a very, very deep breath, his chest swelling as he tried to calm himself. This, this was a time where he needed someone to distract him. And there was no one, no one but the wandering Paladin.
"That - that medicine. It should help with the lingering nausea, wanderer. It might taste familiar, one of the herbs used is actually native to Salvar and we - we used it in cooking frequently." He shivered as he looked away. Thick Flow. He didn't want to remember anything happy from that cold land - it made the bad ones hurt more.
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