The armchairs in the library were much better for sitting in sideways than the one in Cyrus's workshop. Perhaps he should consider nicking one of them—he doubted anyone would bother to confront him about it.
For now, though, he was perfectly content where he was, legs dangling over one arm of the chair, back pressed into the other. Pia purred steadily from her spot draped around his neck—she seemed to enjoy the vantage. He wasn't inclined to move her. Something about the continuous soft rumble helped him focus. White noise. He hated it when things were too quiet.
Flipping a page in the book settled in his lap, he reached up with his free hand to rub at the base of her ear, satisfied when her volume increased accordingly. If only people were so easy to please. Hooking his fingers in such a way that his knuckles cracked, he settled slightly deeper into the chair. Rivaini was not his favorite language. He'd have to keep a list of terms to double-check with Stellulam. Or perhaps Zahra, though he wasn't sure how many technical academic terms she would know. Cyrus was always willing to be surprised.
Vesryn did not make a habit of walking quietly, and so he was rather easy to notice when he entered the library. That, and his appearance in general tended to make him stand out, even when he wasn't wearing that white lion pelt over his armor. He wasn't in any armor at all currently, simply dressed for the warmth, or lack thereof. He paused behind the back of an armchair across from Cyrus, wearing a delighted little grin.
"Well, you two make a lovely couple." His eyes fell on the cat around his neck. "Will it hurt your reputation if too many people see you being this adorable?"
“Oh, without a doubt, unless perhaps I can get her to look more menacing, so that we might be the evil magister and his nasty minion. I'd hate to disappoint my loathful public." Cyrus lifted both eyebrows as if alarmed by the very idea, marking his place in the book and closing it over carefully. He lifted his shoulders, a bit more carefully than he usually would in deference to his passenger.
“May I ask what brings you by this afternoon?" The library was a bit of a trek from Vesryn's usual stomping grounds, after all. Cyrus had a feeling he knew the answer—he was only really sought out for one thing as a rule.
"Not books, I'm afraid." Vesryn removed and folded up his cloak, circled around the armchair, and sank into it. "I was hoping to ask you about something, perhaps not the easiest subject." He paused, having obviously not rehearsed the question in his head before arriving. "About Redcliffe, when you were... warped into the future or some such. You encountered me there."
That part obviously needed no confirmation. Cyrus had told Vesryn as much, in his initial poorly-handled series of questions about Saraya. So an elaboration was in order. He knew that immediately, and yet several seconds passed in silence. Pulling a breath in through his nose, Cyrus forced his thoughts into some semblance of order, doing his best not to linger on the memories themselves, but only the information they contained.
“Yes." He sighed a bit. “They'd performed more than one magic-assisted lobotomy on you, from the head scarring."
"Head scarring?" Vesryn repeated, making somewhat of a disgusted face. "How barbaric. I wonder how they learned of her..." He frowned, raising a hand to his face and gently tapping on his lips with a finger. "Did I make it clear what their aim was? If they succeeded?"
Cyrus dipped his chin in a subtle nod. “Extraction. I... wasn't in much condition to be asking for anything further, but your words were 'tried to take.' I surmise they failed, and also that they killed her. You'll forgive me for saying so, but your form was considerably less than it usually is, even accounting for a lack of practice." Cyrus hadn't been thinking about much at the time, his natural broadminded curiosity narrowed to a razor's edge of focus. Thinking about it now, there were many more questions he should have asked. Much more information he should have gleaned.
He could have learned a great deal about Corypheus's plans, if he'd been of the correct mindset. But his emotions had overruled him, and left them all blind as a result. It was not his proudest moment. And the sting seemed only to grow more bitter as time passed and he more fully understood the magnitude of the opportunity he had lost.
"Well, that's not surprising," Vesryn remarked grimly. "Months of torture and experimentation will do that to a man, and I expect I didn't have much left to stay in form for." He seemed to contemplate that for a moment, a thought which obviously brought him no small amount of discomfort, but he then shook his head, pushing it aside.
"Also not surprising that these Venatori would dabble with dangerous magic without a care for the consequences. That they tried to remove her suggests to me that it's possible, that they failed evidence that it's difficult to do. Do you believe there might be any way to do the opposite? To strengthen our ties?" He seemed to be very much hanging on the answer to the question. "I've been looking at the sketch Estella made of her a great deal lately. I've always wondered what her voice would sound like."
He smiled suddenly, as though a funny thought had occurred to him. "I suspect she thinks her undoubtedly sultry tones irrelevant, and that the words she could speak to me would be far more valuable. Here we'll have to agree to disagree."
Cyrus laughed at that, a smile temporarily remaining on his face even when it had passed. “I recall that project of hers, yes. She was quite troubled to get the rendition correct, but apparently Saraya's appearance blurred when apprehended directly." He'd helped with some of the finer facial details, but he didn't bother saying as much. It wasn't important.
“As to your question..." Cyrus passed his tongue over his teeth, scratching absently at his jaw. “I've spent some time thinking about this. Research is very limited on spirit-corporeal bonds, you understand, and there are other factors that make your case quite different from even those." With the disclaimer out of the way, he was free to get to the good part.
“But. I don't believe it's impossible. Well... strictly speaking, I think very few things are impossible, but strengthening your bond is something we should be able to achieve without much more than we already have at our disposal." His words took on a more rapid cadence as he warmed to his subject, and he sat up a little straighter, unconcerned with the slight nick as Pia used her claws to stabilize herself on his shoulder.
"Do you think my not being a mage will make this more difficult?" Vesryn asked, thoughtful. "Saraya and I have come to believe that it can't help matters any, my not being able to work with the Fade as she can, and... certain parties I've encountered agree." A thought seemed to occur to him, a rather dark one judging by the shift in his expression. "I wonder if the Venatori thought that wretched corrupted lyrium might help with something."
“It's quite likely." The red lyrium part was, at least. “All of you had been exposed to it, and your damage was among the most extensive. But in truth, without the right information, I don't think your being a mage would make all that much difference. She's not a conventional spirit, but the consciousness of a living person. She does not come from the Fade, and as such, an increased connection between yourself and the Fade may have made no difference at all." Cyrus shrugged. He would have preferred to know more than he did, of course; it was difficult to control for variables he could not identify. But the situation was what it was.
He was trying to remember that he was working with real people here, and while that made things messy in ways that laboratory experiments were not, the significance was also... more. This mattered, and not merely in the abstract.
“The process of extracting her mind from her body was quite likely magical, and strengthening the connection will probably involve magic. But that is no great obstacle. You'll have my help, after all." One side of his mouth tugged upwards; that had sounded rather self-important, hadn't it? Ah well.
“Now. Our Spymaster and the diminutive engineer have done a bit of work with red lyrium. It's essentially the opposite of the normal sort, in functional properties. So if it can have a negative effect on the bond, it stands to reason that strengthening may require ordinary lyrium. I can look into this, if you like, but it will take some time." Pulling his legs underneath him, he drummed his fingers on his knee.
“The other option, of course, is to let me walk in your dreams. Anything that is conscious can dream. Well, save dwarves. Saraya is conscious. It follows that she can dream. There is a chance I could find her via yours. However." He raised an index finger. “I do feel obligated to express that it would be a risk. She is not originally of the Fade; she may interact with it in ways I cannot predict."
"Actually," Vesryn interjected, "she does not dream." It looked to be something of a pained admission for him, as though he thought it were a rather terrible thing that she was unable to do. "I figured that much out a while back when I wondered why we never shared dreams. Why I never found her in mine. She... never sleeps, not even when I do. I don't know why. It's... something of a sensitive subject for her, I think. Trust me, she very much would have liked to sleep those many, many years before I came across her."
Cyrus blinked. Now that was queer. It was speculated that the reason dwarves did not dream had something to do with their ancestral proximity to lyrium. For Tranquil, it was certain—the brand was what really did the trick. Likewise, Templars were able to sever Fade-connection and reduce magical effectiveness due to their consumption of lyrium. That all suggested a reason for Saraya's lack of dreams, but not her lack of sleep.
“Interesting. I still might be able to get at something through yours, if her consciousness really is partially-fused with yours, but it is much less promising an option now. I would not recommend risking it."
"Makes it very hard to sneak up on me while sleeping, at least," Vesryn half joked. "In any case, I would appreciate it if you could take a look into the lyrium business. And thank you." Seemingly satisfied for the moment, the elf stood to his full height again and began to don his cloak.
"Now, to find an enchanter willing to take a look at an old elven tallhelm. If you ever require the services of a lowly but handsome elf such as myself, you need only ask."
Cyrus snorted. “Duly noted. You might wish to inquire of Rilien, for your enchanting needs."
For now, though, he was perfectly content where he was, legs dangling over one arm of the chair, back pressed into the other. Pia purred steadily from her spot draped around his neck—she seemed to enjoy the vantage. He wasn't inclined to move her. Something about the continuous soft rumble helped him focus. White noise. He hated it when things were too quiet.
Flipping a page in the book settled in his lap, he reached up with his free hand to rub at the base of her ear, satisfied when her volume increased accordingly. If only people were so easy to please. Hooking his fingers in such a way that his knuckles cracked, he settled slightly deeper into the chair. Rivaini was not his favorite language. He'd have to keep a list of terms to double-check with Stellulam. Or perhaps Zahra, though he wasn't sure how many technical academic terms she would know. Cyrus was always willing to be surprised.
Vesryn did not make a habit of walking quietly, and so he was rather easy to notice when he entered the library. That, and his appearance in general tended to make him stand out, even when he wasn't wearing that white lion pelt over his armor. He wasn't in any armor at all currently, simply dressed for the warmth, or lack thereof. He paused behind the back of an armchair across from Cyrus, wearing a delighted little grin.
"Well, you two make a lovely couple." His eyes fell on the cat around his neck. "Will it hurt your reputation if too many people see you being this adorable?"
“Oh, without a doubt, unless perhaps I can get her to look more menacing, so that we might be the evil magister and his nasty minion. I'd hate to disappoint my loathful public." Cyrus lifted both eyebrows as if alarmed by the very idea, marking his place in the book and closing it over carefully. He lifted his shoulders, a bit more carefully than he usually would in deference to his passenger.
“May I ask what brings you by this afternoon?" The library was a bit of a trek from Vesryn's usual stomping grounds, after all. Cyrus had a feeling he knew the answer—he was only really sought out for one thing as a rule.
"Not books, I'm afraid." Vesryn removed and folded up his cloak, circled around the armchair, and sank into it. "I was hoping to ask you about something, perhaps not the easiest subject." He paused, having obviously not rehearsed the question in his head before arriving. "About Redcliffe, when you were... warped into the future or some such. You encountered me there."
That part obviously needed no confirmation. Cyrus had told Vesryn as much, in his initial poorly-handled series of questions about Saraya. So an elaboration was in order. He knew that immediately, and yet several seconds passed in silence. Pulling a breath in through his nose, Cyrus forced his thoughts into some semblance of order, doing his best not to linger on the memories themselves, but only the information they contained.
“Yes." He sighed a bit. “They'd performed more than one magic-assisted lobotomy on you, from the head scarring."
"Head scarring?" Vesryn repeated, making somewhat of a disgusted face. "How barbaric. I wonder how they learned of her..." He frowned, raising a hand to his face and gently tapping on his lips with a finger. "Did I make it clear what their aim was? If they succeeded?"
Cyrus dipped his chin in a subtle nod. “Extraction. I... wasn't in much condition to be asking for anything further, but your words were 'tried to take.' I surmise they failed, and also that they killed her. You'll forgive me for saying so, but your form was considerably less than it usually is, even accounting for a lack of practice." Cyrus hadn't been thinking about much at the time, his natural broadminded curiosity narrowed to a razor's edge of focus. Thinking about it now, there were many more questions he should have asked. Much more information he should have gleaned.
He could have learned a great deal about Corypheus's plans, if he'd been of the correct mindset. But his emotions had overruled him, and left them all blind as a result. It was not his proudest moment. And the sting seemed only to grow more bitter as time passed and he more fully understood the magnitude of the opportunity he had lost.
"Well, that's not surprising," Vesryn remarked grimly. "Months of torture and experimentation will do that to a man, and I expect I didn't have much left to stay in form for." He seemed to contemplate that for a moment, a thought which obviously brought him no small amount of discomfort, but he then shook his head, pushing it aside.
"Also not surprising that these Venatori would dabble with dangerous magic without a care for the consequences. That they tried to remove her suggests to me that it's possible, that they failed evidence that it's difficult to do. Do you believe there might be any way to do the opposite? To strengthen our ties?" He seemed to be very much hanging on the answer to the question. "I've been looking at the sketch Estella made of her a great deal lately. I've always wondered what her voice would sound like."
He smiled suddenly, as though a funny thought had occurred to him. "I suspect she thinks her undoubtedly sultry tones irrelevant, and that the words she could speak to me would be far more valuable. Here we'll have to agree to disagree."
Cyrus laughed at that, a smile temporarily remaining on his face even when it had passed. “I recall that project of hers, yes. She was quite troubled to get the rendition correct, but apparently Saraya's appearance blurred when apprehended directly." He'd helped with some of the finer facial details, but he didn't bother saying as much. It wasn't important.
“As to your question..." Cyrus passed his tongue over his teeth, scratching absently at his jaw. “I've spent some time thinking about this. Research is very limited on spirit-corporeal bonds, you understand, and there are other factors that make your case quite different from even those." With the disclaimer out of the way, he was free to get to the good part.
“But. I don't believe it's impossible. Well... strictly speaking, I think very few things are impossible, but strengthening your bond is something we should be able to achieve without much more than we already have at our disposal." His words took on a more rapid cadence as he warmed to his subject, and he sat up a little straighter, unconcerned with the slight nick as Pia used her claws to stabilize herself on his shoulder.
"Do you think my not being a mage will make this more difficult?" Vesryn asked, thoughtful. "Saraya and I have come to believe that it can't help matters any, my not being able to work with the Fade as she can, and... certain parties I've encountered agree." A thought seemed to occur to him, a rather dark one judging by the shift in his expression. "I wonder if the Venatori thought that wretched corrupted lyrium might help with something."
“It's quite likely." The red lyrium part was, at least. “All of you had been exposed to it, and your damage was among the most extensive. But in truth, without the right information, I don't think your being a mage would make all that much difference. She's not a conventional spirit, but the consciousness of a living person. She does not come from the Fade, and as such, an increased connection between yourself and the Fade may have made no difference at all." Cyrus shrugged. He would have preferred to know more than he did, of course; it was difficult to control for variables he could not identify. But the situation was what it was.
He was trying to remember that he was working with real people here, and while that made things messy in ways that laboratory experiments were not, the significance was also... more. This mattered, and not merely in the abstract.
“The process of extracting her mind from her body was quite likely magical, and strengthening the connection will probably involve magic. But that is no great obstacle. You'll have my help, after all." One side of his mouth tugged upwards; that had sounded rather self-important, hadn't it? Ah well.
“Now. Our Spymaster and the diminutive engineer have done a bit of work with red lyrium. It's essentially the opposite of the normal sort, in functional properties. So if it can have a negative effect on the bond, it stands to reason that strengthening may require ordinary lyrium. I can look into this, if you like, but it will take some time." Pulling his legs underneath him, he drummed his fingers on his knee.
“The other option, of course, is to let me walk in your dreams. Anything that is conscious can dream. Well, save dwarves. Saraya is conscious. It follows that she can dream. There is a chance I could find her via yours. However." He raised an index finger. “I do feel obligated to express that it would be a risk. She is not originally of the Fade; she may interact with it in ways I cannot predict."
"Actually," Vesryn interjected, "she does not dream." It looked to be something of a pained admission for him, as though he thought it were a rather terrible thing that she was unable to do. "I figured that much out a while back when I wondered why we never shared dreams. Why I never found her in mine. She... never sleeps, not even when I do. I don't know why. It's... something of a sensitive subject for her, I think. Trust me, she very much would have liked to sleep those many, many years before I came across her."
Cyrus blinked. Now that was queer. It was speculated that the reason dwarves did not dream had something to do with their ancestral proximity to lyrium. For Tranquil, it was certain—the brand was what really did the trick. Likewise, Templars were able to sever Fade-connection and reduce magical effectiveness due to their consumption of lyrium. That all suggested a reason for Saraya's lack of dreams, but not her lack of sleep.
“Interesting. I still might be able to get at something through yours, if her consciousness really is partially-fused with yours, but it is much less promising an option now. I would not recommend risking it."
"Makes it very hard to sneak up on me while sleeping, at least," Vesryn half joked. "In any case, I would appreciate it if you could take a look into the lyrium business. And thank you." Seemingly satisfied for the moment, the elf stood to his full height again and began to don his cloak.
"Now, to find an enchanter willing to take a look at an old elven tallhelm. If you ever require the services of a lowly but handsome elf such as myself, you need only ask."
Cyrus snorted. “Duly noted. You might wish to inquire of Rilien, for your enchanting needs."