Sitting with Seldan

Log Info

• Title: Sitting with Seldan

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Seldan

• Place: Temple of Eluna

Temple of Eluna, evening.

It's a cold and bitter rain that reflects the current state of affairs for all who venerate the goddess of the moon. Yet there is one person who slips past the doors in a dark, dark cloak, obscuring her form and hiding her from the cruelties of those who might be harassing those coming to worship at the Temple of Eluna now. It's not until the doors close and the figure comes to walk further into the Temple that the hood drops, revealing the face and damp waves of hair of Cor'lana Lupecyll-Atlon. She has plenty of reasons to hide her face from the public now, but in this measure, in the house of both her beloved's favored goddess and one of her own favored two, she will show herself.

She takes a breath in and peers around the room. Not finding who she seeks out in meditation as she has before, she frowns. Normally she would choose to speak to someone of the Temple to guide her to him, but given the situation, and given that he has been hunted before--she can scarcely imagine that he would announce his presence freely here.

"Perhaps in the usual spot," she wonders.

That little isolated place in the library where she and Seldan have spoken before, perhaps. She goes there first; it seems to be a favored place of his.

The Temple itself is quieter than usual, with fewer faithful and fewer petitioners than is normally true. Only one Seer sits by the pool, but there is one thing present that she has not seen here in the past. At the four corners of the pool stand four new ivory statues - pillars, really, carved in miniature likeness of the mighty thirteen pillars of the moon that surround them in a circle, and yet different, for instead of the words of prophecy carved into their depths, they bear arcane symbols scribed across them.

She has, of course, seen such before - it is easy to recognize them, if one's husband possesses a set not so very unlike them. But - who left them here, and why here?

A trip into the depths of the libraries is challenged several times, but indicating that she is looking for Seldan will earn her an escort into the depths of the library, where the person in question sits alone, not in his usual spot, but in a small alcove in a different section, amid a set of deep blue meditation pillows. He sits cross-legged amid them, appearing to be entirely at peace, but neither weapons nor armor are anywhere to be seen. He wears only shirt, trousers, the robe and his holy symbol - he has even eschewed the boots - and the smell of a rich and complex incense lingers about him.

Cor'lana does quietly express her gratitude to the escort that she eventually does ask for, for while the third time into the libraries may be the charm--a saying that an enchantress, you would think, may appreciate--she has to acknowledge that there is only so much nosing through stacks that she can do here on her own. A wise woman knows her limits; the fool ignores them and keeps going. What she's quietly thankful for is that the escort does not loudly announce her presence nor disturb Seldan's activity, a thing that wears on her face as relief and gratitude as the escort walks away, leaving them alone.

She observes the scene for a moment. She's seen Seldan with his armor off very seldomly, especially in the wake of the dangerous times in which the world so often is embroiled in. Violet eyes flicker onto the missing boots, and she takes in the incense.

That's a familiar smell. A familiar smell indeed.

"Seldan, it's Cor'lana," she says gently. "May I be of aid to you in this time? I would be happy to at least sit with you for a while."

"Her light upon your path, my lady." Seldan opens his eyes, his gaze not on her, but past her - far past her, as if he sees things that are not present. Yet, he hears her, and understands, that much is clear. "Sit, if you will, though I am not good company. I am not in danger, and it is not the first time that the faithless have turned their back on that which they do not understand." The words are steady, even, as they always are, but distant, almost absent-sounding. "I shall be Her shield, as She has been mine from the beginning. I shall learn the truth."

I shall learn the truth. Words that, combined with the incense and the far-away look in his eyes, Cor'lana clearly seems to recognize, as it's paired with a knowing little nod. She sits near him. "A friend is always good company even if they are silent," she replies with a small smile. "Especially in a matter as important such as this. I came to help my friend, who I knew would already be in action--proven true, as I see you're casting a spell of lore-learning, one I am familiar with. Have you been attended to with food and water recently?"

She has one hand to her going to her pouch already where she ordinarily keeps food for Pothy. She, herself, does not snack--doesn't need to. "I'd be more than happy to retrieve something for you if you need it."

A boyish smile of relief comes to Seldan's lips as Cor'lana indicates that she knows what he is doing, and he relaxes, just a little, and becomes just a little more distant and faraway. His gaze goes to the far corner of the library. "I have eaten, though I know not the hour. They will not thank me to eat among the books." So he knows, at least vaguely, where he is.

She will know that he is very vulnerable - while he is aware of his surroundings, at least half of his consciousness is held by holding the spell as it searches the planes for the lore that he seeks. He is unable to fight, or do anything that requires his full concentration, or he will lose the spell, as it is complex and not for a beginning mage.

"Eluna did not slay Animus, although Her weapon was used to - commit the deed," he offers, his voice centering just a little more on the word weapon."

Cor'lana looks as though she's already plotting for a way to enable Seldan to have at least a little bit of food, but she also knows the spell well enough to know that the it permits some routine activity. He'd be able to at least move into a nearby room for a little bit of food and sleep. "I'll at least keep you company as long as I am able to do so. And to ensure that none interrupt your spell." It is a vulnerable state of mind to be in, and there is at least some peace of mind in knowing that someone else is here to sit and 'guard'.

Upon learning that Eluna's own weapon was used to slay the god, Cor'lana's eyes narrow slightly. Not at anyone or anything but rather at her own thoughts. "Then someone took it from Her," she replies softly. "Is it still missing, then?"

"It is that which I seek," Seldan answers absently, his steady words still very far away. "I am - grateful for the aid. I can navigate those areas of the temple - known to me." Meaning that he can find his way to the bathing pool, to the sanctuary, to his cell, and to here, which from the look of it seems to be where he chooses to hide out.

"I had not expected the aid, but you are kind," he admits, the absence more truthful than his usual guarded wont.

Cor'lana gives Seldan a soft smile then, something that's almost sad. "You have done much on your own," she says gently, "out of necessity or because there was no one else--sometimes one and the same thing. It's a lonely thing, a lonely venture, and I sought out your friendship to begin with because I saw someone who could use a friend. Although I venture you could do with a friend whose reputation is... not as colorful as mine." She can't help the little self-barb there, the little chuckle. "And being a friend means showing up when it counts. When I heard the news, I knew I had to come right away."

She looks thoughtful. "If it is Her weapon that you seek--I am certainly willing and able to help," she says. "In any measure that I can. Both for the Sky-Singer's sake and to aid a friend."

"This is not the first time too many of Her faithful have proven faithless and weak." Strong words from the fair-haired man, still sitting cross-legged among the pillows, staring absently across the room. "Those who stand with me, and with Her, and are true to the cause of the Light, are ever my friends, and their reputation be damned."

Wait, who is this Seldan? He continues to stare off into the distance, and falls silent, not responding to the offers of aid for a moment.

"When the casting is complete, I shall inform you of what I have learned," he murmurs."

Cor'lana is visibly taken aback, at first, but a sly smile spreads on her face. She has, only on a couple of occasions, seen the usual sort of carefully arranged verbal and facial defenses that Seldan usually wears fall down--and this might be the most severe instance she's seen yet. It's a privilege to be allowed here, to be permitted to be open and here in this vulnerable space and moment with him.

"Your candidness with me is most appreciated, Seldan," she says gently. "I will do everything that I can. It's easy to talk. Those without rigid spines tend to shy away from the doing. We are not fairweather faithful--and I am no fairweather friend."

Finally she nods. "If I am not visiting you when it is done, send for me--I will come right away."

"Yes. Do I come not to you." Still Seldan does not look at Cor'lana, or focus on her, but instead on a point far away. Through this whole conversation, he has barely moved a muscles, and it seems likely that he may need to be reminded to eat, when it is time. "The tale is greater, and it may prove the key to the preservation of magic itself. Keep ink and parchment close at hand, when you visit." Indeed, a sharp eye will spot an inkwell, quill, and several scrolls on a table not far from the pillows at all. The scrolls are entirely blank, and seem to await something. "Would you have your lord not know of this?"

"You mean the lord of my heart?" Cor'lana asks with a small smile after she acknowledges the writing utensils and materials nearby. "My husband and I are connected by constant mental link; all that I know, he knows. Given that he is a most fervent follower of Ni'essa, I have no doubt that he will wish to rise to the occasion to aid in finding Her lost weapon, should you be willing to take his help in addition to my own."

She eyes Seldan a moment longer, seeming to make a mental note about the fact he does not move at all. "I suspect that I will be sitting with you for some time to come today," she replies, "if only to ensure that you get something to eat later. I'm told this spell is one that is easy to lose grasp on time. I gave Telamon food and water at regular intervals when he was casting it some time ago."

"As you will. I am not now in need. I welcome your company, do you offer it, though I shall not be good company to you." Indeed, his distance and silence make that clear enough, and already his attention appears to be wandering. The interesting part is that he does not appear to have other assistance to hand, even among the Temple followers. They seem to know where he is, and know not to interfere, but judging by the absence of those nearby and the quietude of the temple, none watch him.

It's an odd thing to observe, how Cor'lana's friend is not watched, not assisted, not helped. To see how this man who occupies such a cherished spot in Cor'lana's mind is isolated even within his own Temple, to watch him in the vulnerable moment of spellcasting--doing the work of his goddess to save his goddess, to See to save the Seer--

And yet none other who serve the Goddess are helping Seldan.

Cor'lana's mouth presses together into a little line. She remembers a place, a house, a self-made prison. Even with her mother living there with her, even with Pothy living there with her, she hardly ever left, never had a friend or anyone to call on save her mother and her beloved little brother in the form of a bird. It was lonely then, even with all of the people passing by the house. It was even lonelier when her mother died and when her memories were stolen from her, when Pothy became a stranger.

It's not the same. But it reminds her of that time. His solitude reminds her of that loneliness, that ache. But she would have done anything for a friend to sit with her then in her loneliness. Even if all that friend did was to occasionally get her to eat and to drink. That would have been something. That would have been enough.

"You are perhaps one of the the strongest men I know," Cor'lana says gently, without really even thinking. "To do what you have done up until now--so often on your own. But you are not alone in this instance, this moment and in others beyond."

She smiles. "Don't worry. I'll just sit and work on my poetry," she adds. It's a little thing, like her presence.

Perhaps the scariest thing about the lack of attention paid to Seldan is that he accepts it at face value. It does not appear to surprise or anger him, to draw his focus or his thoughts. It is as if it is something that is, and he knows that it is. Perhaps that is the spell-induced distance. It is hard to say.

"I am not alone," he answers briefly, at last shifting in his posture, at least a little. "For She stands with me, and ever has She done so. I but repay the faith, and the favor, and may I do so in kind." He readjusts the pillows beneath him, and resumes a slightly different meditative posture. He does not speak again, for some hours, and does not speak unless spoken to. When he does, it is with great distance, and he does indeed need to be reminded to eat. The spell ends up lasting for days, days that are much like this one.

"May we both," Cor'lana answers with a small smile. After that, she simply provides company. Sitting with him for hours until she feels it's time to get the man some food and something to drink.

She doesn't stay with him the entire time--she chooses to come back home to Telamon and to Pothy to sleep--but she'll assuredly come back again to stay with him for more hours.

Someone has to stand with Seldan, after all. Or, in this instance, sit.