Helplessness

It is perhaps an hour or two after they left that Seldan, his right pauldron under one arm and cloak pulled fully over his shoulders, approaches the steps to the Temple of Daeus, taking the mighty stairs two at a time, his entire bearing the one he gets when he is serious and focused. He's had time to think on the walk back to the temple - about what had happened, the vision that they had seen in a place utterly without magic, and about how he was going to explain this all to Sunguard Zeke without the shaman tearing his throat out. A mighty revelation to be sure, and possibly more than one.

So it is that by the time he reaches the top of the Temple stairs, he is composed enough. "I need to speak with Sunguard Zeke, if he has the time."

With a nod Seldan is led further into the temple to the room that Cryosanthia was convalescing in. A brief knock has the blue-scaled sith opening the door, urging Seldan into the room, with his green eyes already seeking the female who is.. not with him. The room hasn't changed since Seldan last saw it, though there is tea on and ready to be poured. Out of pure politeness Zeke steps back, glancing out into the hallway as if perhaps Cryosanthia might be behind Seldan some distance before realizing that Seldan is utterly alone. The door closes then and Zeke turns a curious gaze on the man. "Peasssce on your nessst Ssseldan. ...Where issss Cryosssanthia?"

Perhaps more alarming is the smell on the Silver Guard, scents that only the most sensitive of humans might catch, and scents that are nigh-impossible for one of heightened senses to ignore. Blood. No, not hers. Zeke would know the scent of her blood far too well, and while the scent of her is on him, the scent of her blood is not. Human blood aplenty. "Peace upon your nest, Sunguard. She is safe and unharmed, but I would have her return with you. There was - an incident, and I would have her with those best known to her, in this time and place."

Zeke does his best not to /scent/ Seldan, that would be rude, but the smell of blood is one that is impossible to ignore and the sith can not help the slight leaning toward Seldan. The slightly more obvious breath. Worry makes his tail flick-flicker behind him as he takes in the man more carefully. His missing pauldron, or more accurately the one that is tucked under his arm rather than in its rightful place. Cryosanthia's scent is /all/ over him. It smells... odd. Old enough that he can't properly tell what she was feeling but enough to know that they were in very close contact.

"Come in, sssit down." Zeke motions toward the stools in the room but doesn't move toward the tea pot as he usually would if he were welcoming a guest. He is too worried. "Isss Cryossanthia well? Thisss one... doess not underssstand why ssshe isss not with you. Essspecially if you want for her to be."

"She," and here, Seldan pauses for words. He does not ask about tea, he is not exactly minded towards social niceties - or food and drink. Although humans do not have the same cues as sith-makar, but there is definite agitation there from her side, and likely from his as well. "Regathers herself." He settles onto a stool, heavily. "They do know one another, Zeke. Intimately, for it is she who raised him from a boy within that tower. Her ancestors know of it, and it was shown to me, to all of us, I think."

He goes on, choosing his words carefully. "She ... is not in full control of herself, Zeke. She snapped ... grew claws ... and sought to tear out his throat." Less carefully does he shoulder the cloak out of the way of the stool, to inadvertently reveal bloodied skin where shirt, padding, and armor should be. Not all of it, only a glimpse, and he seems unaware. "She near killed him," he adds, shaking a little. "And yet ... am I not angry, for she was in anguish. It was not she who controlled her body, but another, and that other moved with a precision that near defeated me. The guards hold her, but will not hold her for long, as she is deemed to have done no wrong."

At first, Zeke's worry fades somewhat. He moves toward a stool of his own and sits down with great care. His tail gives a soft wag behind him, and though sith-makar expressions are hard to read, it's clear how interested he is to hear what Seldan has to say about the relationship between this man whom Seldan took Cryosanthia to see and the sith-makar herself.

Until Seldan's tone changes and he explains that Cryosanthia is not in control of her own body. He ceases to move and if there were another sith-makar in the room... he would have been giving away the tumlous feelings that consume him suddenly. Even Seldan can see the vast sorrow that suddenly slides over Zeke. He stops moving. Hangs on to every word until his eyes fall on the wound that is on Seldan's shoulder and he moves gently toward the man. "Sssshe... ssshe attacked you?"

Zeke's claw moves toward Seldan's wounded shoulder slowly, but does not actually come within range to touch. He would never. But the desire to see the wound is clear and he meets the man's gaze suddenly with sadness burdening his green eyes. "Ssshe attacked you both?" His tone gives him away more than anything, it's a voice near to the tears that sith-makar can not weep.

"Her goal was him, and struck me when I sought to stop her." Seldan heavily admits the truth, raising his eyes to watch Zeke's reaction. "Mine is not serious, and I have tended to him. He rests, and will be well." The request in Zeke's demeanor is clear enough, and he pushes the cloak off of his shoulder entirely. It looks as if he's torn the entire sleeve off, beneath the armor, and a set of fairly deep, fresh clawmarks, mar the flesh of collarbone and shoulder, as if torn by dragon claws. They are not long, and do not appear to truly hinder him, but the reason for carrying the pauldron is clear enough - not serious, and not a hindrance, but it cannot be comfortable, and should probably be either healed or dressed. "I hold no ill will, Zeke, but neither can I fully trust her. That is why I wished you to walk with me ... at the least, as far as you can."

Zeke's claw hovers in the air again, drawn by the clear claw-marks on Seldan's shoulder. It is obvious what, and who, made these marks. Without care Zeke closes his eyes, pulling from within the magic gifted to him by his patron and spilling it over Seldan to heal the wounds caused by Cryosanthia's claws. He crouches close to the man now, the warmth of healing echoing through him though he is not wounded. "Thissss one... Thisss one wasss worried that all wasss not well with her mind. Ssshe hass been changed by her esxperiansce but thisss one never thought that ssshe might be... dangerousss."

He clenches his claw into a useless fist at his side and shakes his head. "Thisss one ssshould never have let her go with you. Thisss one... Thisss one thanksss you for not holding ill will toward her." His shoulders slump and he nods. "Thisss one will come with, will of course do ssso. Thissss one sshould have been there all along." Even if he would have been lacking an arm and a leg it would not have been the first time in his life.

Seldan blinks, then relaxes as Daeus' healing mends his shoulder with ease. He murmurs the automatic, formulaic words of thanksgiving as might any of the faithful of Daeus, without thinking, and breaks the gaze between them only to flex the shoulder experimentally. "She ... at times has the mannerisms that She showed," he says, carefully. "Who can say what has been done to her? But ... I am in need of your help, to bring her back to herself. She sees Menel as a friend, a close one ... and yet ... he is my friend as well. She ... may think that I plot against him ... or so she told the guards." He shakes his head, slowly, and stands, trying to attach the pauldron to the rest of the armor, and strap it to himself as well. "I ... Such a notion had not crossed my mind, and even did it, it would be an unworthy and horrible thing even to contemplate, and were I to even try it..." A shudder ripples through him. That thought is not even to be considered.

"Thisss one had noticed the change in her behavior." Which only served to make Zeke feel guiltier for allowing Cryosanthia to leave so soon. He moves backwards now, allowing Seldan his space and rising to his feet. Discomforted the sith lets out a sigh and curls his tail around his legs in a self-soothing gesture. "Thisss one will do what can be done to bring her back to herssself. Ssshe must be."

This last is said firmly, and there is no arguing this fact. It must be done. It must be /capable/ of being done. "You are a good man Ssseldan, of coursse it did not crossss your mind. Thessse thougthsss, thesse wordssss... They come from thissss missstresss. Ssshe ssseeksss to divide usss, to make uss weak and untrussting of one another; thisss one isss sssure of thiss. You sssay that Cryosanthia wasss clossse to your friend, ssso thisss isss proof of thiss oness thoughtsss."

Zeke's tail gives a little half-thump behind him. Moving as though to smack the floor and yet it does not reach and the sith's next words are filled with the harshness that he has not shown toward Seldan. "Thisss one isss tired of being a ssstep behind thisss missstresss! Ssshe twisstsss everything good." His tail suddenly lies low, his quick moment of anger disappearing into the sadness that was waiting all along. "Thisss one can not ssspeak enough wordsss of apology to you Ssseldan, that ssshe attacked you and your friend isss... If ssshe were in her own mind it would be unforgivable."

It takes Seldan a minute to re-attach the pauldron, once he is on his feet, but when he does, he turns his full, serious, focused attention on Zeke, sadness written in his demeanor as well. He nods very, very slowly at the sith-makar's words. "You owe me no apology, Zeke. Finding her beneath the Mistress' call was ... not easy, but there are things that fascinate her. Perhaps you will manage better than I. When we stand before you, I would have you exact the apology from Her."

He smiles very slightly, trying to be reassuring, and straightens and pulls the cloak around himself again. His bearing steels with renewed determination as he does so. "The first thing we must do is remove those oozes from the city cisterns. Then we can set about other tasks. For now ... she needs your help. Shall we go?"

Zeke's eyes meet Seldan's briefly and he nods firmly. "Thisss one will be glad to meet thisss missstressss sssomeday, and teach Her that the sssith are not to be made ssslavesss." A flash of teeth, dangerous and full of promise. The sith do not take kindly to those that steal their kin, and this misstress of the Shard tower has proven herself one of that ilk.

The blue-scaled sith straightens and goes to open the door. "We will aid her Ssseldan. We will bring her back. Thiss one can not abide any other outcome." Zeke is not looking at Seldan when he says this, he is looking out into the temple. He says nothing more, simply leads Seldan out of the room, and on the way he picks up a cruch from one of the nurses station. Without his limbs... he will need one.

Seldan looks after Zeke as the sith-makar precedes him out of the room, and bows his head sadly, keenly feeling the sith-makar's tumult, even if he does not say so. There is quite simply nothing to be said to that, no balm for that wound ... and so many others. Breathing a silent prayer to his own patroness for her wisdom and insight, he trails the Sunguard from the room.