[ Well, all right then. She steps forward and puts a hand on his flesh and blood shoulder, frowning.

After a moment, her hand pulses with magic. It feels cool, like stepping into a lake, but not unpleasantly so. Kettara was never a great healer, but she knows enough to send her magic searching, to find where the nerves connect and the veins flow and search out what makes the body power. Her teacher called it the Spirit of Life, the thing that powers all living creatures, but there is always more in the world; greater power, greater corruption.

In the areas where there is pain, she increases blood flow and encourages the body to begin healing. At the very least, she can ease some of the strain.

Kettara is quiet for a long time, concentrating. After a while, she pulls her hand back. ]

There is something in you that has changed your body, but it's not magic, or at least not a kind I know. Your heart has stopped and been restarted several times. I do not think this body was taken from another, or created out of nothing. You are not a Death Knight, for what it's worth.

I'm sorry. I'm not a healer. I can't tell you much more.