[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/zQXUPoA.png[/img]
[sub][@VitaVitaAR][@Conscripts][@PigeonOfAstora][@Raineh Daze][/sub][/center]

A healer, but one without aptitude. Born under the full moon, and thus having one's life molded by that expectation.

Did one need aptitude? Did one need to walk upon a singular path? Flickers of memories, some recent, some old, accompanied by flashes of remembered pains. It was no magic, but Serenity had learned how to heal alongside harm, how to disinfect and sew up her wounds, how to concoct salves and set broken bones. All for herself, and not anything close to the efficacy of a true master of the arts.

Still, healing.

[b]"You are beloved."[/b] That much was certain, judging by the nature of the Danbalions. A noble family with few military achievements, one that, when she broke, allowed her to mend. [b]"And you'll be beautiful, in time."[/b]

For what Saint wasn't, clad thusly in the blessings of Mayon?

But with Steffen stepping in, with Lein arriving alongside a foreigner from a faraway land, with Fanilly herself relaxing her stance, it looked as if any anticipation for combat was going to be stalled. So questions, then, could be left to be answered. Her knuckles cracked, her swordhand tightening, before she let out a small sigh.

[b]"Erich was not the source,"[/b] Serenity spoke, her shield lowering just enough so that her face could be seen. [b]"The Knight-Witch was. I presume we've all shared the experience of being swallowed alive by Volkstraad as well? Except, of course, our guest from a faraway land."[/b]