...Eh, people'll be able to choose for themselves if potential ownership conflicts is worth healing.

"I'm one of the sick," he says, voice a bit flat.

"I need to know what the disease is like - symptoms, how fast it attacks - and I need a source of blood and fine ash. Or coarse ash ground up or something. I brought some of both but need what I have to get home."

"I can get you those. Livestock work?"

"Needs to be a mammal. And fresh."

"How much blood?"

"How many are sick over how much area?"

"Dozens, in a few clustered buildings. We've been quarantining. I don't think it's in outlying areas."

"I'm used to working in sheep. I can do that many people with three fresh sheep without killing the sheep."

"Do goats work?"

"Sure, they're mammals."

"We have some goats, then."

"I need them hobbled so they can't kick me for cutting them, and a clear surface to work on, and a bucket for the blood."

"Right."

He leads the way over to the goat pens, explaining that he found a magic user who can cure the disease but needs a non-lethal amount of goat blood to the person tending the goats. This seems to set her ill at ease, and she whispers something with Esulri - but they're allowed at the goats, and the girl helps them separate out a few healthier goats and get them secured while Esulri gets a bucket.

When they've found him ashes, and told him symptoms, he starts drawing. Ash first, then he bleeds the goats and slowly shuffles on his knees around the shapes he made, painting quickly and efficiently. When he's done, he starts chanting. If the translator is still in use anyone attending to it will hear that he's going on about destroying the infection, burning it out, making it cease to exist, etcetera. There is an un-flash, darkness radiating for an eyeblink for several meters around his workspace.

"That won't get everyone up and about immediately," he cautions. "But nobody new will get it and sick people should start getting better within the day."

"Thanks," Esulri says, sounding - tense and kind of exhausted, really.

Also: Cor's now loosely aware of a buzzing beneath his skin, an odd, restless energy; the vague locations of several dozen... Sources? Of further buzzing; and that those several dozen sources are far more deeply connected to someone a long ways away.

"Uh, is this a good time to ask why I might now be.... buzzing?"

"...Magic? Feels like that?"

"Mine doesn't."

"Excess energy is - buzzy, I guess. Here."

"I had not explained this part yet because it seemed like everyone was reasonably distracted by the disease and it would have been bad if I'd caught it anyway, but, uh, I'm from another universe? My planet is collapsing and I need a place to evacuate to? Magic there is... as you saw. And not this buzzy thing. Please explain the buzzy thing."

" - Everything makes magic. People the most. It's - energy. It does stuff. Random, if it's not controlled. The amount one person makes is too little to control, but if you have a lot it's easier. You draw magic from anything you have a claim on. Changing stuff is a big claim. Almost everything is already claimed by someone, but sometimes who's claiming something can be shifted. Everyone here knows that."

"And now I have... some kind of 'claim' on all the infected people's energy?"

"Probably?"

"Can I... give it back to them or something?"

"Uh. Equal claims on each other cancel out... Heard a rumor of an overlord who allows emigration so there's maybe an easier way to just - reject someone or something..."