The magic spread over him, tingling, strange and almost intimate the way it curled into his flesh, knitting him back together. He could feel the growth of it back together, and itching like a freshly scabbed over wound. It was different than the magic of Korvosa, gentler, guiding his body back to healing rather than forcing it.

"Ah," Symon's breath puffed past his lips, remembering, "I remember now." Asra had spoken of him in the past, the friend of his that had been used by the man, Lucio. His breath slowly trickles out, his eyes settling shut.

"You've been talking to Lyr, haven't you?" He lets a touch of amusement curl into his voice. Been listening to his tales, have you?