:The? Oh. My fault.: She didn't quite mean to send those next two words, but they sure did get sent, didn't they. Whatever, wallowing in failure is unbecoming and also completely pointless. The rush of guilt and and apologies and defensive arguments are shoved aside in favor of more important things. :Can I help?:

:I don't know–:

Pause. 

:Yfandes wants to know what your capabilities are. You - seem to have different Gifts than what we've seen before: 

:I'm a mesmer -: and then she sends an efficient information packet of what that means. She is an archetype of minds/illusions/concepts, delicate and weird even as delicate and weird casters go, all ephemeral concepts and mind games instead of something more tangible. :I specialize in/am a professor of meta-magic and the interactions between different types of magic, and (back home) I excel at quickly understanding novel magical phenomenon and subverting it when it gets dangerous/deadly.: 'Spellbreaker' is the unique title that His Majesty, King Reza of Orr, gave her, and she's still more than a little proud of having earned it. :I expect I can at least help you understand what's going on.:

Gala is silent for a moment, absorbing the shock of just how weird all of that is. It's kind of bouncing off; it's been a long day and now it's halfway through the night and she's exhausted and overwhelmed and stressed and terrified for her Chosen and his lifebonded. 

A different mind reaches out to answer. :...Can you please? We're - this is really overwhelming and different, we've never seen someone have their Gifts ripped open like this, and I can't even talk to him without hurting him: 

:Absolutely, where is he/where do you need me?: There's an edge of self-recrimination to her mind, at not having picked up that the crisis wasn't actually over, at not having figured out that her skills were useful the minute they could be leveraged. But frankly, she's too damn tired for hand-wringing. There is a problem in front of her, she will help fix it, it's who she is and what she does and it doesn't need to be any more than that.

A nonverbal burst of information conveys the route to Savil's suite, and a flashed image of a glazed door opening onto a garden patio. :He's in Savil's suite, here: 

Vetareh walks as quickly as is feasible without tiring herself out. On the way, she checks to see if the new terrifying quadruped she's talking to is aware of all of the lead up to this situation. :I might very well have the best idea of just what happened in that whole mess, where do our knowledge bases not match up?:

:Um, so - my understanding is that Vanyel and Tylendel - er, the one you stopped from Final Striking - were in a bad spot out there, under attack, and Tylendel was attempting a Gate using Van's life-force to help power it, and then you - arrived through it somehow, before it was even complete?: She is so baffled about that but lets it slide for now. :And then Gala died - 'Lendel, er, took it very badly and was about to do something idiotic - you stopped him, gods, thank you, we owe you so much...: 

She shakes herself. :And then you brought Gala back: also impossible but in the past, not the present emergency, so deal with it later, :and you all got through, and - you saw the Gate was draining Van and took it down? Which may be what ripped open all his potential Gifts. And...then something happened, I'm not sure what, and he tried to project at you, which is the point at which my Call firmed up and I am about to goddamned Choose my Chosen if someone will. Bring. Him. The hells. Outside: 

:I will bring him the hells outside for you,: sends Vetareh, firmly. She likes this terrifying quadruped immediately and rather intensely; she feels they are kindred spirits in this mess. She has no idea what a Chosen is or what Choosing is, but it's clearly important so she's just going to go with it. :All of that's correct, good.: There's some nuance missing, like how there's (? some kind of mind/magical connection?) between suicide-mage Tylendel and Vanyel. But none of that was wrong, which is the very important part.

She reaches the door, stepping around the terrifying quadruped with a small pat on the neck and another reaffirmation of her intentions to get him the hells outside, and then inside she goes.

Vanyel is now awake and sobbing in Tylendel's arms. 

Poor thing. She's very sorry about all of this.

"Vanyel, Tylendel," she says, because while she doesn't speak the language she does know their names, and then she motions with her head out of the door she stands on the threshold of.

And meanwhile, she sends Yfandes her assessment of just what is going on here. Vanyel's (? magic paths? archetype? limbs-of-magic?) look injured and like they're (the magical equivalent of bleeding, maybe?). Energy that the boy doesn't have much control over is flowing out of the injured ?pathways? by his whim, which is causing general mayhem, because wow this kid's magic is (? unprototyped? almost directionless? containing frankly way too many options that she doesn't even know what to do with, for sure!).

Then, there's whether she could do anything. There is absolutely nothing she can do about the injured ?pathways?, she's not a healer and wouldn't even know how to begin to heal that. Mitigating damage, though, that she can probably do. The obvious first idea is to magically exhaust him so he has no power to push out of the ?pathways?, but that's a temporary and imperfect solution. He can still magically thrash about with scraps of power, and it'd still hurt him. It'd be safer for everyone around him, but he'd probably be suffering just as much. Shielded room would be better. The next idea is trickier to implement, but a bit more promising. She could temporarily disrupt the (connection/pathway-to-the-pathway) that lets him touch his ?pathways?. It'll give him less ability to hurt himself, at least, which would likely be a mercy.

Vetareh doesn't have the spells available to do it right now, though. The ones she has at her disposal are (for the most part) too sharp, too full of teeth. Meant to ultimately stop and then kill something. Not likely to help in this situation. She'll need to switch, which will involve her being defenseless and available to be magicked at. That'll probably suck. She'll still do it, obviously, but she should wait to do it until after she's shielded or has a healer on standby or something, rushing off to just do the thing immediately would be dumb.

:Huh, you think you can...block his Gifts? That's probably the best thing we can do for him right now, actually, we just - don't have a way to do it that's not permanent: 

Tylendel looks confusedly at the woman, but eventually, with prompting from Gala as well, tries to haul Vanyel out of bed. 

Vanyel is deadweight and not helping with this process at all. 

Vetareh can help with this process of getting Vanyel the hells outside! She even said she would. Hup, Vanyel, you're going on an adventure. It's such a shame the martial specialists here are all apparently quadrupeds, this is definitely the kind of heavy lifting usually reserved for people that hit things for a living. Squishy caster brigade, go!

:I don't think I can perfectly block his Gifts, actually. The solution I'm thinking of lasts about five seconds. I just can cast it over and over and over: With pauses in between, which she'll cut back as much as possible with a trick she learned from her mother, but still. It's better than nothing at all, she thinks. :There's a spell that works longer, and I'd use that if he were a bit more directed in his power. But he has so many directions he can magically go that I don't think it'd even stop him. Can you get me shielded/protected/have a healer on standby if I get fried by this kid's pyrokinetics or something? I need to swap spells:

Vanyel is now clinging to Yfandes' neck. And shivering. It's still raining hard. 

:Help get him up on my back? We should, um, let me think - we should bring him to a Work Room, except I won't fit inside, goddamn it. We'll bring him to the stables and I'll put my shields on him and Kilchas is on his way, he can take you to a Work Room where you'll be shielded from him while you do your thing: 

:Sounds like a plan:

Squishy caster brigade, round two! Get Vanyel onto the quadruped's back! And presumably keep him there, since he doesn't look up to keeping his balance or reliably holding on by himself.

Tylendel will help keep him on from the other side, but he's swaying and stumbling with exhaustion, so it seems wise for Vetareh to stay close. 

The grey-haired man who brought her to her guest room before meets them outside the stables. :I'm sorry, apparently you don't speak our language: he says to her, this time in Mindspeech. :You need shields?: 

Yeah, Vetareh will babysit Vanyel to make sure he doesn't fall off of his quadruped.

:Yes, please: she replies, and even her magic feels foreign and strange. Her replies are coming in little efficient concept-packages more than a proper mindlink where he actually touches her mind. :I have a temporary fix for Vanyel, to separate his Gifts from his ability to touch them, but I need a safe place to acquire the tools to implement it, and it's not a long term solution. At all.: She then sends a concept-package of what her solution will entail; she'll need to be touching Vanyel, and she'll only partially be able to keep him cut off with extended attention and doing a boring spell over and over and over again like the stubborn madwoman that she really is. He'll average being cut off about nine seconds out of ten, maybe. And only while Vetareh is awake and has the patience to do a very boring thing for what is almost certainly going to be hours at best. Interestingly, energy doesn't seem to factor into her considerations of whether or not she could keep doing this.

:So ultimately I think he needs (a shielded place where he can be with his terrifying/lovely quadruped), and someone that can actually heal his Gifts. Because I can't. Separately he also needs control:

:Fascinating: He starts directing her down another path. :I suppose we should put him in a Work Room, but his Companion wants to be with him, understandably, so I think we'll have to embiggen the door on one of them. I can do that with magic and I guess I'd better go ahead and do it even though it's the middle of the goddamned night: 

She obligingly follows him.

:Yes, please. Thanks: Then she sends a general feeling of camaraderie, of how this is absolutely going to suck for every single person involved, and that she sincerely wishes him (strength/tenacity/being-like-this-god-of-fire-and-war, well known for being the most stubborn bastard her world has ever seen) in his efforts. Yep, middle of the goddamned night, it's raining, she literally just got here, let's go punch the problem's goddamn face in. Proverbially. Keep people safe and not screaming in agony, in practice.

Kilchas slaps her lightly on the shoulder. :I like you already. Here we are: He stops in front of a stone wall and unlocks a heavy wooden door. :This is my Work Room. It's very well shielded, he won't be able to do anything to you in there. Need a candle or anything?: