"Hmm." 

More uneasy looks are exchanged. 

And then a slim green-robed figure comes sprinting out down the path toward them. 

"Randi! Savil! We have a problem!" 

What is it this time, Cam does not say again.

Randi's breath bursts out. He does not refrain from saying his thoughts out loud. "Shavri. What now." 

She reaches them and slows, panting. "We can't find Van." 

"What?" Savil forges forward, looking like she wants to grab Shavri and shake her and is just barely restraining herself. "He was bedridden! Where could he have gone?" 

"I don't know! But he's not there anymore!" 

Oh jesus. Forensic conjuration to the rescue: Van and surroundings?

Slipping away from the Healers isn't hard. They're having a chaotic time - everyone is - and Andrel didn't actually have any context on the interrogation Vanyel just went through, and so when Vanyel pleaded exhaustion and just wanting to be alone to nap, he didn't protest. 

Farsight makes it easy to track down the bottle of sleeping pills that Cam gave the Healers; Vanyel got a look at it last night, when Andrel was telling him he couldn't have more yet. 

Fetching makes it just as easy to nip it away from the desk at the centre station while no one is looking, and put it right back. After he's dumped the entire contents into his hand. But hopefully they won't notice that for a while. 

He gets up, only a little unsteady, and stuffs pillows under the covers so at a quick glance it'll look like he's still in his cot. 

A sound-barrier makes it easy to conceal the noise he makes by opening the window and wriggling out. He falls headfirst into some flower bushes, which is uncomfortable, but barely registers next to everything else. 

Yfandes is gone. She's gone and now all of the Heralds hate him too and why would she even want to try to come back to him, given that -

- and it doesn't matter, anymore. For such a long time he's held everything together on the premise that Valdemar needs him. For the war. And for all the rest. For his awful, unwanted destiny. 

But he has no secrets left, anymore, and Cam is here and that changes everything. It almost doesn't matter who Leareth really is, or what he truly wants. Cam is stronger, and whatever Leareth is, he's never been stupid. He's not going to antagonize the incredibly powerful alien who he summoned. 

Maybe everything will be all right, in the end. 

For Valdemar. 

Not for Vanyel. It's too late for that. It's been too late for twelve. goddamned. years. 

It's raining. Vanyel barely notices, but it makes it a lot easier to reach the river unseen. By the time he makes it there, the drugs he swallowed are kicking in, and he's stumbling and swaying, the world fading in and out of focus. He trips and falls on something, and doesn't bother getting up, and just crawls instead. 

Cam's forensic conjuration finds Van on the edge of the storm-swollen river, clothing soaked and mud-smeared, on hands and knees in the sodden grass and muck. It looks like it's probably the river in Haven but his immediate surroundings don't say much about where. 

"- he's at the river somewhere and he doesn't look great, maybe some Companions should fan out and try to find where, I'm going to go look too -" Cam snaps his wings open, drops the diorama, gets aloft.

Now that he's finally here, it's - a lot harder than he expected, actually. The river looks cold and he's so tired and it feels much more pleasant to just lie down here in the reeds, go to sleep and never wake up - he definitely took a lethal dose of whatever-it-was - 

But they're going to be looking for him, and here he's too easy to find. 

He's too dizzy to even crawl properly, now, and the world is a smear of grey, but he follows the sound of rushing water, and sort of half-topples, half-rolls into it. 

It's just as cold as he expected. Which is almost soothing, in a way. Like the quiet icy resignation of the dream. Not quite peaceful, but...almost. The closest he's ever going to find to it, really, at least before he's in the Shadow-Lover's arms. 

He wishes he could have apologized to Savil. He hopes, distantly, that she'll understand. 

- the water buffets him, gritty with silt, debris banging into his numb limbs. And for a moment he's afraid, and struggles instinctively for the surface. But not very effectively, and not for long. He made sure of that. He had to; Yfandes made him learn how to swim. 

A final spike of grief/guilt/anger/bitterness. 

Yfandes, I'm sorry

You walked away first

But I'm still sorry 

- you promised - 

The Companions - those of them still in Haven, and functional, and not busy holding vigil at Tran's bedside - fan out and search. 

They don't see anything. ...Footprints, maybe, here? But it's hard to tell, in all the rain. 

Miles away to the south, Yfandes stumbles. Falls to her knees in the rain. 

They haven't been speaking, but this seems important. :'Fandes? What -: 

:Vanyel. Something - wrong - have to get back -: 

But she's pretty sure it's already far too late. She took too long. 

Savil reaches out with Mindspeech. :Cam do you see anything - we can't find him, where is he now -: 

:I don't see anything. Conjuration of him is wet, now, he must have gotten in the river, but I don't see where:

Savil is terrified but there's no room for that, now. :Can you swim? We have to - we'll look for him but it's dangerous - you're indestructible at least - Cam we have to find him -: 

:I can swim:

He soars downstream of the footprints, dives.

Savil reaches the riverbank at a dead run and doesn't hesitate. She reinforces all of her shields and dives. She's in her seventies, but still reasonably fit, and a good swimmer. Magic helps. 

...She can't find Van with Thoughtsensing. None of the Companions can. Either he's shielding, better than she knew he could, or he's - 

- she can't think it - 

She casts a mage-light underwater, bright enough to glare through the murky green-brown haze, and she throws fireballs with both hands, blasts herself forward with a burst of steam, and she searches, desperately, terrified - 

Vanyel floats limply in the current, and eventually there's an underwater log and his body catches against it, his tunic tangling on splintered branches. 

When the Death Bell rings, all of the Heralds know. 

Savil feels it in her bones, but it's not - it can't be too late - Van told them about the Shadow-Lover, he's come back before - 

She doesn't say anything to Cam. She keeps lighting up the riverbed as brightly as she can, and swims, and searches. 

Cam finds him. Drags him, with some effort, out of the river. Hits him with some blood oxygenation and starts CPR.

Savil gets word of this from a Companion - not even her Companion, her Companion ISN'T HERE - and flounders to the side of the river, exhausted, shaking, hands numb and useless from the freezing water. 

:Van - Vanyel - come on, you can do this, ke'chara -: 

But there's not really anything there to Mindspeak, anymore.