At Avis' touch, Magnus turned to meet eyes with her. His voice had been strong when he was giving an order, but inside, he was hurting. Tears had welled up, clinging to the corners of his eyes. The light of the flames shimmered off them, making it abundantly clear that the decision was not one he'd made lightly. His home, his shop, and possibly his family had been incinerated, taken from him by the same people who had repeatedly tried to take his life. It was hard, and he was praying that he wouldn't lose them.<br/><br/>Bellant's heroic entry to the home, as well as the proceeding blast of dark power that came from Atisha, pulled his gaze off of Avis and towards the building. The abyssal flames that tore through the air and impacted the house caused an intense reaction in Magnus' talisman. The thing send an intense feeling throughout his being, a warning that darkness had a nearby presence. Normally, he would have put his guard back up and prepared for another fight, but he just barely noticed the glow coming from Atisha. As a faithful Alesian, he had a disposition against the dark and most of its unruly practitioners. At the moment, that opinion was tossed out the window. When the flames died down, deprived of their fuel, he almost immediately made a break for the home again. However, when Atisha fell, he instead rushed to attempt to aid her, diving a kneel next to the unconscious mage.<br/><br/>He could do little for someone unconscious, but just in, he decided to perform a small miracle that would at most, her current condition considered, make waking up a little easier. A basic healing miracle, with no actual wounds to heal, was little more than a small boost to one's energy. It manifested from his palm as a soothing gold glow and a feeling of warmth, lasting for a few seconds as he slowly waved his hand over Atisha. "Thank you," He said to her, not wanting to take her efforts for granted even if she couldn't hear him. A momentary pause followed, and soon, he was back on his feet.<br/><br/>He entered the burned-out husk of a building, taking an instinctual gaze at the inside of the shop section. Wood was burned, glass was shattered. Tapestries reduced to nothing but ash. The metal of the arms and armour had been warped by flame, or blackened by soot. Some of it looked salvageable, but that was the last thing on his mind. He ran past the front entrance and hopped over the counter, sliding across the top and immediately tackling open the remnants of a burned door. It fell off the hinges, slamming into the ground with a thud. He now entered the building's living quarters, where he felt the barrier's presence. The side entrance had also been blocked, as a quick look to the right confirmed. Furniture and nailed planks kept the door sealed.<br/><br/>The door that led to the cellar was his next goal. Continuing his run, he tore through yet another weakened, burned collection of planks. These ones had not been blocked, or if they had, the obstacle was either wiped out during the fire or by Atisha's miracle. A large hole in the wall had resulted from the impact, so it wouldn't surprise him if a couch had been eradicated in its wake. He took a step down the stairs, which were thankfully carved from stone and thus intact, and was met with the sight of the fairly-intact cellar.<br/><br/>In the corner, his mother and father were crouched, gripping each other and a box of belongings tightly. They were surrounded by a white barrier, and when they saw Magnus, it disappeared. The tears that had gathered in Magnus' eyes began to flow freely. Emotions tore through him, relief and happiness. He wasted no time in rushing to the side of his elders and cradling them both tightly. Words were exchanged, mostly ones of solace, but also of heartache. Despite this, Magnus knew they could not remain in the building. Even with the flames gone, the building was weakened. An ashen shell, threatening to collapse at any moment.<br/><br/>"Come on, we have to go!" He said, urging both of his parents away from their corner. He made them move in front of him, and picked up the box they had kept with them. It was the one he'd packed for his journey, and realizing this sent a pang of sorrow through him. They'd taken the time to protect something for his sake, without trying to take anything for themselves? Even more than he already did, Magnus felt like these events had been his own fault, regardless of the fact that he was not the one to blame for it all.<br/><br/>While the way outside was treacherous, ash falling from the ceiling at patternless intervals, the three emerged from the home as quickly as they could. Magnus guided them towards the others, and after putting the box down once more, pulled them both into a long embrace.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Brom's terrifying purrs continued, a low rumble throughout the cat's massive body. Upon being offered the lute, his eyes locked it, and every moment of dangling Jas held it in further engrossed him in it. After a few moments, he gingerly reached forward with open jaws and grabbed the instrument's body, backing up once he had a hold on it. The resulting movement would have invariably freed the instrument from Jas' hand, size difference considered. While it didn't taste immediately pleasing, he was certain it eventually would, and thus took it back into the fountain with him. He dove beneath the surface once more, and after a few seconds, a large chunk of wood floated back up.<br/><br/>Tarkus, meanwhile, allowed Vasma to explain what they had purchased, adding a nod of confirmation once she spoke. "The insect has covered the magical side of our list. I trust him with those things more than I trust myself." The way he spoke of Kamon was not at all derogatory. The use of the word 'insect' was a perhaps unfortunate combination of factors. Jotun tendency to put title before name of those who were not very close, as well as Tarkus' uncreative grasp of the common Teryn language, came together to make very visual and blunt descriptions of those in the party, save for Vasma. She was the only one he actively called by name.<br/><br/>As if on cue, Kamon scurried through the streets towards the group. In the grasp of his lower arms, he carefully held the box of potions, and in both arms, a variety of bags filled with things that could be used to create salves and other such things. He offered them with the closest approximation of a Korris smile, a slightly open mouth with his mandibles turned upward. "I hope these will aid us in our journey," He began, already showing his tendency to speak more than necessary. "The honored merchant gave claim that these could be of use to you." An arm held a particular set of bags towards Vasma, filled with some charms that were used in various druidic rituals, as well as a few more standard scrolls. "I felt that I should offer them."<br/><br/>Tarkus gave the others a slightly odd look, but didn't interrupt his speech. Kamon's descriptiveness was a stark opposite of Tarkus' own speech patterns. Language barriers were an unfortunate part of multicultural adventuring.