Daryll nodded. “I’ll tell her. But let me have a quick bite first. Can’t be thinking about how to beat a literal god on an empty stomach. Now give me a rundown of what you might need her for.” “We’re basically thinkin’ of making a talisman, an anchor of sorts,” Gavin replied, before letting Daryll know what they had been debating over a few moments ago. “So we aren’t just relying on magic-suppressing wards for each of them?” the Wyvern scholar asked. Gavin shook his head. “Wards to suppress magic are one thing, Daryll, but we were debating on whether it might be better to kinda give them a bit more [i]something[/i] to help shake off Her mental influence on them. Kire might be a big enough of a flesh-and-blood figure to hold onto.” “I do understand Sid—you’re Sid, right? It’s been a bit of a whirlwind, we haven’t been introduced yet,” Daryll put in, before turning to the others again, “but yes, the concern about building an addiction is valid. Still, at this point, we need something that could beat Solaralai’s voice. And if there’s anyone who doesn’t want to be outdone, it’s my cousin.” He paused, starting on his breakfast while contemplating something. “Besides trying to help these people here, and trying to get Envy back, there’s someone else who might benefit from learning to control a new power. Lyta. The woman we had rescued from her family yesterday. She’s at Elva’s, and though it doesn’t look like her new ability is similar at all to the Goddess’s influence, it seems it is just as volatile, and tied to her emotional state. If there’s something that could help her temper that, this might be it. Maybe later we can test this on her too, at least after we’ve made some headway here.” “What did you say her thing was again?” Myka asked. “Uh. Moves objects with her mind.” Daryll gestured with one hand as he took a sip of coffee. “And from the way her family treated her, she always felt like she’s in a heightened emotional state; she was afraid she’d hurt us with the objects.” “Ooh, that’s neat—I mean, yeah that’s a lot for an ordinary woman to handle, but also, if she masters that, that’s a pretty handy thing to have,” Myka replied, trying not to look too intrigued by this knowing the girl had suffered a lot because of it. “I mean, wouldn’t you want a power like that?” “Magic’s like a wild horse,” Gavin muttered over his own mug. “You’ll have to tame it first. Or it kicks you in the face.” Daryll did look like he was contemplating Myka’s question though as he went on to finish his breakfast as quickly as he could without choking on his food. “Alright. I’ll go fetch Kire for you.” Kire stared at Zeltzin as workers helped prepare her own tent and tools to help her plan the temple, along with a crude map of the surrounding area. When the preparations were done, she wordlessly beckoned the priestess to enter. The Paladin tried to keep as neutral an expression as possible, even as her gaze betrayed how much she didn’t want to let the priestess out of her sight, didn’t want a single action to escape notice, as if the smallest of gestures from Zeltzin would summon Solaralai. After everything she had been through, she had always felt ambivalent at best and disdain at worst towards the gods and towards faith, though she did do her best to make sure her citizens felt free to worship who they wanted to. But watching Zeltzin work, seeing her placid expression, and especially hearing her pontificate about the wonders of Solaralai’s mercy, Kire remembered the moment that broke whatever faith she could possibly have in divinity: the day shortly after the Black Storm when funerary rites began for all those who had perished, including her mother and father. The priest had been some middle-aged Amrian not familiar to her—she presumed many of those that lived in the Capital were injured or dead. She had been too young, she knew, to preside over something like this, but she knew it had been her duty to appear adult enough. She knew the shell-shocked look in her eyes, the same emptiness of expression that had been captured in her royal portrait after the coronation, was apparent enough for all to see. The priest had droned on with some general words on grief, but what got seared into her memory was how he had talked about finding the blessing in disaster, that the gods must have had a [i]reason[/i]. Kire sighed, lips pursed, as she recalled a deep, burning hatred for the man in those moments, a great enough hatred that she had almost asked that they have the man locked up and executed for even uttering the words. The hatred abated when he stopped talking, and she had gone back to that gnawing emptiness that came with the great grief from her loss. [i]That was then, this is now,[/i] she reminded herself as Daryll entered the tent. [i]And like it or not, this priestess is your only lead.[/i] “They’d like to know if you can spare a moment,” he said. Kire pursed her lips, then glanced at Zeltzin, as if imagining she would burn down this new tent the moment she stepped outside. “[i]Has she done anything suspicious yet?[/i]” Daryll asked, sensing her unease. When Kire shook her head, Daryll beckoned her to step outside. “[i]The guards are watching her. And you’re needed. If she does anything, you won’t be too far.[/i]” Kire was still tense when she joined Ruli and the others, her thoughts circling around what Zeltzin must be doing in the tent. But seeing them gathered there, she sighed, resolved to focus on the task in front of her rather than worry about the damned priestess. Briefly, she let her gaze linger on Ruli, wanting to know how he was coping. He had been so distraught yesterday. She wished she could tell him that they’ll get Envy back, offer him more comfort now. She touched his hand briefly, gently squeezed before letting go. “Let’s get to work,” she said. “Daryll said you needed me?”