Good Intentions

The Arcanist's Dungeon's are a surprisingly quiet place. A few of the prisoners babble to themselves incomprehensibly, but it's largely silent down here. Today isn't any different, but someone has pulled the chairs and table that were in the last cell out for some reason. Clearing the space inside. There's a soft sound from inside Menel's temporary home and it doesn't take long to determine why. The swordsman has carted everything out of the space of the small cell to make room so that he can do some exercises. He is currently upside down, balanced on his hands as he bends his elbows. Using the force and weight of his whole body to strain the muscles in his arms. There's just /barely/ enough room for this, but Menel is making the most of it.

It has been some time since Seldan was last down here, but there are footsteps down the hall, a steady rhythm that stops not far from the door. Seldan, as before, wears only shirt, trousers, plain leather boots, and steel holy symbol as he pauses in the doorway to watch, silently when he sees what is being done so as not to disturb the man's concentration. His hair has grown a little bit longer, and is now falling unrestrained in his eyes. He pushes it aside from his eyes with one hand, seeming content to wait and not startle the man.

The sound of footsteps draws Menel's attention, and carefully the swordsman drops out of his exercise. He's faintly sweating from exertion, and is lacking the leather armor that he usually wears. Instead he's wearing a blue shirt and the black trousers that are usually hidden by that layer. He immediately grins at the sight of Seldan, grabbing a cloth from the bed that can not be taken out of the room and scrubbing it over his hands before he offers one to the other man. "Seldan! It's been a while." He steps back and wipes down his face and hair before grabbing a pair of stools and carting them into the room; waving at one for Seldan to sit down. "How have you been?"

The look Seldan wears, and the set of tense shoulders, says that things have not been all good, but the warm welcome gets an immediate smile in response, and he finally steps into the room. "Until perhaps a week past, quiet, and yet well enough. Forgive my absence, but perhaps I should come visit more often, I think it unlikely that the ghost shall find me here." Although the concept is expressed with good-natured wit, something in his tone says that he isn't kidding. He takes a seat on the indicated stool, leaning back against the wall, and his shoulders relax some. "You are keeping up, I see. Would you have some of the iron bars the Colosseum uses for its gladiators? They are but plain forged iron, but I assure you, heavy enough."

Menel is an observant man, so his smile wavers just a touch at Seldan's serious mien. Even so he welcomes the other man in and eventually sits down on the other stool he brought into the room. The towel is placed on the bed once more, temporarily. "It's alright. I appreciate that you come to visit at all. I do what I can to keep from going stir crazy. Keeping the body moving is good for the mind - at least in my opinion." He lets out a little amused noise and rolls his shoulders. "I appreciate the offer, but there's not really much room down here for that sort of thing, plus I prefer not to bulk up too much. Weight resistance training can build up just as much muscle as weight-lifting but keeps the muscles more streamlined."

Menel laughs for real now, blue eyes twinkling. "But you probably didn't come all the way down here to chat about exercising. Sorry, I don't have much in the way of conversational topics down here."

"At times do I think that I will find more sanity and peace here than above, Menel." Seldan leans back against the wall, scrubbing at his forehead with one hand in the process of pushing that lock of hair away from his face. He looks - tired. And as if something is bothering him. "A skinless ghost, a living demon gate, a plague, a tainted water supply, and my own errors. I have tales to share, if you care to hear them, but ... I am in need of your help."

Menel leans back on his stool, using the wall as a back for his chair as he listens to Seldan speak. "Sounds like it's busy up there. That's kind of Alexandria for you." The place was constantly plagued with problems, and yet it was home to many. Perhaps that's why it drew adventurous sorts to it. "I'm happy to hear about them. And I'm happy to help. I'd love a chance to do something to be honest. You seem tired though Seldan. Are you doing alright?"

"Well enough. I fear that I slept much of the day yesterday, so did not sleep at all last night, and feel it now. But - it is not me for whom I worry." All trace of smile fades from Seldan's bearing. "-She- caught another one, and held her, returning her to the same place and time. She ... has suffered as you did, I think, though she does not remember all, and is not in good shape." He lets out a breath. "I was hoping that you could help her. Sort her memories, for she has aged by many years in the time she was held, and returned to now."

He pauses for a moment. "But ... doing so may not be easy, for she is of the sith-makar, the lizard people. They ... think differently. Although I have dealt with them ... in truth I feel that I understand little. And ... there is a risk, for Cryosanthia now carries herself as She does. It ... I do not know what was done to her, Menel, or if there is risk in speaking to her," he finishes lamely.

As Seldan becomes more serious, Menel does as well, listening intently to the other man's words as he speaks. His expression grows more and more grim. Then shocked. "You... You found Cryosanthia?" He says the name with familiarity. Shakes his head and looks at Seldan as if he doesn't totally believe the other man. Then frowns. "I never thought I'd see her again. It's been... I wish I knew how long."

Menel's shoulders slump and he touches his forehead. "I don't know if it'd be safe or not but... I have to see her again. All of those who She captured... I owe them Seldan. Particularly Cryosanthia."

Seldan sits up in surprise as Menel recognizes Cryosanthia's name, but he subsides as his brain reminds him that time is a fickle thing when one is dealing with the Ice Queen, as some of those in the know have taken to calling her. He settles back down, simply nodding, guilt settling onto his shoulders. "As do I, Menel. As do I. But ..." He lets out a deep breath, as if dismissing something. "I cannot aid her now by focusing on what was. She lies in the Draco Solis' temple. I will bring her to you. She can walk, and I think that bringing her to you is safest. Is that acceptable?"

Menel seems to consider this for a long moment then nods. "I would be grateful for that Seldan. Here is probably the safest for the both of us, your right." Much as he might like to leave he seems to say without a word. "After the last time... it's just not safe for me to be wandering around. There's got to be some way... but for now."

The swordsman looks at Seldan. "You seem... weighed down Seldan. From what you've said I know there's a lot going on, but you have to take care of yourself if you're going to continue to fight these things." Menel shifts his own weight and looks around the room he's been stuck in for so long.

Seldan simply nods. "Do not over-trouble yourself for me. It has been a bad last few days, and it has been some days since I have slept in my own bed." He manages a smile. "Her capture is in part my fault. I suspected it was her, when she approached all of us. The timing was too good - and it was your tales of what she was doing that told me it might be her. But - I said nothing. She would not heed her own people, and I was ... not certain enough to risk Her wrath if I were wrong. I did not want her to know that I knew her for who she was. I .... should have spoken. If you can help her ...." Slowly, his elbows come to rest on his knees, his face dropping into his palms.

Menel leaned forward, touching Seldan on the shoulder gently. "Don't blame yourself. You'll eat yourself up with guilt." He sounded the voice of someone who knew, someone who tried every day not to feel the weight of guilt that pulled down endlessly. "You feel like you should have said something but... If you had drawn Her out, named Her? She might have killed everyone there. We are lucky She didn't just because you all saw Her. It's not your fault that She took Cryosanthia. It's not."

It takes a few breath before Seldan reacts. He nods after that time, slowly, and draws several deep breaths before sitting back upright, real gratitude in the gaze he turns on Menel. "You have the right of it. We were ... not prepared to face Her. Not as we were. Not then. She and one other had been taken by the plague, for being simple fools. I was but half-armed, and I think few others were armed at all, with wits or weapons." The grind of annoyance lies beneath his words. "That day ... the day when we challenge Her ... is coming, but that was not the day. And ... I cannot aid her now, do I lose myself to recrimination." He lets out a sharp exhale, as one settling the mind by dismissing poisonous thoughts.

The swordsman lets his touch linger a second, then pats Seldan on the shoulder, encouraging the man in a simple way. "You have the right of it now. Soon enough we'll face Her for real, and on that day She'll pay the price for all the blood on Her hands." Menel's gaze is steady and firm. The thought of those that have passed is clearly written on his face. It does not rest easily on his shoulders. "I'll do what I can to help Cryosanthia. That's what we can do for now. I'll take the small victories that we can manage."

That same look, or at least one very much like it, is reflected in Seldan's ice-blue eyes, in the set of the even features. Not only all of those who have passed, but all those who suffer now. "Yes. We will. And, there is one small thing. I have mastered the spell of anchoring that should stop Kol from leaving, does he show himself again." He straightens his shoulders, flexing them experimentally, as one released of a burden if only in some small way. "It may be that She will come to him, do we do so, but ... it is not nothing."

Menel blinks in surprise but then grins. "I don't know anything about magic, but if you can keep him from running around however he pleases that should definitely help you take him down. I'd be careful though, he's stronger than he seems. He has a tendency of... playing with people." The swordsman shudders at the thought. "I don't know that much about him to be honest, but I know he enjoys seeing how far he can push people. What he can make them do. They're a lot alike in that way."

Seldan listens to that, nodding slowly. "Certainly he is not an enemy to be taken lightly, and the trap laid for him must be one that he does not expect, and one that is as calculating as he is, or more." While the tiredness is still very much present in the paladin's bearing, the weight seems to be easing, very, very slowly. "Very well. It is as you say. Begin with the small victories, that they might lead us to greater ones. Would you have me bring Cryosanthia to you, as soon as may be, or shall I entertain you with tales?"

Menel considers this, then nods mostly to himself. "Much as I would love to hear your tales, they can wait until this business is done with Cryosanthia." He looks at the other man with a soft smile. "We'll have time after."

Seldan nods, and rises, and this time, his smile is very, very real. "Thank you, Menel. For helping her - and for helping me. I will go and see if she is awake. I would take you to where she is, but ..." He trails off. "Neither of us would have Kol find either of you again. I shall bring her to you, as soon as I may. And ... another time, I shall share my tales with you." With that, he turns to go.

-End