Cure

"You live," Miriam observed. "Of course," Hollis responded. The other members of the coven leaned forward, intrigued. "You have a cure, then?" Rienne asked, unable to help herself. Hollis nodded, but held his hand up. "It takes a ridiculous amount of energy to get ahead of the damage, stop it, and then repair what could not be prevented," he explained (anticipating the next question and several beyond it). "AND it took two soul shards voluntarily donated from the dying-but-aware, of which there were alarmingly few." Looks were exchanged; there were wide eyes and pursed lips. "But you have a cure?" Silla repeated, needing to hear the answer again. Hollis sighed. "Yes, technically, but it's too fringe to help and I think we all know that - too fringe and too late. Revolution, from the material to the spiritual, must come." Rienne began to weep and the others did not comfort her; tears were sacred and appropriate.