"Well, I suppose a bit of wishful thinking wouldn't go awry." Castor would take anything he could get at this point. Even if they had steel aplenty, which they didn't, a resolute hand was needed to wield. Now that was even in shorter supply. Castor being counted among such rarities was surely a joke among the gods.

"Oh I've given it thought, more times than I can count. I'd likely been charred crisp dusk scrubbing the decks or chum in the Bay. An honest sailor's life and all. Fair measure of drink would be involved in any case," added the Sworn with a cynical chuckle.

He'd never been one to talk about himself, especially his past. Same could be said for a number of his brethren. Castor'd join the Order later the most but earlier than some. Field Sworn, well, it just wasn't the same. He remembered a life before Anathaeum but didn't much care for it. That wasn't necessarily the same for others.

"And you? You strike me as the swinging branches type."
 
"Hm. I was working to learn to heal. Recognizing various plants by smell and touch since I couldn't see as others. Using my hands to feel the signs of illness and knowing what to give to help counter it. So I imagine that is something that I might have been successful at." Without being here among the Knights, without someone having taken the time to teach her to see in the shroud, her life would have been much different.

There were few skills that could be done so readily without sight. Perhaps assisting a seamstress with sewing. Her mother had always told her that her stitching was nice and neat. She might not have been able to really design anything, to pick fabrics or cut patterns, but a neat, straight stitch was important.

Though if the knights hadn't saved her, brought her in. She likely would have just died in her family's little house after the mudslide. So really the thought process was perhaps a futile exercise in the end.
 
"Better blinded than blinded drunk-no, that's not what I-" the knight held palm to face. "See? this is why the whole knightery business feels lost on me."

The two continued in silence for a moment. "What I was trying to say was that you've got steady bearings. Better than I'd ever had."

Order gave Castor purpose but his days were still dark. The blood just happened to wash off easier, not that he was complaining.

"And now? Would you prefer the apothecary's life to this?"
 
Effie smiled softly as Castor fumbled over his words, struggling to avoid words related to her vision.

"I think you do just fine." She offered. Was Castor as knightly[i/], as he put it, as Helena? Who was really that knightly?

"No. I wouldn't want to be an apothecary. Learning to touch the shroud afforded me sight. Something I would never had gotten as an apothecary, no matter how many people I saved."

Perhaps it was a selfish choice, choosing the magical sight to healing. But she still helped people like this. Still helped keep people safe. Still helped to save. Perhaps just not as traditionally as a healer might.
 
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