My Intentions

Another night of rest and then it is a new day. A day for training, or so Aya arranged, dependent on her strength and well-being by that time. An early start defers the heat of the day, the glaring sun which tends to bring it, and gives the most time for training.

Thus Aya is ready ahead of the dawn appointment, and even awaits outside at the end of the temple's steps. While she is leaning lightly against a pillar, her posture makes it appear more casual than required. She very much, indeed, seems improved; either enough to be fully or nearly fully restored, or enough to appear so rather convincingly.

Aya did not have to wait long for her pupil to arrive, the recovering mul'neissa being outside and standing lending some surprise to Aryia as she just crests the grounds to the Temple. She smiles, though keeps a wary eye on how they use the environment. A hand is offered to Aya, the other one occupied with a bag slung over her shoulder.

And off to the training grounds they go.

Aryia does, along the way, try to pry about Aya's state of being, giving concerned warnings about what happened before. Namely along the lines of 'you were fine then suddenly weren't'. But it wasn't too long in their conversations that they came to a still somewhat empty Colosseum. Far too early for most other than the most dedicated.

And now it seems that the reverse is true? Aya accepts the hand and keeps it as they walk to the Colosseum; a casual pace, at best, for Aya. Perhaps she is also mindful of what occured before. It is certainly something she does not wish to repeat. Her other hand is free of baggage, and she makes use of it to offer her thoughts en route, finishing as they arrive.

"I won't question ZEKE's wisdom so easily in the future. Perhaps I was not as fine as I believed, and only felt strong enough to make matters worse."

"Which is why you should sit-" she jabs a finger at one of the benches lining the sand pits, her expression firm- "Until he gives you the all clear. It's already a stretch enough to come here."

She doffs the bag, it landing with a small 'thunk' on one end of the bench as she reaches into it. She pulls free a silver colored ribbon, the mute woman pulling her hair back and tying it off into a short ponytail. <Handspeech>

Perhaps as further proof that Aya is feeling stronger, her eyes roll slightly with the firm directive and she exhales. "Very well." After lowering herself to settle upon the bench, she looks up to Aryia with a brow arched. "What would you learn from me whilst I sit, then?" An edge of wry in that, though blunted with some amusement.

Aryia, just as snippy and learning how Aya ticks, just merely retorts with sticking her tongue out coupled with a light glare. With just as much wry and amusement. She leans onto her back foot as she rolls up her sleeves.

"There's a couple. There's that thing I learned how to do, and..." she pauses with a hand in the air, before tapping her chin with it. "... you shouldn't use it, but maybe you could guide me through how mul'neissa use their... magic." <Handspeech>

Aya arches a brow at 'the one thing' as she considers the options before her. "Perhaps you could show me that, first? After, I can attempt to guide you through the power in your blood, yes."

Aryia makes a small 'ah' sound as the choice is made. She holds up a finger and takes a few steps back, boot prints in the sand following her wake. "Sorry, I need a little bit for that. Mindset and all that."

Like the many times before when they've trained, she goes through a series of painful looking stretches. Each one eliciting serval pops and cracks from whatever joint was subject to the practice.

Finished, she stands to her full height, and closes her eyes. A muted range of emotions play across her face. Concentration, followed by sadness, pain, anger, then resolve. Finding what she was looking for, she cracks her neck. Her jaw tenses and she opens her eyes.

Nothing was visibly different.

Knowing this, she walks over to the adjacent stone wall, gestures towards it, then abruptly punches it with a full force haymaker. Aryia's hand pulls away. Instead of a shattered fist and a bruised hand, it merely looked as if it was just lightly scuffed. She shakes it off, looking to Aya and hoping that explained everything.

Aya watches attentively, perhaps curiously, though her expression has returned to neutral or very near. The moment of concentration and focus is noted, and then ... the striking of the stone full force. While the stone, itself, isn't shattered... neither is Aryia's hand, wrist, or arm.

"You hardened your body against the stone? To penetrate the target, or to protect yourself?" It may be that either or both options are potentially possible.

The shaking hand morphs into gestures, two fingers making a twisting motion. "The second one. It doesn't... if I think about that one moment, nothing hurts as much as that. So that didn't hurt." At the signs 'that one moment', her free hand rubs against her neck.

<Handspeech>

Aya nods as Aryia clarifies, and her expression breaks neutral when a corner of her mouth lifts upwards. "You are doing very well, Aryia, and I have no doubts that you will only improve further. Before long, not only will that.." a gesture to the stone pillar " not hurt you, but it will also crumble before you."

Aryia bows her head slightly and folds her hands in front of her, a small, proud smile cresting her lips. "Thank you," she motions, lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet now. "I don't know if that will happen, but you believe in me, and I think that's enough to make me think so." <Handspeech>

Aya lifts her hands to gesture in return, promptly pointing at her. "What is important is that -you- believe in yourself. I can help guide, but you are the one who empowers yourself." Her half-smile firms. "You will achieve all you strive to." <handspeech>

Aryia shifts on her feet, her giving a weak nod while her head lightly hangs. "I... will try. I have been trying. It is not something that happens overnight."

Though, the smile earned doesn't wane in the slightest.

She glances to the stone pillar, seeing where she clocked it before looking to her scuffed fist. Imagine. Being strong enough to do that… <Handspeech>

"No, it won't," Aya's smile remains firm, but it also remains, "but it will happen so long as you continue to strive. On that, what would you strive for, next?"

The question makes Aryia close her eyes and fold her hands behind her back, standing at a parade rest. Face pensive. Such a query requires serious consideration, and nothing knee jerk.

"Speak with Venom," she motions, a witty smirk playing her lips. Okay, just a little bit of joking.

She shakes her head, resettling her gaze on her mentor. "I... suppose I just want to improve myself. With whatever options I have. I don't know what is next to reach, but I have to keep reaching." <Handspeech>

From the entrance to the colosseum comes a slowly but inevitably moving figure of blue and white. The white a stunning perfect color like the first fall of snow. The blue a dark color almost dark enough to rival the midnight sky. Just a few shades lighter. Yet more noticeable than the white or blue are the figure's crystalline limbs. They are after all the earmarks of Zeke. He moves across the space between himself and the dual figures of Aya and Aryia until he has reached them and levels a look of pure disapproval at them. "Peasssce on your nessstsss. What bringsss you out thiss day?"

Aya looks up to the rather formally standing Aryia from her seat on the nearby bench. The bit of wit is not missed, nor is the fact (or Aya's belief) that it isn't entirely flippant nor random. "That may be best for this evening. Until then, perhaps we could..."

Her words trail off as she catches the conspicuous blue and white approaching in the early morning sun and her head turns towards to follow his approach. She returns his greeting with a dip of her head. "Peace on your nest, Zeke." A hand lightly gestures to Aryia. "There is much she should know, much that she was denied. After days of rest, I felt much improved. Her training was already delayed long enough on my account."

Aryia nods along with Aya, though her attention joins in where ever Aya was looking. The scarred woman's face blanches some, posture breaking to fidget with her fingernails. "Peace on your nest," she says after a moment to gather herself. Feeling an overwhelming need to bail themselves out, she uses simple gestures. "I make her sit, no exercise for her. Promise!" <Handspeech>

Zeke looks at Aya, his green eyes peering deep into hers. "That isss odd. Given your condition, thissss one wasss expecting a much longer recovery. You ssshould not be out of bed." He looks at Aryia, speaking a little more gently. "Jussst the walk to and from the temple could be enough to ssset her recovery back. Sssuch isss what made her sso ssick before. Thisss one isss ssurprisssed ssshe made it here. Unlesss ssome-thing hass happened that thisss one doesss not know about."

"It is somewhat miraculous, is it not?" Aya tentatively agrees, the corner of her mouth curling up wryly as she continues, "That I finally accepted the words of a wise healer and took proper rest. I did not heed your advice, before, pressed too hard, and I suffered for it."

The wit softens in her tone and expression, after. "We travelled here with patience and care, Zeke, and I avoid exertion. This is far less than the trek up the ridge."

The mute pugilist slumps a bit in where she stands, guilt writing itself all over her face. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all...

She looks between her mentor and the healer. Face growing pensive, coupling with the guilt. "... but if S-E-L-D-A-N is still bad... then..." She looks at Aya, worried. <Handspeech>

Zeke looks at Aya impassively. "Thisss one hass much experiance with injuriesss and ssicknesssess. Ressst alone iss not enough. Time iss alssso required. You sssshould return to the temple Aya, and allow thisss one to look you over. Make sssure you did not over-exert yourssself." He glances at Aryia nad nods seriously. Agreeing with her assessment, and her clear concern.

Aya lifts a hand to halt Aryia, as if that could simply turn off her worry and/or guilt. "I was the one who invited you here. If I further injured myself, the fault is mine, not yours."

Aya lifts a hand to halt Aryia, as if that could simply turn off her worry and/or guilt. "I was the one who invited you here. The fault is mine, not yours." Her eyes remain on Zeke throughout.

"If you insist that I rest further, I will do so, but I dislike that she suffers for my sake. Do you not drive yourself further than you should for the aid of others? How is that any different? Risk of some passing discomfort is an acceptable price for me to pay."

The halting hand had an opposite effect, akin to a water spigot being pressed down with a thumb. "We... we need to get you back right away," she gestures quickly and sharply, bottom lip wavering. She really, really did not want a repeat of last time. "Teaching me is useless if the days spent waiting become multiplied!" <Handspeech>

"Thisss one doess inssisst, and an examination would be good too. To make sssure that you did not hurt yoursself. Thiss one doess not mean to punisssh Aryia, but sshe can wait for your teachingssss until you are well. Asss ssshe sssaysss. What good isss it if sshe mussst wait longer in the long run?" Zeke offers a comforting look to Aryia. "We will take it ssslow back to the temple, or perhapsss we can have a ssstrecher brought out? Thisss one thinksss sssuch are kept here for unconsssiousss participantsss of the gamesss."

Aya was probably getting sick of soup, but it was important for the mul'niessa to remain hydrated, especially after the incident on the bridge the other day. At least the fare was becoming more substantial, the usual filling fare of the althean temple. But this day, when Seyardu stopped by with another meal and pot of tea, the room was empty. Seyardu sighs, and leaves. She didn't think Aya would attempt the mountain road again, and there was mention of the baths. So she travels to the district, just in time to see a shiny limbed makari disappear into the colosseum. so she too walks inside, finding the mul'niessa, and, her accomplice?

"Peace on your nests." She greets. "Aya, you missed your meal."

Seyardu blinks, talk of stretchers and overexertion. She squints even more at Aya. "Did you exert yourself too much?"

Aya arches a brow at Aryia, then looks to Zeke's insistance... and then up from her seat to Seyardu's arrival. "That is a matter of some debate," she answers the silverscale with a return of mirth and with curling her lips briefly before they flatten and she exhales. "One that I appear to be the minority in..."

Zeke's offer of some compromise, such as it is, is promptly leapt upon. "Very well. Is the bench not sufficient? A stretcher is still preferable to The Room. No offense intended." A change of scenery is at least something. Perhaps that was an underlying cause all along, as she makes no move to stand.

Aryia barely glances towards Seyardu as she arrives, her shaking her head. "No. Maybe. I don't know." Her hands come up to the sides of her head, palms on her temples.

She frowns at Aya. "I don't think he means for you to stay here," she motions with increasing worry. "The temple has services to help should something happen. I can carry you." <Handspeech>

"Thisss one doess not mean for you to ssstay here." Zeke expresses clearly. "Thisss one sssuggesstsss a sstrecher ssso that we might carry you back to your room. Ssso that you do not hurt your-ssself further." He tilts his head at her and looks at her quizzically. "Do you have a fever? Are you underssstanding thisss one alright?"

Seyardu says, "It is not a debate when it comes to health. Though it may be an opinion." Seyardu responds. "Aya, we mean to help, but please, do not disappear with no notice. If something happens, we will not know where to find you. It was luck I even happened upon this place."

"A stretcher would be unnecessary most likely. Aryia can carry her just fine, and she should be able to walk."

Seyardu tilts her head. "Is talking okay? That was what caused problems the other day in the end.""

Mayhaps The Room was of major concern as the remaining mirth in Aya's features fades and neutrality firms. "I can understand you," she answers Zeke, eyes shifting to Aryia and Seyardu as well. "All of you, perfectly well. I do not feel ill. Perhaps not my utmost, but not ill."

She then rises to stand, smoothly, but not abruptly. "I made the journey here, so I expect that I can make the return with my own legs... and I did not disappear," she adds to Seyardu. "I walked here from the temple with Aryia. Had I known approval or notice was required, I might have done so."

Aryia was already there as Aya decides to get to her feet. A hand subtly held out, like many times before. While Aya may have squashed whatever was on her visage, Aryia's expressions were exacerbated. Worry, guilt, even more worry. Her frame faintly tremoring.

"W-We can train behind the temple i-instead," she gestures with a free hand, the shaking blurring a few of the signs. <Handspeech>

Zeke turns, heading toward the temple, allowing Aryia to assist Aya as she requires, but staying near at hand so that he can aid also should that be a need. He hovers near her solicitously, his green eyes checking on her general condition for signs of exhaustion or other tell-tale factors. "Let ussss worry about the exam firssst. Perhapsss ssshe will be able to train with you a little to-morrow." He shifts his tail swish-flick behind him. His scent is worried, as Seyardu will be able to tell. And yet also smells faintly irritated though he seems to be keeping that off of his expression.

Seyardu walks over. As much as it was about Aya, she could not ignore her friend, either. She places a hand gently on one of Aryia's shoulders. "It will be alright, Aryia, though your worry is understood. You did nothing wrong coming here with her. And you as well, Aya. But please understand, when you needed to be carried back to the temple last time, disappearing with no note from the temple is cause for concern. There are many to keep track of at times."

Finally, she smiles. "This one is glad you are alright regardless. You look much better today, but it is important to stay that way."

Aya does not disregard Aryia's hand; as their trip here, she takes it before beginning to follow Zeke. Also as before, her steps are not rushed; slow and steady that wins races, or so the axiom may go. In this instance, though, perhaps her grip may help ease Aryia as the unsteady one, at least in the hand.

"We will strive for tomorrow, then," she echoes Zeke to Aryia with some measure of optimism before she looks to Seyardu. "This concern is not unwarranted, I will admit, and is not ... disliked, it is simply ... unaccustomed, unfamiliar," Aya offers by way of some explanation. She does not seem fatigued as she walks, though she was sitting for the prior duration.

Seyardu and Aya, through their respective reassurances, could feel the extent of Aryia's worries. Deep seated shaking, the emotion engraved in every twitch, only to be abated as steps were taken towards the exit. They could tell she was truly, deeply worried.

She gives a tiny nod, a shaky sigh of relief following afterwards. The entourage of healers nearby easing her woes. But she has no words or gestures, oddly focused on a very specific task: getting back.

It is not a short trip across the city back to the temple of Eluna. Particularly not at the pace that Zeke sets. Admittedly he doesn't move /slowly/ but he doesn't move quickly either. He sets a slow easy pace that any invalid would be happy to take, and pushes himself to go no faster than that. Once they reach the temple of Eluna, he leads the way back to Aya's room holding the door open politely for Aya and her guests and then heads to the basin in the room to wash his claws. "Would you like privascy for your exam Aya?" Soft-skins could be odd about who and who was not allowed present for such things.

GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+22: (5)+22: 27
GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (17)+3: 20

Aya is not entirely happy, nor entirely invalid, but she accepts the pace set by Zeke. Her own may not have been much different, though odds are that she did need to slow slightly; Zeke likely erred on the side of slow in his pace.She offers no further objections nor prime witticisms en route or as she enters, moving to sit on the bed. Possibly in a depression in the mattress of her own recent making.

Zeke's question seems to spark some bit of amusement. "I doubt there is anything for me to reveal not yet witnessed by those present." They are the two primary healers/caretakers and her bathing partner, afterall. Nor is she as modest as some, perhaps, to begin with.

It was not until Aryia stepped into The Room did she release a tension held deep within her frame. The sigh that came after could possibly be heard down the hall. She releases Aya's hand and slides over to a chair. Knee bouncing a few beats before forcing herself to relax. A mere nod in response to Aya's answer.

Seyardu was moving at the same pace as everyone else had been. Or slower, as she had a tendency to stumble over some of her steps. But eventually she reaches the temple with the others, and steps inside. the soup had been eaten and bowls returned to the other temple. She steps into the room first, and the bed is remade before she sits down, and she gathers several supplies and necessary tools.

"Please follow along with what Zeke asks of you, in that case." Seyardu adds while washing her own hands a second time.

Zeke nods in assent to Aya's words, and doesn't question her desires. Instead he moves over to her and begins to check her over for signs of exhaustion and sickness and really... anything. He gives her a through examination, veritably putting the woman through her paces. Though he is sith, and thus he has very little in the way of 'human' expressiveness, Seyardu at least can get a sense of his emotions from his body language and his scent. After taking his time and carefully checking everything - twice - Zeke pulls back and blinks at Aya. "You are completely healthy."

His tone does not sound as pleased as a healer's tone should sound when declaring such a thing. "Thisss one can find no sssign of exhaussstion, or ssicknesss. Or that you have /ever been/ sssick. Yessterday you were recovering from being violently ill and today..." He makes a motion with his claw. "No-thing." He looks at Seyardu.

Aya sits (or leans, or lies down, as necessary) through Zeke's examination rather impassively, but cooperatively. As he pulls back, she starts to re-settle her clothing, though the tone of his prognosis is far more concerning than the words. Brows lift.

"Why do you sound ...disappointed, Zeke? I am quite relieved at your evaluation."

Aryia isn't one to watch the exam overly so. There wasn't anything she hadn't seen before. However, at any point during the exam it was bared, the mute's now shimmery gaze was intently watching her mentor's upper back.

The diagnosis makes Aryia blink. She had thought Aya was still somewhat recovering, but to be completely hale? Aryia bites her metaphorical tongue, letting the healers sort it out.

Seyardu followed along and assisted much like any assistant cleric or healer would, noting where she could, gauging a few reactions while Aya was distracted, and writing them down for Zeke. She hands him the papers, and waits at his side for the announcement.

"Yes, you seem fine, if perhaps a bit tired?"

Seyardu looks to Zeke, and back to Aya. She would let Zeke share his concerns himself.

"You... are not underssstanding." Zeke explains gently, taking a breath. "There isss no-thing at all wrong. No sssign that you were ever injured in the sssea of mana. No sssign that you were sssick yessterday. No dehydration. No..." He searches for non-healer words to explain the details that are simply lacking. "Burnsss. No bruissess in your flesssh. No tendernesss. There /ssshould/ be /sssome/. It isss asss if sssomeone took all the magic... build up out of you. Thisss one doess not know how sssuch iss possible."

He reaches out and touches Aya on the shoulder. "If we can replicate thisss... Sseldan could be better /tomorrow/." His eyes are locked onto her eyes. Searching her gaze for some hint of how this impossible thing had been done.

Aya's brows arch further, now in surprise as Zeke expounds upon details. She was aware that she felt better, but she is not a healer. When he approaches her and locks eyes, she blinks, not having expected disapproval to become astonishment to become... hope? Her eyes shift to his hand on her shoulder momentarily before returning to his gaze. Perhaps she has learned or acquired another aspect from Aryia?

Her lips purse and her brow furrows. "I wish Seldan to be restored as much as any, but I don't believe that I can aid him."

Aryia looks between Zeke and Aya. She wasn't the most educated, but she could connect the dots about the odd occurance. The knee bouncing resumed. "... what do you mean?" she asks, growing antsy. <Handspeech>

"This recovery could not have happened through normal means." Seyardu adds, looking to Aya." This one has seen what happens when you, and Seldan attempt any magic, and suspects what would happen if any outside sources attempted to do so."

Seyardu looks to Aryia, before continuing. "It means, there was something, unknown perhaps, that allowed Aya to recover from her affliction. Which is good, but the unknown is concerning."

Zeke pulls back somewhat, nodding to Seyardu. "You have no idea what might have healed you Aya?"

Aya's pursed lips deepen into a frown. With Zeke stepped back, she stands to her feet and shakes her head. "No, I have -some- idea of what healed me. No offense to yourself, the healers, nor your gods... I chose to explore outside assistance." She pauses only to glance across the three present, folding her hands behind her back (not unlike Aryia's stance in the Colosseum).

"Over the years," she now admits, "I have acquired contacts from a variety of venues, most of whom would not be welcome in this temple. Taarans, thieves, and the like. I called on a favor owed, and was delivered a possibility. No promises and only risk."

Her eyes now return fully to Zeke's. "It appears that it worked as suggested, but I do not know what it was, if more can be acquired, nor even if it would work the same a second time."

Aryia looks between Zeke and Aya, her nervous knee bouncing not helping in the slightest with the silence in the room. A subtle 'tac tac tac tac tac' with her heel against the floor.

Her attention focuses on Aya. The admittance is met with... confusion? No, not confusion. She wasn't exactly pleased with the who Aya had connections with, but she didn't fault her for it. You don't get out of Charn with a number of those, especially those. But more of a... resignation. The number of questions spawned would, in no way, be quenched for the mute woman.

It does abate her worries. Slightly. At least her knee stops bouncing. Still, she had to at least ask, "If... it won't work again. Could... you explain what happened? Maybe they can recreate the effects?" she goes out on a limb. <Handspeech>

Seyardu took a step back from the bed as she listens to the explanation. The silver sith-makar looks down, hanging their head somewhat, with a scent of shame, and sadness.

"There is offence taken, Aya." Seyardu finally speaks, looking back up to Aya. "If you were not willing to wait to recover with rest, why did you say nothing? This one would have listened, explored other options. I am sorry to have failed your trust in such a manner."

Zeke glances at Seyardu. "If you have failed to earn her trussst, then thisss one hass failed all the more." He says this very seriously, his green eyes sad and yet... there's something else in them. Something cold and hard. "If you can tell usss who helped you Aya... how they helped. Any-thing might help ussss in aiding the othersss ssso sstricken."

Aya looks to Aryia to 'listen' to her query and nods, though her expression remains displeased. Perhaps moreso at the words from the Sith healers. "I never doubted your wisdom, either of you," she notes. "I only doubted that the time would be available. Enemies are not so polite as to wait until one is healthy and I would not be trapped in a bed while the city might burn around me."

She meets Zeke's eyes again, last, and her own widen slightly at the hardness there. "A potion or concoction of some sort. The results were ... " her face contorts "as unpleasant as the mana that seared me to cause this. I cannot tell you whom delivered it nor where it might have come from. I did not ask what it contained."

Aryia couldn't fault the logic in that. Though she looks on with some worry at the way she described the elixir. Were Aya to be closer, Aryia might have held onto a hand. Yet she has nothing to add, nor nothing to say. She wasn't the expert here.

"So you would risk your life on a potion that you do not even know the contents of, instead of trusting others to keep the city from burning down while you recover." Seyardu replies, shaking her head. "I did not say you doubted our wisdom, just that you did not trust us to even warn about it, and leave for the colosseum afterwards, as well."

She steps back, closer to the door. "I am sorry, I have nothing good to say about this, aside from the fact that you are in good health."

Zeke shakes his head. Takes a breath and looks at her with something unreadable on his face and in his eyes. "Why can you not sssay who healed you Aya? It isss as Ssseyardu sssaysss... why would you trusst thisss thing that you do not know... more than usss? Why take the risssk?"

It is a fair and valid question. An easy question, for Aya, it may well not be. Her jaw tightens and loosens in a cycle or two and she lifts a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose once before looking back up.

"I have survived by my own hand, my own choices; there is risk in every choice. This was simply once more. Trust does not come so easily to all, Zeke. Did you ever trust me, before? Do you now?" A brow lifts with the query and there is an appearance of familiar sharp wit in her tone.

An appearance that she may realize, as she pauses and her expression softens. "Even so, I would always choose to stand upright for myself. Alongside others if need be, but not behind them."

Aryia looks between all, bouncing back and forth, looking more uncomfortable as emotions seemed to be running higher and higher. They were going about this the wrong way. She bows her head and clenches jaw, knee bouncing. Tak tak tak Tak Tak TAk TAk TAK.

"ST-P!" a raspy, hissy, voice manages to be heard. Nothing more than normal conversational tone, but had the full intention of shouting. There's a coughing fit, Aryia grasping at her throat and doubling over, flecks of blood dotting the floor in front of her. She shoves a hand out to stop any that try and aid her as she gets to her feet. "No. Stop. You're thinking of this all the wrong way. Hurt feelings can come later," the mute woman steps into the center of it all, lightly coughing into a fist and wiping her lips free of life ichor. Face set in a thin line of grim determination. "No one's disrespecting anyone. So let's ignore that shit right now. Aya. Is. Healed. From something."

She swivels to Aya, stepping to the side so the others could read her gestures. "Can you describe what happened when you got healed, in detail, if you can?" <Handspeech>

Seyardu stepped closer to help the mul'niessa, but she steps back to read the hands. The silver sith-makar shakes her head. "No, Aryia. I do not agree with you. Let me know if you need anything for your throat." She states, but she relents and leans against the wall. "But I will ignore it for now. Tell us what you can, Aya."

Zeke moves toward Aryia, worried about the blood that she's coughing up. "Do you require healing?" He asks her the question quietly. In truth he doesn't know what she's said, but is instead concerned about her well being. He is worried that he missed her emotions before this, and upset her enough to harm herself.

The shout may not be loud, but Aya startles all the same. She takes two steps to Aryia and is reaching her way when the deflecting hand is shoved out. Whatever her thoughts were before, they have abruptly shifted. Aya moves slightly in place as she listens as the other mul speaks her mind, but her concern remains. It may well appear that a mirror was flipped between the two from just a moment past.

"I cannot share of it what I don't know, Aryia." That it is a fact doesn't make it as easy to state as one might expect. "Be calm."

Aryia's scowl deepens as everyone decides to leap to their feat to help. Three fingers snip at Seyardu, Zeke, and Aya.

"No."

"No."

"No."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. A range of muted emotions roll across her face. Sadness, fear, anger, then resolve. Something Aya would recognize.

"Anything? Do you remember what it tasted like? Did anything, like, magic looking happen? You said it hurt a lot. How did it hurt? Did you throw up again? Anything? Even just a color would help them." Her gestures are sharp and focused, ignoring the very slight dribble of blood spilling from her lip. <Handspeech>

She points at Seyardu. "Translate for Zeke."

"Yes, I figured." Seyardu sighs. She reads the hands, and nods. "I will translate. Aryia is asking if Aya remembers anything about the process. What it tasted like, if there were any discernible visual affects, and how it hurt. If there were any side effects like vomiting again. As well, if you remember the color of the vial, or any other effects. Do you remember who gave it to you?"

Zeke keeps silent for the moment, but there's clearly something on his mind. Something disturbing him, and he shifts from foot to foot. Yet... For Aryia's sake he says nothing. It's clear she wants the answer to this enough to harm herself, and that... is something he can not abide.

Aya's expression of concern doesn't exactly abate, though she pushes some of the thoughts behind it aside for the moment to replace them with recollections as she can. "It tasted horrid. The vial was nondescript. The pain was ... agony. Searing. Threatening to tear me asunder. Much as the ritual was. I..." She pauses a moment and her brow furrows more in concentration, now. "I vomited... something. Perhaps it was the mana removed, but I do not know. I was not fully aware at that moment and slept soon after."

The answer makes the grim, serious visage of the mute woman melt away. Now that, that was an answer. A really, really good answer. "Thank you, Aya. I think that will help them a lot," she motions before reaching out to put her unbloodied hand on her mentor's shoulder.

She smiles. Ichor stained teeth on full display as a tiny wake of the life fluid crests and falls out, staining the whole front of her shirt.

Aaaaaand now the pain sets in. "Ok I'll take that healing now," she gestures quickly, resisting the urge to cough again to make things worse as a hand presses against her throat. <Handspeech>

Seyardu listens, and jots down some information on another sheet as she does so. She was still sad and disappointed, but Aryia wanted the information to be shared, and she should learn what she could. And then she leans down to place a hand on Aryia's shoulder. "Celestial mother, mend the wounds of this one." she offers in prayer. The wounds were mended with healing energy, and she stands back up, not lingering. "But you put this into place yes? Can you not remember anything about this process?"

The silverscale asks Aya. "Aryia was just thanking them for the information, and asking for healing. I should have said something first, Zeke."

Zeke looks at the two women. "Enough." He shakes his head and looks at Aya. "Isss it not enough Aya? You are lying. You remember. You know who healed you. You know what they did, but you do not wisssh to tell usss becaussse... It wasss Eclavdran wasss it not?" He looks at her, stares into her eyes.

The blue-scaled sith steps toward Aya, his bearing one of someone barely controlling their movements. "No more liesss. No more! You watch thisss onesss youngling! We trusssted you!" He hisses. "Tell thisss one that thisss one isss wrong, or be ssilent, and we will know that thisss one isss right." Aya steps back as Seyardu steps with aid, though only a step. She continues to observe and may even be ...hovering, perhaps without being consciously aware of it. When Zeke first calls a halt, it seems that the tensions are finally eased, or halted.

And then he continues on to statements and accusations...

The wrinkles worry on her features are stretched out of existence as her visage expands in surprise. Brows threaten to join her braids, and she blinks, twice.

"What?!"

Her face subsequently collapses back in on itself into a scowl above tightened jaw and eyes narrowed. "Why would you think such a thing?!" A finger lifts to point back at him. "You trust me, but accuse me?! If I deny you I am lying, if do not that you are right?!"

So much for eased or halted.

Seyardu was watching again. She had noticed anger from the cleric, but this sudden outburst made her stand on end, looking around the room. She looks to Zeke, and holds up a hand. "Zeke, this one knows you have had trouble with Aya in the past, but please, stop and think. This, this is a serious accusation, you must have some information that this one does not to state as such."

She was panicked, yes, but tried to steady herself, and she spoke as calmly as ever. "Aya, he did not say you were lying by denying him. But please, just, prove him wrong." Seyardu says to the mul'niessa. "This one, does not want to believe you would do such due to a desire not to be bedridden. I believe you, still."

Aryia's sighs in relief as the healing magics mend her already rent throat. Still, it would take some time to recover from that outburst, at least she wasn't leaking blood internally anymore. She nods in appreciation towards Seyardu, about to gesture a thank you before she suddenly goes rigid.

Her head pivots to Zeke, shimmery, milk eyes wide. Bloody mouth hung open. She blinks owlishly. And watches Aya.

She watches the surpise. The anger. Aryia believed her. She had to. Just from she knew about Aya, she wouldn't do something so brash, bringing such a person into a temple so close to where an invasion of undead were.

She wouldn't.

... would she?

The rising tension in the room exploding past where she tried to stem it. Aryia crumbles back, burying her face into bloodied hands and all but collapsing into the chair she stood from before. She did not have the bandwidth for this.

Zeke has control over himself though. This is not a blind rage, but rather a cool one. One full of the certainty that comes with clarity. "Thisss one sssaid that if you could deny it - do ssso. But you can not can you? Thisss one did trusst you. Thisss one gave you the chanssce to tell thisss one and your comradesss what happened, but you will not!" He snaps his teeth and pulls back away from Aya with a short step. He looks hurt. Injured by her. "There are eyess in the houssse of the dreamer Aya! Earsss! What happened between you and that demon was witnesssed! Tell thisss one that thisss one isss wrong Aya! Pleassse. Make thisss one wrong!"

Aya's ire is more than evident, between her pointing finger and scowling glare. She even tenses further at the snapping of teeth before Zeke steps back. Only then does she see more in his gaze. Moreso than noticed, it is -felt-. Her glare can't remain and shifts aside...

To the silverscale, and even in that fleeting interval, her gaze has lost much of the fire underlying it. This one is not accusing, but rational. Calm, almost. Trusting and pleading? Aya's focus shifts again...

Finally to Aryia, who now has face covered in hands, slumped in the chair, and still covered in blood... Aya simply ..watches for a long moment, as her gaze is no longer fierce enough to qualify as a stare.

Her countenance is neutral was it pans back to the bluescale, if a tense neutral. A light breath taken before she speaks.

"No. I won't."

A choice; with risk and consequence just as any other.

Aryia can't handle this. She is not equipped to handle this level of conflict. Not like this. Not with people she cares about. Hands slide to the sides of her head, fingers digging into her scalp as everyone goes back and forth. With blood streaked hair and a handprint of crimson on her paled face, Aryia abruptly stands. Staggers for a moment, breathing erratic. Trembling, wide, innocent eyes settled on none other than her mentor.

She stumbles towards the door with increasing pace. It's shouldered open with a heavy thud before she rips down the halls, loud footfalls slowly receding announcing her rapid departure.

Seyardu was staring at the mul'niessa, at the accusations. She reached over to place a hand on Aryia's shoulder, but she was tearing out of the room. Back to Aya.

"You, will not prove him wrong, or can not prove him wrong?" Seyardu asks. It was almost overpowering, the distress from the silver sith-makar. "Please, be the first, Aya. This one does not think you would do such to be out of a room quicker."

Zeke takes another step back, looking stricken again, but he holds himself. Holds his breath. Holds his anger. Settles it deep inside his soul where it only leaks out in his distressed scent. "Thisss one asssksss Aya. If you... if you did what thisss one thinksss you did. If you made a deal with a demon... Ssstay sssilent." He has wisdom in his green eyes. "Demonsss Sseyardu, they are tricky thingsss. They bind thossse that they deal with. Ssshe might be forsced to kill usss if ssshe anssswersss too much. Ssshe might be killed herssself. Her sssilensce will tell usss all we need to know." He looks at Aya.

Aya hears Seyardu, and though her eyes flicker momentarily, they remain on Zeke throughout, otherwise. Perhaps to solidify her choice, she lifts her arms to cross them in front of her chest and her stance straightens and firms. A posture of defiance, at least for those of softer skin.

One that doesn't reach her eyes, as there is no hardness there. Rather, the violet is subdued may appear shifted far more towards blue than red.

"This one, understands." Seyardu sighs, hanging her head again. "Why?" They ask. The distress only grew. "Can I not deliver food for a friend without fiends becoming involved? And the temples, they are not even safe from them entering?"

Seyardu backs up to the door, shaking her head again. "Apologies, Zeke. This one knows it is needed to be known. But it cannot be handled right now. Peace on your nest, Zeke, Aya. Please, just, this one wants to believe, even if this is true, you had reason. You are better than this Aya, do not let pride get better of you."

With that she slipped out the door, to go, she really wasn't sure. Away from there, at least.

Zeke does not back up. Not this time. He watches Seyardu leave, nodding to her words. Understanding, but he... He must bear this burden. The knowledge that nowhere is safe. That his allies are consorting with demons. He looks at Aya. "If only you had come to thisss one. If he threatened othersss, we would have protected them together. If he threatened you, we could have protected you..."

He shakes his head and lets out a soft sigh. "If you had told the truth when thisss one came to you today..." Zeke shuts his mouth with a click. "Thisss one isss sssorry Aya. That you never had faith in usss. To protect you. To be here for you." He blinks, full of sorrow.

A brow arches. He would have... what? it might convey, though with only flat earnest and no sharp wit. Her arms relax and move to her sides, though her posture remains firm. "No apologies, Zeke," she finally speaks again, and it is a familiar tone, a corner of her mouth curling upwards. "You speak as if I were dead and gone. I am not. Nor are you, nor many others. I intend to keep it that way... so you can apologize another time."

While not dead, she is then gone, vanishing to leave only a few fading tendrils of shadow in her wake.

-End