:...I know. And thank you, for asking:

That night -

pain

never ebbing only surging flaring growing every moment worse than the last

a burning river pouring through him into the void, ripping him apart and searing in his veins

nothing will ever be good again it will always be like this

She feels her mind trying to wake up and she rivets it in place. She will not turn her eyes away from this.

She wants to reach out, to soothe him, to tell him you are not alone i am here i should have stopped it i am so so sorry, even though she knows she can't, that this has happened already, she is too late to help, she will always be too late -

instead, she will do what she can do. She will bear witness.

The nights are thus. In the days, they ride. No more bandits make themselves apparent. It takes her seven days, in all, to get to Haven; three weeks since she left Marinsvalley.

One week after Sovvan, a young woman on Companionback rides through the palace gates.

She's greeted by a much older woman, also on Companionback, who inclines her head in greeting.

"Heya, girl. I'm Felicity, Queen's Own to Elspeth. Newly Chosen? I'm sorry to say we're having a hell of a time just at the moment. Ordinarily we'd try to have more of a welcoming party."

"Hello," Sufya says awkwardly. "I... am learning Valdemaran. May I - speak - Mindspeak, you."

:Oh, sorry. You didn't exactly look local but, well, assumptions. I was saying, I'm Felicity, Queen's Own, and we're fucked running twelve ways at the moment or else we'd try to pretend we weren't. - sorry, Mindspeech can be a bit more honest than I'm supposed to be:

Sufya giggles a little nervously. :I won't be precious about it. My name's Sufya, Sufya Milin, and - I guess I'm a Herald now, but - before I was a Herald I was headed this way already because I think I can help Vanyel:

:...where'd you hear that name?:

:In my dreams every night for the last sixteen years. - well, eleven that I can verify, I suppose:

:Huh. Foresight?:

:Not that I could tell. It comes after things happen. But - listen, I know he's here and he's hurting, and I think I can help him, please let me see him?:

Felicity squints at her.

:...it's not like you can realistically make him worse, not under supervision,: she allows. :Fine. But we'll stable your Companion first, he looks like he's been through the wars:

Her Companion (who must be Taver - his eyes are even stranger than Astirian's) turns and begins trotting towards the stables.

Astirian trots after. :He can wait a few minutes, Chosen: he reminds her. :More haste, less speed:

:I know. I'm just - so close. You know?:

As they approach the stables, Felicity's face loses the distant look of Mindspeech, and she sends to Sufya, :...I'm sorry if I seem... cautious. It's been a bad week for trusting people:

:...after Tylendel?:

:Yes. After Tylendel. We thought... fuck, if he couldn't keep it together he could at least refrain from turning half Leshara Holding to cinders. I'd have handed him the knife myself, if I knew the alternative:

Pause. :Sorry:

:I'm not... in the middle of it. It's fine:

:Astirian, do you need me to wash you, or can I leave it to the stableboy?:

:Leave it. I don't need affection more than Vanyel, right now:

Sufya dismounts and hands the reins to the boy, who leads Astirian into the stables cautiously. :I'm ready,: she tells Felicity.

Felicity settles her weight onto her feet and an intricately carved folding cane. :Follow me, then. Do you know how to shield yet?:

Sufya follows. :...no. Must I? I don't really want to be keeping secrets from him:

:It's not really a secret that he looks like death. It's still politer not to bring it to his attention: