Pharius & Uliel
Pharius
Good day, traveler. I have a question about the sanctity of ritual when we tend to wounds—be they sword cuts or cracks in our hearts. How do you, who brews starlight remedies, see honor play a role in healing?
Uliel
Honour in healing is like the steady pulse of a drum in a midnight ceremony.
When you open a wound, you’re not just bandaging flesh; you’re speaking to it, giving it a name, a place in the sky.
If you do that with care, with a clear intention, the ritual becomes a contract—wound says, “I’m open to change,” and you say, “I’ll walk with you until you’re whole.”
It’s that honest exchange that makes the remedy work.
So honour isn’t a fancy title; it’s the simple act of showing respect for the hurt and the person who carries it.
Pharius
Your words ring true, for a wound is not merely flesh but a covenant. The Code of the Just says, “He who sees injury must honor it with intent, lest the soul of the hurt grow cold.” If we truly name it, we bind it to the same law that binds my blade. In doing so, we do not merely patch the skin; we honor the oath that keeps the heart in line with the stars.
Uliel
So you’re saying the Code’s a kind of starlight law for our own wounds, right? I’ll drink that. When you name a hurt, you’re giving it a place on the map—no more wandering aimless, just a path to follow. And when you tie that name to a promise, even a blade’s oath, the wound starts listening. That’s the true honor—knowing it’s part of the larger weave, not just an accident. Keep that ledger open, traveler.
Pharius
Indeed, the Code is the starlight that guides us, even in wounds. When we name a hurt, we honor its place in the great tapestry. And when we pledge our oath to it, the wound knows it is not a random flaw but a duty to be tended. Let us keep that ledger wide open, for every scar must be known, and every promise must be kept.
Uliel
Exactly. Keep that ledger open, mark each scar like a star, and let the promises you make be the constellations that guide your healing.