Some Things Are Better Kept Within

Seldan has already made his way out into the snow, closing the door quietly behind him, and has paused in the road to pull the hood of his cloak back up. He murmurs an arcane phrase and touches the left shoulder of the cloak, which promptly begins to glow with a golden-silver light by which the snowy road can more clearly be seen.

Ezil is quick after Seldan, closing the door behind himself and jogging a brief pace to keep up. "Seldan. Did you not hear?" he muses, his pace trying to match the other man once he catches up. It's that glow that catches his eye, his thoughts and words forgotten as he takes a moment to look Seldan up and down, a question there, but unspoken.

"Mm? Forgive me, I did not catch." Seldan turns, eyebrows lifting in question. The glow pinned to the left shoulder of his cloak is simple enough - a mana-light such as many in the city, but a skill not normally one that paladins possess. Such lights are more often the province of wizards and other arcane casters. "How might I be of service?"

By the light shed by the cloak, one might see that it is actually two cloaks, a silken one beneath a sturdier traveller's cloak, but he does not appear to be fully outfitted for the road such as Ezil will have seen him before.

"Seldan, I offered my company. What business are you on about?" The Tsuran asks in his blunt way. "I needed reprieve from the talk and dalliance of Mikilos and the White-One. You look..." Ezil's words catching as a smirk splays on his features. "You look in thought." those clearly not his original choice.

"Oh. I had thought to return to the village where the Frostmantle's ghost was first found," Seldan answers. Now that he is out of the shop, he seems much more at ease and certain. "I understand the desire to leave. I did not in truth know whether the sith desired my company as well, and as I do not know her well, I decided caution the safer choice." There's more he isn't saying.

"The Guild is unlikely to know of the Frostmantles' doings in the area, and very likely did not ask questions no matter how odd it seemed. Not asking questions of its customers is typical of the Guild. I wished to learn more of the man to whom they were contracted, and simple villagers are a great deal more likely to talk than either the Guild or the mercenaries it hired."

With a wave of his hand, Ezil shakes his head. "Cryosanthia is a good friend. She is... more curious than other Sith-Makar." noting a bit of difference in her as he keeps his eyes on Seldan.

"The Guild needs to ask more of them, Seldan. I have noticed how much goes unspoken, and at times it causes others to suffer. This Frostmantle only being the current issue."

"I do not doubt that. Few are as friendly to softskins, as they call them, as I have noted her to be. Still, I do not wish to offer offense where none is intended, and it is true that I should be on my way. I would not have the ghost - or those it stalks - continue to suffer. Will you walk with me?" Seldan gestures to the path down the mountain towards the Temple District.

"You are not wrong. I once took a job that was offered to the Guild under false pretenses, by a very old and shrewd man who offered us a trick, to teach us of Yukia. The Guild was not pleased to learn of the deception, but has asked no questions. Still, were I to seek to force the Guild into acting, it would take far longer than simply learning the truth for myself and confronting the Guild with it, once Morv Blayton's soul has returned to the Grey Lady's Halls where it belongs."

"Of course. This matter concerns us both. I will accompany you." Ezil's sigh coming as he walks with Seldan and lets him set the pace. "I know not what to think of the Guild, but it seems necessary, but.... also flawed." his focus shifting for but a moment. "She is hard to offend, but I know what one tells her, Svarshan and the others will soon no. I fault her not, but that is how it is."

Seldan frowns immediately at the last observation, all trace of smile disappearing from bearing as well as lips. "Even so? A good thing to know. I owe the sith-makar my life and more, but there are things I would not have them know. Come, I must gather my gear on my way out. My rooms are not far." He sets off at a good pace northwards, towards Sage Orum's Plaza and the various magical guilds.

Ezil follows in silence for a time, the words he spoke up seeming to weigh as only when they are near gathering the other man's gear does he speak. "They are not a bad people, but there are things I have learned that I keep to myself." then a small laugh follows with a question. "You don't seem like a man of secrets, Seldan. This surprises me."

"No, they are not, for all that not all of them wish to associate with such as you and I." Seldan approaches a particular building among the residences in the square, and makes his way to a door, where he inserts a key into a lock and turns it with a whispered word. The door swings open to reveal a relatively small apartment, brightly decorated after the Tsuran fashion, but with furnishings more closely resembling the ornate Myrrish styles. It is an odd amalgamation, but the Elunan says nothing further until the door has closed behind them both. "I do not lightly keep secrets, no, unless such would trouble or hurt. So it is in this case."

He pulls from beneath the cushions of one of the overstuffed sofas in the main room several pieces of what is clearly plate mail and its trappings, only light, and seeming to quietly glow like moonlight in the glow from his cloak-shoulder. He also removes a small pack, a hat, and several pieces of jewelry, setting them aside. "Might I ask some assistance with the armor?"

Ezil nods as he moves to give that aid, taking his time to see it fastened right. "I won't ask your secrets, but.... that is not the worst stance to take." admitting this as he continues. "It's not a bad stance at all."

The armor pieces are exceptionally well made, and incredibly light and easy to work with, and Seldan himself cooperative as he fastens what he can, leaving to Ezil only the straps and buckles that he cannot manage himself. The rest of the trappings follow, a belt, a headband, the robe going back over the armor when it is completed. A complex set of gear, but he seems accustomed to it, and it is the hat that he picks up and holds between his hands, eyeing it with an air that is a complex set of emotions. "I do not begrudge the asking," he answers quietly. An invitation, if Ezil wants to know.

Ezil looks up from where he was adjusting the bit of plate that guards the shin, nodding his head, and standing to give the other paladin a critical glance. "I will ask, but can also share." his tone passive, simply stating a fact as his Tsuran nature doesn't like a one-sided deal. "What kind of secrets does Seldan Padaryn keep?" smirking then as he seems happy with how the armor fits. "Though... I will say I can't wait till I have armor as nice as this." joking on a different topic..

Seldan smiles at the jocular tone, though it does not reach his eyes. "Yes, I think it is best that you know," he says, waiting until everything is settled and flexing experimentally. "You have my thanks," he adds with a nod, adjusting the open robe on his shoulders and tying it across his chest, over the armor. "I speak not to frighten you, or in hopes of extracting secrets from you, but that you might understand why it is that I would have nothing asked of Master Mithralla, while he is ill. I do not know that even he understands this fully."

He examines the hat once more, then looks out the window, and stuffs it unceremoniously in the pack. "I, too, contracted the plague, and I have Svarshan and the people of Mictlan to thank for their strength and faith in curing me of it. I would have none know, that the desperate not descend on them in search of a cure that is more likely to kill them than aid them. Nearly did it kill me, and there can be no doubt that what was done would kill most within the city. But ... for a cure done in such a way ... such cures do permanent damage to those cured. They bear ... scars. I would not have Svarshan know that this is so, but I think it is the amount of magic applied that causes the scarring. Master Mithralla may suffer similar, if he continues to use too much magic."

Ezil is quiet for a long moment, his mirth gone from his face while he takes a moment to look away and think on those words. A soft sigh is let loose when he decides to speak, giving a nod of his head. "I had heard the plague can leave scars, but... I did not not know the extent." waving a hand as he paces a few steps while still in thought, and soon letting fingers rest on his chin. "I knew the creature inside him can grow with magic. I.... what are we really talking about here? How badly does this scarring happen?"

"Some among his kin in Silvermoon have animal heads," Seldan answers, peering inside the small haversack, nodding satisfaction after a moment. The gesture is distracted, though. "Others may have black eyes. Rumor speaks of one who glows in the dark. I know another to bleed pitch black after such a cure." He lets that hang for a moment, before continuing. "You will see mine, do you find me on a sunny day. I turn the color of blackest night beneath the sun's rays." Given the man's alabaster skin and far coloring, that is probably incredibly jarring and a little creepy to look at. "I do not go openly by day, unless I know the weather to be foul, for then am I safe enough. I ... would not unduly frighten those who do not understand."

Ezil raises a brow, listening and opening his mouth to speak. It doesn't happen, his words not coming while he goes back into his thoughts. It seems he is taking his time, and it takes a while to find his words, taking his hand from his chin and then offering a shrug. "I understand the secrecy, but anyone with half a mind should at least take a moment to listen if it is found out." something in his tone bringing mirth, and offering a soft smile. "The path of the All-Friend has taught me to not judge anything by looks, and that even the smallest of gobbo is in need of our respect and diligence when needing aid."

"I don't know what to say to all of that, but I know it doesn't sway me one way or the other. If this is what the plague causes, so be it. Understanding will come with time. Telmentar preaches of acceptance, no matter what one is." The Tsuran still openly puzzling over something as a question never seems to leave his lips, but rests in his glance.

All the while that he explained this, Seldan had not looked at Ezil, and he still doesn't now, his head bowed. Yes, even discussing this is still uncomfortable, despite his willingness to do so. When he finally does look up, his gaze is direct. "People are frightened by this plague, Ezil, and with good reason. It is well-intentioned magic turned to the service of evil, although it itself is not evil. But ... I see a question in your eyes. Speak openly. I will not refuse you."

"Like the Shard Tower. Not made for evil, but it's purpose twisted." Ezil's sigh coming as he shakes his head. "I should fear it, but I don't Seldan. I grew up near the Sea of Time. Is Malik afraid? He grew up with the same tales, and stories I did. Our people have faced this kind of dread and unknown horror since we were forced to roam."

"My question is... as a man who is blessed like I? Why do you fear it so much? The world changes. It gets hurt. It heals. It is the never ending cycle. Fear makes us weak, and that is the Faring Tales meaning. To guide us. Many of our kin have walked the cursed roads, and often choose the doors that no one dares touch."

"Fear is perhaps a strong word, although few share your wisdom, Sentinel. Say rather ... that I am sworn to oppose it, as I oppose all magics that are turned to the harm and destruction of man. Eluna bids me do so, and willingly do I comply." Seldan's gaze is steady and open. "The plague is not a pleasant thing, nor is it easily cured, and its effects are ... unpleasant as well as a hindrance. The other option for a cure - is to strike a deal with Eclavdran's minions, for they know its cure. Given that choice, such a scar is a price small indeed." His lips tug upward into a smile. "If you would know, my own mother is also stricken, and I fight for her as well."

"I just don't see what you mean." Ezil's smile returning as he slaps the shoulder of Seldan with a laugh. "I help all those in need that I come across. I fight for no one person, and left all behind. I chose the door of nothing, Seldan. I must make use of my life as I can, and I am determined to keep at it until I can no longer." his path an odd one, and he offers little explanation of the door he speaks of. "I am not guaranteed a tomorrow, but I will march forward even if it is my last day. I live not for myself, and haven't since I was a child." his glance falling away then with a shrug. "You could say that Ezil Alrain has been dead for years. The All-Friend is what took his place."

"That being said, Telmentar brought me to Alexandria, and I find it in dark times. I will do all I can for its people, but.... I think you have mistaken something in me." sadness, something in his glance seems to cause a sigh. "We will see your mother cured, and order restored." changing topics.

"Truly and with all of my being do I pray that you never find out what I mean." Seldan takes the slap in good part, but does not return it, and his smile is absent. "But enough of such talk. I am hale, and I continue to fight, and that is enough. Let us be on our way." He straps on his swordbelt, slings the cloak around his shoulders, and hefts the small haversack onto his back.

Ezil nods once, checking his own gear for a moment as Seldan finishes getting himself ready. "I talk too much." he muses, pulling his cloak tight as whatever was on his mind seems to be pushed aside. "I'll share my secret with you sometime, and maybe it will help you understand. For now, we will work on the troubles of Alexandria, and your family. That is what's important."

A voice at Seldan's left hip pipes up, an older, slightly nasal woman's voice. "I don't think he means it in quite that way, Seldan." The tone is gentle.

"No, but perhaps he is right, and I have become selfish," Seldan answers, looking down at the sword on his hip. "Father would not approve." He breathes in, then out, then nods to Ezil. "Forgive me my moment of weakness."

The sword just sighs. "We'll talk about this later."

Ezil snorts. "I agree with the sword." quickly stated as he gives Seldan a surprised glance. "You have all of my respect, Seldan. I don't see you as selfish. I see you as compassionate and caring. I see you as a better man than me." offering an apologetic look, and thumbing his nose before he speaks again. "The doors showed me my future. The evil I am capable of... and it is why I can't live for myself. I would make very poor decisions." moving to open the door, and flashing a half-smile. "The Sea showed me the darkness I could carry. So I fight it. I fight it every day."

Seldan directs a -look- down at the sword, and shakes his head, but moves to follow, fishing the key from a pouch on his belt. "But you chose not to work evil, and it is that that is more important, more than any others. We are all capable of both good and evil. My brother Emerind...."

A gruff male tone and about three other voices pipe up at once from his left hip. "Don't even mention that name." "Seldan..." "Stop right there." Apparently none of the crowd in that sword wants to hear what Seldan was about to say, and he subsides with a sigh. "You choose the path of Light, and that is the most important thing," he finishes. "And thus, we stand on the same road.

"I choose to walk under the stars. I wouldn't call it the path of light." Ezil muses, splitting hairs. It's the sword that gets his glance, seeming to nod to it's words. "A heavy heart is not a sign of weakness. We can't help what happened to others, not even our kin." nodding his head to himself and shifting to hook thumbs between his belts. "So... skin dark as night? Your entire body? I saw a Mul, her arm was much the same. As if it was made of onyx." anything to try and lift the heaviness the other man feels. "I thought she had a prosthetic... might of been wrong."

"Do not mistake the path that leads beneath the night sky for the path of darkness." Seldan waits for Ezil to precede him outside, but sounds calm enough. He even smiles slightly, the smile reaches pale blue eyes. "True that a thing may be shadowed and unclear, but it is not evil for the being so, merely a mystery. The path of the Seeress is a more veiled and complex one than that of the Draco Solis or Telmentar, but no less the path of good."

"As for that one ... better it be left unmentioned. The story is long and draws anger, even now. Yet do I understand your meaning." He pauses at the question, though. "Even so, save one thing. Down my back I bear a tattoo, a working of magic that Malik did for me to stabilize me when I was ill. Its meaning is complex, but the plague's mark does not touch it, I am told. A blessing, to be sure."

"The dark man under the sun." Ezil says with a bit of mirth. "Sounds like a tale of the Faring Folk." musing as he moves outside, his hands shifting to sit still under his cloak.

"I take your meaning too, Seldan. We both walk different paths, but... at least we can walk beside one another at times like these." his mirth restored as he waits for the man on the other side of the door. "You make up for my soft heart, and I make up for something.... we'll figure that out when it comes." joking as he leaves that heavy topic for another day.