[The weight of the question hangs heavily, much like the moments of silence that pass before Stephen manages a reply. He cannot ignore the figment of hope hinging in the air, as though everyone is holding their breath, waiting for his reply. He doesn’t want to shatter it into disappointment in his first breath, but he doesn’t want to provide them a false solution with misplaced confidence, either.]

Meridians. You’re referring to the pathways in your body that enable the flow of energy?

[Even before he became a sorcerer, the was not unfamiliar with the concept; but then, it had been nothing more than psuedo-science in his eyes. Something to be scoffed at, nothing worth any real research as dictated by his medical schooling. These days, Stephen has widened the keyhole in which he views the universe—as someone he once knew would say it—and it isn’t even close to the ridiculous idea it once was.]

I’m not unfamiliar with the concept. Before I became a sorcerer, I met a man who manipulated magical energy through similar means to help him walk again. I do it, too, when I need to — for my hands.

[He doesn’t linger on that topic longer than necessary. This isn’t about him.]

But the pathways themselves being damaged isn’t something I’ve had to deal with before. That doesn’t mean I can’t try to offer what advice I can, or look into how this world could help you. How were they damaged in the first place?