Visiting the Sick

Eluna's faithful do not maintain the large infirmary or houses of healing that the Hearthguards or even the Sunguards do, for while they are capable enough healers, few in truth seek them. Those who do seek their healing are either from their own ranks, or find themselves afflicted with something that requires knowledge of or experience with magic to combat. In Seldan's case, it is both, and so he is to be found in this small, austere stone room, on the cot furthest from the door, perhaps half-awake - it is not easy to tell at first glance.

Although the physical wounds and burns from their encounter with the Unraveller have been healed, it is painfully clear that the paladin is not yet out of the woods. The stone room is cool despite the heat and humidity of the day, and he lies beneath several blankets, damp towels applied to forehead and the back of his neck, and although his complexion is usually alabaster-fair, this time it is unearthly pale, almost ashen. The lights in the room are hooded or dimmed.

The blue-scaled sith leads the way into the room, moving with care to be quiet. Though he himself said that Seldan is 'able' to see visitors, if the man will be in the mood for them may be quite another fact altogether. Healing is a very personal thing. He strides across the room as silently as he might, but the click-clicking of his false leg gives away his presence long before he reaches Seldan's side. "Peasssce on your nessst kin." He murmurs quietly. He has stopped off in the temple for an actual tea service, though he is uncertain if Seldan can bear to drink anything as of yet. "How are you today?"

Shuffling in with the group is a familiar scarred Mul, shades hanging from the collar of her shirt and sighing in relief from the darkened room. So dark, it was, that her eyes flickered faintly from Taara's blessing. She blinks at Seldan state, not used to seeing the normally stalwart man so vulnerable before. Even when he was held captive at the abandoned town. She doesn't say or gesture anything, unsure of what the healers orders were for him.

The silver sith-makar was one of the small group that had entered the room. She was not used to the Elunan temple, other than a few brief visits, so the direction was appreciated. She enters the small room and waits at the door, more like an attendant than a visitor. But the state is worrying, and she cannot hide her concern.

Aya follows the bluescale inside. Back inside, in fact. Just when she thought she'd nearly escaped... she winds up not far from the small chamber recently offered to/insisted upon her.

Her following is rather distant, as Zeke travels far faster than she at present. The wall assists her in support en route. When she does arrive, the room may well be filled. That is some excuse to wait at the doorway. It also allows her to remove the excessive straw hat. No offense to Aryia's generosity.

Pale blue eyes open at the familiar step-tap, and look over. Seldan blinks a few times, but the eyes hold at least partial coherence, and he starts to push himself up gingerly to one elbow, the blanket falling down to reveal a shoulder and top of chest marked with a number of complex art pieces, a collage of sorts. The mountain of Khazad-Duin. Some sort of monkey-like animal with a very fluffy tail, the tail wrapped around his arm to end at the bicep. A set of stone arches, flags a-flying. "Kin," he answers hoarsely, but it is to the others that his eyes go, and remain. "Forgive me, my - our," he nods to Aya as he recognizes her, "last journey was - difficult. How - may I be of service?"

Zeke settles the tea service on the stand beside Seldan's bed. It has many cups on it for the guests. In case they are staying. Zeke is not totally sold on the idea as of yet. The blue-scale sits down on a stool at Seldan's bedside and looks the other man over with the eyes of a healer. "You have no need to apologise Sseldan. They come not with need of your ssservisce but rather to wisssh you well. Relax." This last is almost an order gentle though it may be. He gives a firmer look to those gathered just inside the room. A look that clearly says that if they make a nusiance of themselves in any way he will deal with them sharply. Then returns his gaze to Seldan. "Thisss one brought a very light tea, sssomething calming to the ssstomach. Will you try it kin?"

Aryia raises a hand in a little wave as Seldan notices them, but she shakes her head at any sort of service. Though he may not understand it, she still gestures, "You can serve that bed and go right back to resting." Seems her time with the Red Knight has rubbed off on her. She doesn't blame Aya though, the temple was already dim enough for the two of their kind. <Handspeech>

The mute elf nods at Zeke voicing their wishes. Though, she watches on, still worried.

Seyardu shakes her head from the door. "There is nothing to be forgiven, silverguard. And there is no service to be given, save for what you may need." She says.

"You can serve by remaining in bed," Aya notes, calling somewhat louder to be heard from the door, not so loud as to be disruptive, and rather more hoarse than she expected. It isn't an exact translation from Aryia, but should echo enough... well, the general sentiment of all.

It is her own, personal, addition that follows, somewhat more quiet, "If I am to be bedbound here, it would be exceedingly rude for you to galavant around, Silverguard."

"Fear me not, Aya. Once have I felt Zeke's wrath, and I - have no desire to repeat the experience." Seldan's smile is faint, but amused, holding no rancor at all, and he allows himself to lie back, his features twisting in a wince as his head hits the pillow again. "Agh. I shall not defy my - kin and healer." He sounds at once hoarse and strained. "I - think that I shall be well with tea."

Zeke chuffs at the commentary on himself as a healer. His amusement has his tail swishing quite pleased behind him and he moved to pour some tea for Seldan. He does not immediately hand this to the sick man, but rather sits it at his bedside and then glances toward the rest of the people gathered. "Would any of you care for tea? Thisss one brought enough for all. You can sssit down, and ssshare wordsss with Ssseldan. Though... Thisss one would have a word firsst."

Aryia shakes her head at the offer and holds up a hand, her taking a step out of the room to join the group at the door. There was a bit too many people crowding around for her, doubly so as it seemed Seldan needed some much needed rest. She gives a little wave in departing and taps Aya on the shoulder, her jabbing a thumb over her shoulder towards the room the recovering mul had been staying. Looks to be an offer to help her back should need be.

"I am alright, but thank you for the offer. There is fresh water with my lunch that should be consumed regardless." She replies, and waves off the offer. She waits at the door, waving to Aryia before she departs, and looks at the door.

"I can wait outside, if you would speak to Seldan first. I do not know what to say myself."

Aya turns from facing in the door to down the hall as Aryia steps out and taps her. Her lips purse as she considers returning to The Room. "I would wait to speak to the Silverguard when Zeke is finished."

After that affirmation, a thought strikes a moment later. "Your hat..." Aya straightens from the wall and extends out her arm to offer the hat... and promptly tips over until her shoulder returns the wall. This prevents her from falling, though she appears to grow shorter as her knees buckle and she slides slowly down the wall along that shoulder.

"On second thought, perhaps that is not a terrible idea..."

Alarmed, Aryia quickly steps forward to hoist Aya back up to her feet, her slinging an arm over her shoulder while plucking the hat out of her hands. She dons the straw hat and gestures to everyone, "I got her." With that, the two muls head back to the room.

"As you will," Seldan speaks quietly, eyes in the direction of the door. They may or may not hear him, but his eyes move to, and remain on, Seyardu. "Hearthguard - were you able to rescue - any of the statues?" He still sounds strained, and shivers a little, but his eyes remain focused, alert, and fixed on the silverscale, with only a glance at Zeke, figuring that he is likely preparing tea.

Zeke almost gets up to help Aya, but Aryia has her, and the two leave. He pours a second cup of tea for himself since no one else is inclined, and then sets the tea and the tea pot down. In spite of the fact that he has stated that he has word for Seldan, he allows this question that Seldan has, knowing that the curiosity is likely driving him mad. He holds his own statements for Seyardu's reply.

Seyardu looks as Aryia escorts the other Mul'niessa out of the room with a sigh. But the question makes her turn her attention back to the bed, and she leans against the wall of the room, weighing each word, how much she should say. But there was anger, frustration and sadness in the air, for certain.

"The warehouse has been checked, and cleared. There is noone left there." Is all she says.

The response tells enough, and Seldan closes his eyes against that anger and frustration, turning to reach for the tea on his bedside table. The cloth on his forehead slips away as he moves, sliding to the floor in the blink of an eye, but he barely seems to notice, instead using his free hand to slowly sit up to drink it, pressing his lips together hard as he does so, unruly ginger hair falling loose to frame his face.

The blanket falls away into his lap, revealing a muscular body that he just about never allows to be seen unclothed. What is visible is that there is more of the collage-style art, all the way down into the blanket. Much more, depicting a tremendous variety of subjects. Places, people, things, creatures, all with life-like shading and detail, as if the artist had witnessed it themselves. It covers most of his chest, shoulders, and sides, and parts of his back, but down his spine and across his back at heart-level is a much more deliberate and simpler set. Arcane and divine symbols, with the crescent and sphere of Eluna at his center, from neck to tailbone. It is separated from the others by entirely clear skin, an eerily precise border.

He sips, very slowly and very carefully, his eyes closed in concentration. "There is no sign of their - destination?" he asks finally.

Though Zeke is carefully, and very seriously observing Seldan, he does take a moment to pick up the cloth that falls to the ground. In fact. He takes that opportunity to gather the one on the back of the man's neck also. He puts them both in a basket meant for dirty laundry and rifles through the small stand for clean ones. When he's retrieved two new cloths he uses the water in the basin to wet them, and putters around back to Seldan and sits down. Once he is seated he presses the cool compress to the back of Seldan's neck; since the man is sitting up this is somewhat easier, and then he moves the pillows behind the man to better support him. "Sssit back. Take it easssy." He murmurs quietly, so as to not interrupt more than necessary.

Seyardu finally steps away from the wall, the need to assist more important at the moment. She steps to help move the pillows and coverings until they were sorted.

"This hurts? Tell Zeke, or show him, so he can tend if needed." She asks, taking another step back, to stand against another wall. The silver sith-makar sighs. "Only for the final shipment. It is going to the estate of someone, in Charn. And no one thought this suspicious." They say.

"My head only," Seldan answers shortly, with a shake that starts quickly, adds a wince, and ends much more slowly. "A Charneth estate. That is - well to know." With the pillows adjusted, he leans back, taking another slow, careful pull of the tea, shivering as the cool compresses touch his skin. "Alexandria's guards are fools, those of them at least that are not corrupt. No few accept bribes, and some use their position - to serve personal vendettas." Siiiiiip. "We - must do what they will not." Finally, he sinks into the pillows, sipping again. "It is - little surprise - that Ec would find allies in Charn. Especially if it is bodies he wants."

They have done the best for Seldan as they can do, but Zeke still looks concerned, his green eyes full of his worry, and his scent which Seyardu is aware of full of concern. "That issss what thisss one wanted to ssshare wordsss with you about Sseldan." Zeke says gently. "Thisss one thinksss... That you ssshould leave Alexandria for a time. Not immediately, but when you can move. You ssshould take a... vacation."

"Apologies, this one did not wish to bring it up. It is not something to worry your mind with while you are recovering." Seyardu notes, and sighs. "Do not move your head unnecessarily. This one can see if there are any braces, if you would use one for your recovery."

Seyardu nods to Zeke. "Perhaps, yes, some time away would be best. This one would simply pile more worries on, which I do not wish to do. If you remain here."

The admonitions not to move or sit up fall on deaf ears at the suggestion that Seldan leave and take a vacation. "What? Kin, I cannot abandon those who fight. I am no weakling coward, to flee at such great need." He sits up again, this time ignoring the ice pick of pure evil that lances from temple to temple and stays there. "I understand the concern, and yet do so few stand."

The compress once again tumbles to his lap, this time falling wet on the blanket. He picks it up, holding it in one hand and staring down at it, clearly torn.

Zeke lifts his claw, touching Seldan's hand where it holds the damp compress. "Do you think thisss one would call you weak? After your battle with sssuch evil, and your sssurvival? Or a coward after you have fassced ssuch time and again? Or do you think that thisss one ssseesss sssome-thing elssse? A man injured, in need of healing that can not come when he sssitss amid a war?" Zeke looks at Seldan. "You can not heal and fight in the sssame moment. If you are here, you will try to fight no matter your condition. You will fight yourssself to death. Let othersss sstand. Thisss one. Sseyardu, the othersss. You mussst /heal/."

"Seldan, you can leave due to the need." Seyardu says, bowing her head. "You need to heal, time to think. So that when the need for you does come, you will be ready, and at your best. But you need to rest and recover."

"Please trust us, Seldan, you have those you can rely on in your absence. But those same people care about you. It seems you, and Aya, have been through much."

In what probably isn't the best of timing, there comes knocking on the small room's door. It's just a few taps, really. At least initially. Before being followed up by a trio of slightly more insistent, if still polite, knocks.

Seldan's shoulders slump, a war clearly going on behind those eyes - sharp things and all. He presses his lips together tightly, fingers tightening around the damp compress, uncertainly. "Mal does not - wish me to return at all, and yet must I do so," he manages, staring down at the half-empty teacup in his other hand. He resembles one fighting to remain upright, and finally relents, taking another long draw of his tea, setting the cup back down, and lying back against the pillows with a soft sigh of relief. "Truly - are there few enough I can rely on, that will neither turn on me, nor act rashly nor foolishly, nor-"

He looks over at the door at the tap on it, and pulls the covers up so that he is at least mostly covered. Never mind that the covers are now damp, as is his hand.

Zeke nods in understanding. "Thisss one knowsss there are few you trussst. But you are important. It issss... our duty to ensssure you do not kill yoursself in the effort of fighting alone." Zeke sighs and rises to his feet, letting go of Seldan's hand and movning to the door. He opens it, but does not allow immediate entry into the room. Instead he looks to see who it is and only then relents slightly. "Peasssce on your nessst. Thisss one mussst asssk what buisssniesss you have with Ssseldan, for thisss one iss in charge of hisss care, and doess not wisssh him dissturbed with-out reassson."

Halani takes a half step back, craning her head up at the sudden appearance of Zeke in the doorway. Her eyes widen for a moment, then a grin splits her face and she holds up a folded letter, sealed in wax. She has a small sack slung over her shoulder, held with her other hand. "So he /is/ here, yeah? I was asked to deliver this from the temple.. the Grey Lady. Well, I volunteered," she rambles on. "I mean, they asked some of us, and since I sort of know him I asked to do it. I had to ask around a little bit once I got here, yeah? Took a bit, but..." She pauses, leaning sideways, trying to look around Zeke on one side, then the other. "He is here, yeah?"

"You can trust me, or not, but I trust you, Seldan. I understand, that this is dangerous. Which is why you need to recover." Seyardu states. "Please take some time for yourself. We will manage."

She too looks to the door, but she lets Zeke handle the newcomer. They would answer how they wished.

Seldan looks towards the door at the voice, murmuring, "Mistress Halani." There is no distress in the words, only recognition and mild confusion. He lifts his hands, carefully folding the compress again and placing it on his own forehead, relaxing finally back into the pillows, lips turned down into a deep frown. "I - would not be thought of as less," he murmurs.

A hand comes to rest on the wet spot on the blankets, and almost automatically, he raises a hand to draw a sigil in the air, a simple cantrip to dry the blanket, but as he speaks the first words, he jerks, stops abruptly, and releases the spell at once, pressing his lips tightly together to keep from swearing. That clearly hurt, and badly. "Even so?" he murmurs. "The Sea - yet burns." He grits his teeth.

Zeke steps back from the door. "You may deliver your letter, but thisss one assksss that you do not dissturb Sseldan more than you mussst. Nor quesstion him forscefully. He isss healing." He turns toward Seldan and winces when the man tries to cast his spell, and moves toward the bed. "Sseldan... A little water doess not hurt you. Leave it be." His chiding is gentle, and he shakes his head at his kin. "If it botherssss you, thisss one will change the blanket out." Now there is a question in his gaze, curious if he should exchange Seldan's blankets for fresh. Softskins can be odd about being in less clothing around others.

Halani's grin broadens.. then she puts two fingers to her brow and bobs her head before slipping past Zeke once there's enough room. "I'll be quick," she promises.. though she falters a bit when she actually gets a better look at Seldan. A moment to absorb it.. connect what she sees with the concern in the voices of the two Sith, some of the words they've said... so she tones it down a little bit. The sack swings around as she puts her hands together and bows over them to Seldan. "Sorry to bother you, just that some of the mourners there wanted me to deliver this letter. And some baked food.. bread, I think there's cookies.. one of the mourners, she's a bit of a weird one, yeah?" She does her best to stay out of the actual way of Zeke.

"Seldan, you need to rest. You do not need to do everything yourself." Seyardu sighs, watching as he tries to dry the blanket. She looks to the delivery, and nods. "That is kind of them to do so. I hope that will enjoy them." She says to Halani

"Your first response upon our arrival was to ask if we needed help. Please do not hurt us in an attempt to be stoic."

Seldan looks - straight _bad_. His color is alarmingly pale even for him, and his eyes are now closed, although the direction he turns his head in the dimly lit room suggests that he is still aware of people around him. He shakes his head very gently to Zeke, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders in a gesture clearly intended to say _leave it_. "That is - kind of them," he murmurs quietly, sounding strained. "And you have my thanks for bringing it. Forgive me, it is dim in here. Perhaps you might be willing to read it?"

Zeke knows when to leave well enough alone, so he takes Seldan's hints and stands near the stool, looking at Halani. "No food yet." He rumbles quietly. "But the thought isss appreciated, thisss one isss sssure." He blinks and looks at the tea, but shakes his head. It is enough that Seldan got one cup into his body. Pressing for more is unwise. His own has been forgotten for long enough to be cold now.

Halani initially starts to hand the letter to Seldan.. but when he asks her to read it, she falters. She looks awkward for a moment, looking at the letter, each of the Sith.. the man in the bed. Then she clears her throat. Latching on to something Seyardu said. "Oh, I think he will. They're really very good cookies, yeah?" She shuffles over to the side, placing the sack beside the wash basin. And then she's still left with the letter. "Uh.. yes! I can read it to you."

After scraping the seal off of the paper, she unfolds it and holds it up. She squints at it for a moment, then puts her finger to it. "Okay. Um. Silverguard Seldan, Defender of the... wow. You have a lot of honorism. Bada dada dada.. information for you.. lana nana.. final count is seventeen mostly complete bodies, with parts from at least three more. There's a list of names here, too. Sylvie Cobbler, Maxwell Forsythe, Unter. Just the one name for that one..."

Seyardu sighs, closes her eyes and takes a step closer to the door. They were saddened, now, by the response, by the letter shared, whose contents she could likely make out the purpose of. "This one will go, while you discuss the letter. Apologies, enough has been said and shared by myself."

Seldan does not open his eyes as he listens, but the way in which he seems to simply - deflate - says that he clearly understands its topic, and his shoulders tense. It's the list of names that gets him, though, and he tucks his chin down, his eyes lowering somehow. "Eclavdran, truly shall I see you thrown back into the pit whence you belong." He does look up and open his eyes, though, when Seyardu turns to leave. "Peace upon your nest." Suddenly, somehow, the last words are something very close to his usual formal, polite self, his tone even, if quiet and raspy, and he turns back, saying nothing further until the Hearthguard has departed. "Mistress Halani, I had thought to warn you, but our paths did not cross. Eclavdran has returned, and he means to build - a body. A body that will permit him here on Ea the full measure of power he wields in the Hells."

"That... is quite enough." Zeke says of the letter. She gets to the third name before he realizes its a litany of the dead and holds his claw out for the letter. His own voice is touched by emotion but its difficult to say what emotion. He looks at Seldan and his eyes darken. "For thisss reassson you mussst lisssten to thisss one kin. Thiss one doesss not assk you to abandon the caussse. But asssksss you to give your body time to heal the damage done to it. If the leassst ssspell sssapsss you sso... caussess pain... how can you fight Eclavdran?"

Halani does indeed stop at the third name. Maybe it's Zeke. Maybe it's Seldan's reaction. Maybe it's a dawning realization of just what the words she's been lining with her fingertip are. She steps to the side, making sure she is out of Seyardu's way, watching the silver sith for a few seconds before she lowers the paper. "I'm sorry, I didn't... " And then the name. Eclavdran. Her complexion pales, the letter gets crumpled up as the hand holding it curls into a fist. An unsteady fist. "No." She starts to shake her head, back and forth. "No, no, no.."

Seyardu was at the door long enough to catch the farewell. "Peace on your nests, all of you. Please, at least listen to Zeke, Seldan, if you will not listen to myself." She says in farewell, quickly leaving, before she was overwhelmed again by the goings on. She would deal with her lunch later.

Zeke sees Seldan about to sit up and stops him with a claw to the shoulder. A gentle reminder that the Silverguard's body is not ready for such things. He steps, moving himself somewhat between Seldan and Halani. It's an unnecessary instinctual guarding position. "Halani, you mussst gain control of yourssself." He speaks low and calm, to keep her from falling to panic. "Or you mussst leave."

Seldan's eyes had flown open at the first _no_, and he shifts in the bed as if to try to help -

But, Zeke is quicker, and anticipates him. There's only a breath where he considers resisting that claw, but sinks back into the bed at the pressure from it instead. "Mistress Halani, do not panic. You are not alone." The words from the sith-makar have not been forgotten, though. "I ... will return as soon as I may. My kin - has the right of it. I cannot face him as I am. I must - ask your patience. I shall not - abandon you."

Halani keeps shaking her head the space of a few breaths, then presses her eyes closed. Breaths become deeper, perhaps steadier. Then she slowly uncurcles her fingers. The vardaman missive gets straightened, carefully and deliberately smoothed though the creases remain permanent.. and it gets set beside the delivered baked goods. She swallows, and if it takes more effort than usual.. well, it is hard to blame her. She turns her head to look at the pair, all of her positive attitude from earlier gone... but she nods. "I will go," she says finally, responding to Zeke's suggestion. Demand. Then she turns to seldan, putting her hand in her fist and bowing her head over it. "Swift recovery, Silverguard. And thank you for the warning."

Zeke nods acceptance of that. "Ass Sseldan sssayss. You are not alone. Thisss one will be here if you need any-thing." He has his attention on Seldan however. Already he is moving to clean up the mess. The basket of goods that will need to be given to someone who can eat them. The tea which needs to be removed. "You ssshould ressst Ssseldan. Thisss one can tell that you grow weary." He straightens, his work done, and his hands full of the various things he will take with him. "If you have need of any-thing, simply tell thisss one."

Seldan has closed his eyes again, but his shoulders and neck hold telltale tension. "That shall I do. Perhaps ... douse the lights? This is - worse than backlash. Perhaps the bread may go to another in need. I ... have no desire of it, now." And is unlikely to keep it down, never mind the cookies.

-End