"So not necessarily common knowledge then." Yuri hums as he ponders that. "Well, maybe I'm not so far behind then."

"Mine among them," Yuri responds, shifting his egg once again, slow and deliberate, so as not to lose hold of it. Once he's done so, he lifts a hand, and a soft sphere of light flickers into being in his palm. "My country's got an academy dedicated to the subject, though I didn't attend."

"It's like most any skill — some people have an aptitude and some don't. For those that don't, it's nothing that can't be achieved with hard work, though what kind of magic you lean toward varies." Some elements or spell types come to a person naturally. Some never do. But being able to use magic to some degree is possible for all.

Yuri releases the spell, energy bounding into the air above them and bursting, showering them with glittering light before vanishing. "That one's a healing spell."

"Cuts, bruises, sometimes worse. I'm not a dedicated healer, but I know my way around. Sometimes field medicine's preferable to a spell though, particularly if you need a specialist." Yuri explains this, feeling the two skillsets fill in gaps for one another. "Both disciplines have their value and applications."

"Oh, all sorts of things. Someone back home used it to make licorice boots, even." Don't ask, Kirk. Or do. Constance is nothing if not creative, and she feels less distant from him, more tangible, when he thinks of the absurd pursuits she's undertaken in pursuit of restoring her noble house. "She also made it rain attack spells across a battlefield, though that was a miscalculation. Spells fall into different categories, but if someone has a mind to tinker, the possibilities are vast."

"I've seen them mix for myself. For instance, understanding how a healing spell influences the body changes the quality of a spell. I understand it forces a normally gradual process to occur rapidly, so if I've the time, I slow it down. As a result, I cause less scars than someone brute forcing it. A guy back home was keen to mix magic and technology as well, seeing how an enemy force effectively married the two." Yuri could safely say magic and science played well enough together in the right hands. "So it's all about the minds involved, and the usual trial and error."

"There were a good handful before, but it seems I'm the last man standing. Of those, only Mercedes had me bested with healing though, if that's your interest." Yuri says this, but the interest is clear. He shifts his weight, turning the thought about in his mind. "Though that being said, there're plenty of books on the subject in Garreg Mach's library."

There'd be even more if he finagles requesting Abyss with its shadow library.

Yuri weighs the words for a moment. Carefully selected as they seem to be, they give him a distinct impression. "I'll help as best I can. My people have only just begun tinkering with ways to use magic and science together, mostly with weapons... In the midst of a war, you understand... But medicine's a cause I can get behind."

At one point in time, Yuri was a terminal case. The plague had ravaged his homeland and very nearly ended him. No doctors would bother, poor as he and his mother were. Had it not been for that old man and that red liquid, Yuri wouldn't be here now. If he can lend that hand to another, it's only natural that he will.

"Oh yeah, I follow," Yuri assures him, because it's true. He does understand, perhaps uniquely so. "I was born the year a plague broke out, and that ravaged my country for years. I'd rather no one suffer for want of care or cure."

He'd seen too many die, and he'd been extremely fortunate to be saved. "What sort of ailment are you looking to remedy?" Years...was it also a plague, rapidly consuming lives, or something that wears on, with more time to treat if only the methods were found?

"Blood, huh..." Funny how, in Yuri's life, blood has been a running theme. Not just because he's grown up having to do some unsavory things, either. He's long held his suspicions as to what the red liquid that saved him really was, then there was that mad cardinal who needed very specific individuals for his blood ritual...

Is it safe here, to bring up that little matter he'd discussed with Seteth? Perhaps he'll circle his way around to it. "Have you got a clear idea of the symptoms? I'd wager you do, after years."

"...So you're the patient." Yuri ventures what he'd deem a safe guess, seeing as the man so pointedly adjusted his goggles. The avoidance of what that diet entails also suggests a certain sensitivity to the matter. It could be deeply personal, distasteful to others, or both.

His world does not have the equivalent of vampires, so the combination of traits is curious, but he can imagine how others might be unnerved. Different scares people. Dimitri's uncanny strength impressed some and dehumanized him to others. Monstrous, they'd say.

"And the diet's a delicate matter, I take it." Yuri doesn't need to prod and pry. If he's working with the man, he'll be told what he requires knowledge of as a matter of practicality. "Do you think it's more an alteration or contamination of the blood, this condition?"

"That's one hell of a complication." An understatement, Yuri knows, but an acknowledgement that it's a terrible outcome. Much experimentation had been done on people in Fódlan, often with ill effects. Some were worse than others, but the cases Yuri knows of can be tied directly to those dark mages who called the lot of his kind beasts. "So it won't do you in so long as you mind your diet, then... Which means the diet's troublesome."

Another understatement, but the man is being cautious. Yuri takes the weight off it as best he can. It doesn't help to judge a man for something he can only manage and is trying to remedy.

"I doubt anyone'd choose to be saddled with a condition like that if they can cure it." Well. There are some lunatics out there with strange tastes who might see some strange benefit to it. "Do you have the resources you need to keep stable, for the time being?"

While they work toward a proper cure, that part matters.