Bad News All Around

It's still early in the day, but the warmth that it will eventually bloom into is there in the air like a promise. Gentle clouds touch the sky, drifting lazily from one place to another, and Zeke enjoys watching them from his bench. He sits not far from the edge of the Temple of Daeus, his morning tea keeping him warm where the day has not had yet a chance to do so.

The blue-scaled sith is, even with the morning services pouring out of the temples, not difficult to find. His pure white vestments stand out among the crowd as they are meant to. His size, even sitting enough to draw attention. However with the sheer number of people coming and going he's not exactly alone. In fact there is a small group of people talking about the morning service at the other end of his bench.

Aya moves through the temple square towards the Temple of the Sun (or Dragonfather, as some prefer). Her pace is steady, even purposeful, as she scans the morning passersby, exiting worshippers, and the like. The bright white vestments are one feature her eyes seek and settle-skip-settle across. Another, far less common, is stature and, of course, the contrasting blue scales.

Thus it is not difficult for her to locate him, and her course the the temple adjusts slightly to intercept Zeke and his bench. While she avoids colliding with other pedestrians, the alterations are minimal until she comes to a stop before him, perhaps casting a small shadow over his tea.

"Zeke, we must speak." Nests and peace aren't mentioned, nor are any current conversations accounted for.

Since Zeke is not a 'part' of the conversation happening on the other end of the bench, he does not have to withdraw himself from it when Aya appears - more naturally than is her usual wont - before him. Zeke glances toward that conversation however, and then ducks his head politely to Aya. There's some wariness in his eyes though. "Peasssce on your nessst Aya. You are welcome to join thisss one if you wisssh to sshare wordsss." He motions to the bench beside him and the slender amount of space which she might sit on without encrouching on his or anothers space.

Aya's eyes shift to the others nearby, the narrow space, and back to Zeke. A moment passes, perhaps in consideration of the offer, or words related to it... or simply words. Her posture is rather straight, her expression neutral yet tensed. For the moment, she chooses not to sit, and doesn't even need to lower herself much, if at all, to meet his eyes.

"I bring news of your family," she offers that much, for context. That may make him inclined to discuss elsewhere, it may not, but she grants that option.

"Thiss onesss family?" Zeke's suspicion is clear, and he rises to his feet. The tea is easily boxed away with a few practiced movements. "Cryosssanthia isss.." He doesn't finish that sentence, but rather moves a few steps away from the group of people, and looks at Aya. "She isss not in Alexandria, and Lily isss in the care of othersss. Sso what newsss can you have of thisss oness family?"

Aya waits for him to finish packing the tea, then steps with him as he steps away. The comment of Cryosanthia causes a brief quirk of her brows; not an arch, but a momentarily wiggle, as if they would lift in their typical fashion, yet are restrained.

"Cryosanthia was returned to the city, Zeke. She is weak, resting, but alive. Sabina cares for her in a room at the TarRaCe."

Zeke hums at this, relaxing subtly and nodding to the words. "Thisss one isss glad. Thisss one wasss worried... No one ssseemed to be able to tell thisss one what happened to her. Thiss one iss glad that ssshe iss returned. Thisss one ssshould go then, ssee how ssshe isss and take Lily to her." He starts to move away from Aya, toward the TarRaCe.

"Wait." A hand darts for his arm, as his shoulder is rather distant for Aya. Regardless of whether it is scaled or crystal, she seeks to clasp it.

"Li-" her voice cracks and breaks, crumbling away a syllable short. A long pause is taken to patch it enough to continue. "He learned of her. He came for her. We... we could not stop him in time. She is gone."

Instinctively, Zeke moves away from the touch. It's not even a thought, but a step and her hand misses his shoulder and when her words come out, he rounds on her. It's clear that just for a second, his mind doesn't believe her, and then he does and he goes from disbelief to sorrow, to outright fury that is so strong even those who know nothing about sith could easily read it in his bearing.

"HOW?!?" He growls the word and those nearby flinch at the sound of him. Move away. He stalks a step toward Aya, and they are close enough that for the first time in spite of the fact that they have always been of very different heights; he draws himself up to his full measure and she might /feel/ that difference. "HOW AYA?"

Aya must look upwards, and now even further still, to meet his gaze. Mostly. She does look him in the eye, but it isn't the defiance that he, or anyone else, might come to expect. It is no longer even neutral, now, as that has cracked and broken as her voice did. Her eyes leak down her cheeks from that cracked shell.

"Not from me. Never from me." The words are quiet, only exacerbating the difference in volume. One that mirrors their differences in stature.

It's enough to crack Zeke's anger. He's not truly built as a person to hold anger. Not even when he truly needs it. He grasps her shoulders. "Then who?" His weight is on her, because he can barely hold himself up. The thought is too heavy for him to carry alone. "Who would give up a child?"

"A coward. I cannot say more," Aya admits, shaking her head slightly, "not at the cost of another life." The ire at knowing and the annoyance at being unable to share... are neither enough to plug the holes in her face.

Her hands lift to his robes, though its unclear whether they are to help support him, or herself. A mutual lean-to? She attempts to focus on what she -can- share and what she feels is more relevant for the here and now.

"We dealt him a blow. A mortal one, yet he is not mortal. Weakened? It is a chance. She could be found..." There are few facts, and only suppositions and theories. There is no intricate plan. No layers of options considered, evaluated, and contingencies made. Only nascent, flailing hope. Who could even attempt such a thing? Who might not be weakened, absent, broken...?

She can not say, and the knowledge that she knows consumes Zeke. He wants to shake the answer out of her, but at the cost of what innocent? "Thisss one... Thisss one musst go to Cryosssanthia." He sounds hollow. Shocky. Distracted. He pats Aya on the shoudler distractedly and shakes his head. "Thisss one musst convince her that all isss not losst."

"She may still sleep. She may not know. She needs to heal." Aya does not state such explicitly, yet her tone holds implications of deception or ommission. Perhaps it is merely her mul'niessan blood.

Having stated what needed to be stated, she now has questions that she still seeks answers to. None of which did he offer insight to. Yet... did she expect him to?

"Go. Tend her. She needs you."

Zeke does not even respond, but rather nods hurriedly and releases Aya so that he can go to the side of his cihuaa.

-End