Redheaded Stepchildren

The rocky expanse upon which the trio sat provided little in the way of shelter. It seemed though that the sorcerers had elected not to follow them to this side of the mountain. For at least that much, the young man of ivory skin and ebon hair was glad about as he looked upon his wounded friend with concern. Mystrus hadn't regained consciousness yet. They were close enough to the lifestream to where Nespian had thought he might be able to heal her within it. Second thoughts crossed the back of his mind for reasons he himself was unable or unwilling to explain. He looked down at the blade he had looted from the boy in the skirmish above. True to his word he had not looted it from a corpse. The boy was young enough to realize the error of his ways and turn from his life of crime, so Nespian had let him live. His primary concern at the time had been trying to stop the vagabond and red ribboned woman from hurting Mystrus any further. Nespian continued to stare down at his battle prize unsure of what the words etched upon the blade meant, but sure only that going forward its use would be for far nobler pursuits. He sighed as he set the large blade aside and looked down at the pale form of Mystrus as her companion Visha continued to swirl vigilantly about whispering words to which Nespian had no way of understanding. There was something about the creature he didn't trust. Hell, he wasn't even sure that he trusted Mystrus nor himself these days. 

'How are you today?' Nespian muttered under his breath, placing two fingers to the side of Mystrus' temple. If she were unable to communicate outside of her mind, perhaps she might be able to from within. He didn't even realizing that this time there was no burning sensation upon contact as he set his mind to work finding hers.