Vesryn had wondered if his friends would have left by now. He couldn't decide if he was disappointed that they hadn't.
At the very least there had been no more uncomfortable incidents like the one with Khari and Shae in the training yard. Vesryn had been annoyed, to say the least, when he'd been told of what Zeth had said there. A flat-ear, was it? Zeth would know better than any the qualities of a flat-ear, he supposed. He was glad that Shae at least seemed to acquit herself well, for the most part. There would have been no turning down the fight for her, as that would have meant backing down from a potential fight with a supposed traitor to their kin. Cornered into it or not, Shae had given Khari a fair fight and not attempted to inflict any more harm than was necessary.
Still Zeth had not made clear the purpose of his visit. He visited Skyhold's library often, and no one really bothered to check what exactly he was reading, as there were few that sought out his company on purpose, and Vesryn certainly wasn't among them. Astraia continued to practice with the mages. Her progress was slow but measurable; there had been no more leaps in her abilities like her chance casting of that petrify spell, nor had she been able to recreate the spell on command. It frustrated her, he knew, but for once it was a good frustration. She wanted to learn all she could in the time she had, and now she had a resource to tell her what her failures meant, and how to avoid them. Why Zeth had stopped being that for her, Vesryn couldn't say.
Currently he found himself on his way up to the walls, heading for Cyrus's workshop in his tower. He didn't visit there all that often, but he wasn't really sure where to go at the moment, so long as it wasn't the great hall. Perhaps it was shameful of him to avoid Zethlasan like this, but until he felt that the man had nothing but peaceful intentions, he saw no reason to expose himself to that. His presence at Skyhold had been tolerated only because Astraia was with him, and Vesryn had every desire to see Astraia succeed in whatever she chose to do.
He pulled up at the door and knocked, briefly checking behind him and surveying the fortress grounds below.
The door was answered rather promptly, in fact, though not by Cyrus. Rather, it was an elven woman who pulled it aside, dressed in a manner not uncommon among the domestic servants of Skyhold. She was rather nondescript, if pretty, and considerably darker by way of complexion than most southern elves ever got. They'd never met, but she seemed to recognize him, at any rate, arching both eyebrows and turning back in to speak to someone behind her.
"Cyrus? It's not Lady Estella, it's Serah Vesryn."
A couple of seconds lapsed, in which she turned back around to face him, wearing an indulgent smile but not, noticeably, stepping away to allow him inside. It was only a few more moments before Cyrus appeared behind her, blinking. From his relaxed manner of dress, he probably hadn't left his tower today, though he didn't have that slightly-ill look he sometimes got when he was neglecting his health, either.
“Hm." The syllable sounded rather nonplussed, as far as hums went. “Can't say I was expecting you, but I am always open to being pleasantly surprised. You don't have to guard the door, Livia, he's a... friend." The pause between the last two words was just long enough to be perceptible.
It seemed to be enough for her, though, and she moved aside readily, going about the business of collecting the remnants of lunch, it looked like. Cyrus moved his attention to Vesryn, tilting his head toward the interior. “Do come in and make yourself comfortable." There were several suitable-looking chairs about for the purpose, clustered in one section of the room, with a few more arranged around the large desk and worktable that took up most of the middle.
"Thank you, Livia." Vesryn offered the elven woman a smile as he made his way inside. It wasn't clear to him how anyone could function properly in a space like this, or keep track of... anything, but then again, Vesryn wasn't a mage who had been doing this sort of thing his entire life.
"I confess, I have no real reason for this visit." He sank down into a chair, the furniture creaking slightly under his weight. "Just needed somewhere to be." He hadn't donned any armor for the day, and the weather for once was growing considerably more pleasant on average. It took much longer for a place like Skyhold to reach summer, but they were slowly getting there. He'd chosen a light blue short sleeved tunic for the day, unbuttoned about halfway down his chest as he seemed to prefer, tucked into sturdy trousers.
"Are you working on anything of interest lately?" Progress on the Saraya front had largely been halted since Adamant and what had happened there, so he didn't expect any new revelations of that kind. But Cyrus was always up to something. It seemed like he'd go mad if he had nothing to do.
“Of interest to me or of interest to anyone else?" Cyrus smiled slightly, the amusement that flickered over his face evidence enough that he understood that there was a considerable difference. Livia huffed softly, almost a laugh, taking up the tray she'd piled all her dishes on and exiting the same way Vesryn had entered.
“Don't forget to practice!" Cyrus called the instruction to her departing form, just before the door swung closed behind her. He shook his head slightly, glancing down at his desk for a moment and moving... whatever he'd been working on over to a larger stack of loose parchments.
He didn't linger long, though, taking a nearby chair himself and resting his ankle on the opposite knee. “But yes. I find my current projects of considerable interest. At the moment, most of it has to do with the marks, and the Breach. And of course, I've made extensive documentation of our time physically in the Fade as well." He paused, brows drawing down over his eyes. “I... omitted everyone's personal details, naturally." The Inquisition, it seemed, didn't leave him bereft of things to study, record, and theorize about, or whatever it was exactly that he did.
“Now you, on the other hand... am I right in supposing that the reason you need somewhere to be is that you're avoiding your friends? Or rather, friend?" It probably wasn't a huge leap in logic for him, considering what he knew of the matter.
"You're not wrong," he admitted, a single uncomfortable laugh escaping him. "It's starting to become a—"
There was another knock on the door. Four raps in quick succession. Somehow Vesryn didn't think that would be Livia, as he didn't expect she needed to knock. He looked to Cyrus, raising his eyebrows a little.
“How much do you like your luck, Vesryn?" Cyrus said it wryly, pushing away from the chair with his palms on the armrests and crossing to the door. It opened in such a way that Vesryn couldn't immediately see who was there, but that became very obvious a moment later.
“Zethlasan. To what do I owe the pleasure?" It was hard to tell for certain, given the other man's many faces and even more moods, but there might have been a layer of heavy sarcasm underneath the question.
Vesryn turned enough in his chair to see Zeth standing just outside the doorway, alone for once. Unless Shae was hiding somewhere outside, but he didn't see her. Zeth's eyes danced back and forth between Vesryn and Cyrus for a moment before he smiled at the latter. A bit more strained than his usual false face, Vesryn noted. "I'd hoped to speak with Ves. I happened to see him heading this way."
Followed him from the great hall, more like. Vesryn gritted his teeth briefly, but then stood so that he could better face the other two. "I suppose we've put this off for long enough. Perhaps we could speak here, then?"
Zeth seemed surprised to hear him say that, his mouth hanging open for a second longer than he intended it to. "Here?" His eyes again darted to Cyrus, and then back. The confusion with the suggestion was obvious: he believed that they would be speaking in private, not with a guest listening in.
Vesryn nodded. "Yes, here. If that's alright with you, Cyrus?" He didn't doubt it would be an uncomfortable experience, but there were certain things that needed to be said sooner or later, and Vesryn preferred to have a friend there for them.
Cyrus seemed just as surprised at the suggestion, but to his credit, he evidently caught on quickly to the actual intent behind it, and lifted his shoulders. “I suppose I don't mind." He stepped aside smoothly to allow Zeth inside, closing the door behind him and making a sweeping hand gesture at the furniture. “Have a seat. Unless you prefer to stand? I'd offer tea, but alas I have none."
Though Zeth entered, he stood still for a moment just inside the door, fully ignoring Cyrus for the time being. He still seemed to be struggling with the reality of the situation. "Ves, don't you think it would be better if we spoke in private?" Vesryn had to suppress a laugh. It was good to have him flustered for once. He took his chair and turned it slightly so that the three of them might better be able to all face each other. Assuming Zeth chose to sit.
"Zeth, anything you wish to speak to me about can be done so in Cyrus's company." Well, perhaps not anything, as there were a few topics that he really didn't expect that Zeth wanted to cover, after so many years. But the message seemed to have finally made its way across.
"Anything, is it?" Vesryn nodded, and Zeth turned his eyes on Cyrus next. "I suppose he's told you, then. The Tevinter mage, of all people."
“Well in all fairness, I didn't give him much choice at the time." Cyrus, apparently unfazed, retook his own chair, resting his cheek on the knuckles of his right hand. “I can be rather difficult to dissuade, when I think I'm onto something important. A trait it seems we have in common, judging by your continued presence here." His tone was ambiguous rather than truly neutral—the valence of the assessment was hard to discern.
"Nor was it precisely me that gave her away," Vesryn added in his defense. He wondered when he would've gotten around to telling them, if events had gone differently. "But the full explanation will take more time than I'm willing to lose today. Why don't you sit, Zeth?" He still seemed a bit stunned by it all, but he did wander his way over to a chair, laying his staff across his lap as he sank into it, the tip of it pointed towards the door.
"I came here to help, Ves," he said, quietly. "That's all I've wanted to do for you. Help you, and help the People. I had hoped you would seek me out on your own if I lingered long enough, but it's as if I'm your enemy now."
"It's because I don't trust you, Zeth," he stated plainly. Zeth took it evenly, to his credit. "Your attempts to help me, to help the People would have only harmed both. The people here, working with the Inquisition, seek the benefit of all. They've earned my trust, through trials that you have absolutely no knowledge of."
"So there are others that know as well?" Zeth didn't seem surprised to be asking the question, not after the Tevinter mage knew.
Vesryn nodded. "The Tevinter mage's sister knows, and the Tevinter assassin, too. The elvhen'alas knows. The High Seeker knows. The Qunari Tal-Vashoth. Quite a few people know, and none of them have ever suggested withdrawing Saraya from my head." He quite enjoyed delivering it in that manner. These people that were supposed to be enemies of the elves, or at the very least not allies to be trusted, all knew and had only ever sought to help him. Perhaps Zeth spoke truly when he said he only wished to help, but his view on helping was severely warped in that case.
"None of them can understand what's at stake, Ves." Zeth seemed to be acting as though Vesryn simply couldn't comprehend the potential value in his own head. It was the same way he'd been before Vesryn had left Thremael behind. In his mind now, Saraya practically burned with distaste for what Zethlasan was saying. Regarded his notions of stakes like one would look at the ideas of a small child, barely having the intelligence to form words. "What happened to you to make you so afraid?"
"What happened is that I was born with a modicum of compassion, and concern for the life inside my head." His tone grew a bit more stern at that. It was this idea that had never broken through to Zeth. To him Saraya was not a real person that had existed, that still existed in her diminished form. A real woman who had qualities that made her worth preserving, even if that meant some elven history would be lost, maybe forever. "I am not willing to experiment blindly on her in the hopes that we might find a way to speak with one another. You couldn't understand that, because you haven't felt the things I have. I endured her desperate desire for death until it nearly killed me as well, and then I felt it lessen, and then vanish. I felt her decide to live, after thousands of years of being denied her rest. I will not risk her life for our own selfish ends, especially if that risk is against her will."
He breathed several times in and out, and allowed the silence to sit. Zeth had been unable to keep his eyes upon him, and he swallowed uncomfortably where he sat. It was almost too much for Vesryn to hope that would be enough. He wouldn't let him rest. "And what happened to you, Zeth? I barely recognize you." Visually, it was like he hadn't aged a day, but seeing Zethlasan act in the way he had nearly made Vesryn feel sick. "You've acted like a child since we met in Crestwood. Doing anything you can to make yourself look the superior. You shame your own sister. Astraia, Zeth. When did you start keeping her down to swell your own ego?"
"I..." He couldn't come up with anything. Lost for words. That sat well with Vesryn, but did nothing to soften his glare.
"What is your intent here, Zeth? How much longer will I need to watch my back for you, in fear that you will do something idiotic?" He didn't believe, couldn't believe that Zeth was waiting around Skyhold to allow his sister to learn. Not that same sister he seemed willing to embarrass in front of strangers. Nor was he willing to trust that Zeth would ask his permission before attempting something. If Astraia hadn't been present, and if her remaining at Skyhold wasn't dependent still on Zeth's staying, he would've forced this conversation a long time ago, and then removed Zethlasan from the Frostback Mountains.
"And what is it you think I will do?" he asked. His voice was weaker now, strained. "What is it you think I've learned? I found maybe a tenth of the places you told me of, and from those I learned nothing. From Skyhold's libraries, nothing. I spoke truly. I meant to help, and I still mean to help. If that means helping you keep Saraya as she is, then... then so be it." His eyes began to shine slightly. "But you can understand, can't you? You are free to wander as you please, fighting and being an example of what the elves could be, and the Dalish... we have to hide, always running, always pitiful. If there's even a chance Saraya could give us a better life somehow..."
"That's not a chance I'm willing to take, Zeth. I'm sorry. Trust that if Saraya's feelings on this were different, mine would be as well. But I follow her lead, and her instinct is to resist anything you might attempt." Zeth exhaled shakily, rubbing at the back of his neck and blinking quite rapidly. He did not attempt to counter Vesryn again, and he almost began to feel like they were making some kind of progress. "And Astraia? Do you have anything to say about that?"
"I... I've failed her. I know. I haven't been the brother she deserves. This... thought of finding you, of trying to change your mind, it's been all I could think of. She deserves more, before we return and she becomes First somewhere else."
"Then let this go, Zeth. If you allow yourself to look at the other things in this world, I think you'll start to find that more than a few of them are worth your time and effort."
“If I may." Cyrus interjected in the pause in a way that was rather subdued, for him. “This particular Tevinter mage has spent several years searching such ruins. I don't know what you know or what you don't, but I do have this." He stood, turning and moving to one of his laden bookshelves, running his fingers along several spines before he found what he wanted. The book he took down was of a medium heft, the leather cover plain and unassuming.
He sat again, proffering it towards Zeth. “I've a few copies, now, so it's no trouble if you want this one. It's a lexicon, of all the elvish I've encountered, as well as the meanings of each fragment. I don't have a grammar to go with it, so it's of limited use, but last I checked, Stellulam was putting her linguistic skills to work devising one. It's... a great deal of terms and phrases and words. Many I suspect aren't widely known. I had a rather helpful source in assembling it, though perhaps Vesryn and Saraya should check for accuracy." That, he said with a half smile, as though he didn't really expect it to be a problem.
“It isn't the glory of lost ages, by any means, but... being able to read all the inscriptions I encounter has proven most helpful."
Zeth didn't seem to know if he should be insulted or honored. To be handed such a thing by someone such as Cyrus. Nevertheless, he took it into his lap, opening it and studying a few different pages. While he looked down, Vesryn silently nodded thanks towards Cyrus.
"I don't..."
"Know what to say?" Vesryn finished for him. "You don't have to say anything sometimes. If you'd like me to take a look at that with you later, I would be willing."
Zeth looked up from the text into Vesryn's eyes, still a bit lost for words, though he managed to gather up a few. "Ah... ma serannas. I'd... I'd like that, Ves." It was a start, at least. Perhaps something they would do in the library, where at least a few other people would be around. Zethlasan closed up the book, holding it in both hands. "If you're amenable to it, I'd like to remain at Skyhold for a while longer. I know Astraia could make good use of the time, and... perhaps I can as well."
"I see no reason to cast you out just yet," he answered, a bit of humor to his tone. It earned a tiny hint of a smile from Zeth. "Skyhold is a place for all of my few friends. And I would like to be able to call you that again."
"I as well." He stood, carefully holding the book under one arm and grabbing his staff with the other. "I should probably show this to the others." He seemed about to wish them farewell or some such, but then just decided to turn and leave, closing the door quietly behind him.
Vesryn sighed deeply once he was gone, running a hand through his hair and slouching down into his chair. "That went... better than I expected, honestly."
“Yes well... sometimes all it takes is a well-meaning shove in the right direction. Perhaps this will turn out to be such a case." An odd look crossed Cyrus's face, then, but it passed, and he didn't comment upon whatever caused it.
A half-smile tugged at his mouth. “And that was... quite the shove, I daresay."
"Saraya's strength-training routines are second to none." He grinned, but it soon shrunk until it was almost gone. "But thank you. There was a time where Zeth meant quite a lot to me. I don't think he'll ever get back there, not after what happened, but if he gets anywhere close I'll be more than happy with it."
Such a thing was hardly guaranteed, but after all the annoyance of enduring his old friends being in Skyhold with his new ones, Vesryn desperately wanted to be an optimist about it.
At the very least there had been no more uncomfortable incidents like the one with Khari and Shae in the training yard. Vesryn had been annoyed, to say the least, when he'd been told of what Zeth had said there. A flat-ear, was it? Zeth would know better than any the qualities of a flat-ear, he supposed. He was glad that Shae at least seemed to acquit herself well, for the most part. There would have been no turning down the fight for her, as that would have meant backing down from a potential fight with a supposed traitor to their kin. Cornered into it or not, Shae had given Khari a fair fight and not attempted to inflict any more harm than was necessary.
Still Zeth had not made clear the purpose of his visit. He visited Skyhold's library often, and no one really bothered to check what exactly he was reading, as there were few that sought out his company on purpose, and Vesryn certainly wasn't among them. Astraia continued to practice with the mages. Her progress was slow but measurable; there had been no more leaps in her abilities like her chance casting of that petrify spell, nor had she been able to recreate the spell on command. It frustrated her, he knew, but for once it was a good frustration. She wanted to learn all she could in the time she had, and now she had a resource to tell her what her failures meant, and how to avoid them. Why Zeth had stopped being that for her, Vesryn couldn't say.
Currently he found himself on his way up to the walls, heading for Cyrus's workshop in his tower. He didn't visit there all that often, but he wasn't really sure where to go at the moment, so long as it wasn't the great hall. Perhaps it was shameful of him to avoid Zethlasan like this, but until he felt that the man had nothing but peaceful intentions, he saw no reason to expose himself to that. His presence at Skyhold had been tolerated only because Astraia was with him, and Vesryn had every desire to see Astraia succeed in whatever she chose to do.
He pulled up at the door and knocked, briefly checking behind him and surveying the fortress grounds below.
The door was answered rather promptly, in fact, though not by Cyrus. Rather, it was an elven woman who pulled it aside, dressed in a manner not uncommon among the domestic servants of Skyhold. She was rather nondescript, if pretty, and considerably darker by way of complexion than most southern elves ever got. They'd never met, but she seemed to recognize him, at any rate, arching both eyebrows and turning back in to speak to someone behind her.
"Cyrus? It's not Lady Estella, it's Serah Vesryn."
A couple of seconds lapsed, in which she turned back around to face him, wearing an indulgent smile but not, noticeably, stepping away to allow him inside. It was only a few more moments before Cyrus appeared behind her, blinking. From his relaxed manner of dress, he probably hadn't left his tower today, though he didn't have that slightly-ill look he sometimes got when he was neglecting his health, either.
“Hm." The syllable sounded rather nonplussed, as far as hums went. “Can't say I was expecting you, but I am always open to being pleasantly surprised. You don't have to guard the door, Livia, he's a... friend." The pause between the last two words was just long enough to be perceptible.
It seemed to be enough for her, though, and she moved aside readily, going about the business of collecting the remnants of lunch, it looked like. Cyrus moved his attention to Vesryn, tilting his head toward the interior. “Do come in and make yourself comfortable." There were several suitable-looking chairs about for the purpose, clustered in one section of the room, with a few more arranged around the large desk and worktable that took up most of the middle.
"Thank you, Livia." Vesryn offered the elven woman a smile as he made his way inside. It wasn't clear to him how anyone could function properly in a space like this, or keep track of... anything, but then again, Vesryn wasn't a mage who had been doing this sort of thing his entire life.
"I confess, I have no real reason for this visit." He sank down into a chair, the furniture creaking slightly under his weight. "Just needed somewhere to be." He hadn't donned any armor for the day, and the weather for once was growing considerably more pleasant on average. It took much longer for a place like Skyhold to reach summer, but they were slowly getting there. He'd chosen a light blue short sleeved tunic for the day, unbuttoned about halfway down his chest as he seemed to prefer, tucked into sturdy trousers.
"Are you working on anything of interest lately?" Progress on the Saraya front had largely been halted since Adamant and what had happened there, so he didn't expect any new revelations of that kind. But Cyrus was always up to something. It seemed like he'd go mad if he had nothing to do.
“Of interest to me or of interest to anyone else?" Cyrus smiled slightly, the amusement that flickered over his face evidence enough that he understood that there was a considerable difference. Livia huffed softly, almost a laugh, taking up the tray she'd piled all her dishes on and exiting the same way Vesryn had entered.
“Don't forget to practice!" Cyrus called the instruction to her departing form, just before the door swung closed behind her. He shook his head slightly, glancing down at his desk for a moment and moving... whatever he'd been working on over to a larger stack of loose parchments.
He didn't linger long, though, taking a nearby chair himself and resting his ankle on the opposite knee. “But yes. I find my current projects of considerable interest. At the moment, most of it has to do with the marks, and the Breach. And of course, I've made extensive documentation of our time physically in the Fade as well." He paused, brows drawing down over his eyes. “I... omitted everyone's personal details, naturally." The Inquisition, it seemed, didn't leave him bereft of things to study, record, and theorize about, or whatever it was exactly that he did.
“Now you, on the other hand... am I right in supposing that the reason you need somewhere to be is that you're avoiding your friends? Or rather, friend?" It probably wasn't a huge leap in logic for him, considering what he knew of the matter.
"You're not wrong," he admitted, a single uncomfortable laugh escaping him. "It's starting to become a—"
There was another knock on the door. Four raps in quick succession. Somehow Vesryn didn't think that would be Livia, as he didn't expect she needed to knock. He looked to Cyrus, raising his eyebrows a little.
“How much do you like your luck, Vesryn?" Cyrus said it wryly, pushing away from the chair with his palms on the armrests and crossing to the door. It opened in such a way that Vesryn couldn't immediately see who was there, but that became very obvious a moment later.
“Zethlasan. To what do I owe the pleasure?" It was hard to tell for certain, given the other man's many faces and even more moods, but there might have been a layer of heavy sarcasm underneath the question.
Vesryn turned enough in his chair to see Zeth standing just outside the doorway, alone for once. Unless Shae was hiding somewhere outside, but he didn't see her. Zeth's eyes danced back and forth between Vesryn and Cyrus for a moment before he smiled at the latter. A bit more strained than his usual false face, Vesryn noted. "I'd hoped to speak with Ves. I happened to see him heading this way."
Followed him from the great hall, more like. Vesryn gritted his teeth briefly, but then stood so that he could better face the other two. "I suppose we've put this off for long enough. Perhaps we could speak here, then?"
Zeth seemed surprised to hear him say that, his mouth hanging open for a second longer than he intended it to. "Here?" His eyes again darted to Cyrus, and then back. The confusion with the suggestion was obvious: he believed that they would be speaking in private, not with a guest listening in.
Vesryn nodded. "Yes, here. If that's alright with you, Cyrus?" He didn't doubt it would be an uncomfortable experience, but there were certain things that needed to be said sooner or later, and Vesryn preferred to have a friend there for them.
Cyrus seemed just as surprised at the suggestion, but to his credit, he evidently caught on quickly to the actual intent behind it, and lifted his shoulders. “I suppose I don't mind." He stepped aside smoothly to allow Zeth inside, closing the door behind him and making a sweeping hand gesture at the furniture. “Have a seat. Unless you prefer to stand? I'd offer tea, but alas I have none."
Though Zeth entered, he stood still for a moment just inside the door, fully ignoring Cyrus for the time being. He still seemed to be struggling with the reality of the situation. "Ves, don't you think it would be better if we spoke in private?" Vesryn had to suppress a laugh. It was good to have him flustered for once. He took his chair and turned it slightly so that the three of them might better be able to all face each other. Assuming Zeth chose to sit.
"Zeth, anything you wish to speak to me about can be done so in Cyrus's company." Well, perhaps not anything, as there were a few topics that he really didn't expect that Zeth wanted to cover, after so many years. But the message seemed to have finally made its way across.
"Anything, is it?" Vesryn nodded, and Zeth turned his eyes on Cyrus next. "I suppose he's told you, then. The Tevinter mage, of all people."
“Well in all fairness, I didn't give him much choice at the time." Cyrus, apparently unfazed, retook his own chair, resting his cheek on the knuckles of his right hand. “I can be rather difficult to dissuade, when I think I'm onto something important. A trait it seems we have in common, judging by your continued presence here." His tone was ambiguous rather than truly neutral—the valence of the assessment was hard to discern.
"Nor was it precisely me that gave her away," Vesryn added in his defense. He wondered when he would've gotten around to telling them, if events had gone differently. "But the full explanation will take more time than I'm willing to lose today. Why don't you sit, Zeth?" He still seemed a bit stunned by it all, but he did wander his way over to a chair, laying his staff across his lap as he sank into it, the tip of it pointed towards the door.
"I came here to help, Ves," he said, quietly. "That's all I've wanted to do for you. Help you, and help the People. I had hoped you would seek me out on your own if I lingered long enough, but it's as if I'm your enemy now."
"It's because I don't trust you, Zeth," he stated plainly. Zeth took it evenly, to his credit. "Your attempts to help me, to help the People would have only harmed both. The people here, working with the Inquisition, seek the benefit of all. They've earned my trust, through trials that you have absolutely no knowledge of."
"So there are others that know as well?" Zeth didn't seem surprised to be asking the question, not after the Tevinter mage knew.
Vesryn nodded. "The Tevinter mage's sister knows, and the Tevinter assassin, too. The elvhen'alas knows. The High Seeker knows. The Qunari Tal-Vashoth. Quite a few people know, and none of them have ever suggested withdrawing Saraya from my head." He quite enjoyed delivering it in that manner. These people that were supposed to be enemies of the elves, or at the very least not allies to be trusted, all knew and had only ever sought to help him. Perhaps Zeth spoke truly when he said he only wished to help, but his view on helping was severely warped in that case.
"None of them can understand what's at stake, Ves." Zeth seemed to be acting as though Vesryn simply couldn't comprehend the potential value in his own head. It was the same way he'd been before Vesryn had left Thremael behind. In his mind now, Saraya practically burned with distaste for what Zethlasan was saying. Regarded his notions of stakes like one would look at the ideas of a small child, barely having the intelligence to form words. "What happened to you to make you so afraid?"
"What happened is that I was born with a modicum of compassion, and concern for the life inside my head." His tone grew a bit more stern at that. It was this idea that had never broken through to Zeth. To him Saraya was not a real person that had existed, that still existed in her diminished form. A real woman who had qualities that made her worth preserving, even if that meant some elven history would be lost, maybe forever. "I am not willing to experiment blindly on her in the hopes that we might find a way to speak with one another. You couldn't understand that, because you haven't felt the things I have. I endured her desperate desire for death until it nearly killed me as well, and then I felt it lessen, and then vanish. I felt her decide to live, after thousands of years of being denied her rest. I will not risk her life for our own selfish ends, especially if that risk is against her will."
He breathed several times in and out, and allowed the silence to sit. Zeth had been unable to keep his eyes upon him, and he swallowed uncomfortably where he sat. It was almost too much for Vesryn to hope that would be enough. He wouldn't let him rest. "And what happened to you, Zeth? I barely recognize you." Visually, it was like he hadn't aged a day, but seeing Zethlasan act in the way he had nearly made Vesryn feel sick. "You've acted like a child since we met in Crestwood. Doing anything you can to make yourself look the superior. You shame your own sister. Astraia, Zeth. When did you start keeping her down to swell your own ego?"
"I..." He couldn't come up with anything. Lost for words. That sat well with Vesryn, but did nothing to soften his glare.
"What is your intent here, Zeth? How much longer will I need to watch my back for you, in fear that you will do something idiotic?" He didn't believe, couldn't believe that Zeth was waiting around Skyhold to allow his sister to learn. Not that same sister he seemed willing to embarrass in front of strangers. Nor was he willing to trust that Zeth would ask his permission before attempting something. If Astraia hadn't been present, and if her remaining at Skyhold wasn't dependent still on Zeth's staying, he would've forced this conversation a long time ago, and then removed Zethlasan from the Frostback Mountains.
"And what is it you think I will do?" he asked. His voice was weaker now, strained. "What is it you think I've learned? I found maybe a tenth of the places you told me of, and from those I learned nothing. From Skyhold's libraries, nothing. I spoke truly. I meant to help, and I still mean to help. If that means helping you keep Saraya as she is, then... then so be it." His eyes began to shine slightly. "But you can understand, can't you? You are free to wander as you please, fighting and being an example of what the elves could be, and the Dalish... we have to hide, always running, always pitiful. If there's even a chance Saraya could give us a better life somehow..."
"That's not a chance I'm willing to take, Zeth. I'm sorry. Trust that if Saraya's feelings on this were different, mine would be as well. But I follow her lead, and her instinct is to resist anything you might attempt." Zeth exhaled shakily, rubbing at the back of his neck and blinking quite rapidly. He did not attempt to counter Vesryn again, and he almost began to feel like they were making some kind of progress. "And Astraia? Do you have anything to say about that?"
"I... I've failed her. I know. I haven't been the brother she deserves. This... thought of finding you, of trying to change your mind, it's been all I could think of. She deserves more, before we return and she becomes First somewhere else."
"Then let this go, Zeth. If you allow yourself to look at the other things in this world, I think you'll start to find that more than a few of them are worth your time and effort."
“If I may." Cyrus interjected in the pause in a way that was rather subdued, for him. “This particular Tevinter mage has spent several years searching such ruins. I don't know what you know or what you don't, but I do have this." He stood, turning and moving to one of his laden bookshelves, running his fingers along several spines before he found what he wanted. The book he took down was of a medium heft, the leather cover plain and unassuming.
He sat again, proffering it towards Zeth. “I've a few copies, now, so it's no trouble if you want this one. It's a lexicon, of all the elvish I've encountered, as well as the meanings of each fragment. I don't have a grammar to go with it, so it's of limited use, but last I checked, Stellulam was putting her linguistic skills to work devising one. It's... a great deal of terms and phrases and words. Many I suspect aren't widely known. I had a rather helpful source in assembling it, though perhaps Vesryn and Saraya should check for accuracy." That, he said with a half smile, as though he didn't really expect it to be a problem.
“It isn't the glory of lost ages, by any means, but... being able to read all the inscriptions I encounter has proven most helpful."
Zeth didn't seem to know if he should be insulted or honored. To be handed such a thing by someone such as Cyrus. Nevertheless, he took it into his lap, opening it and studying a few different pages. While he looked down, Vesryn silently nodded thanks towards Cyrus.
"I don't..."
"Know what to say?" Vesryn finished for him. "You don't have to say anything sometimes. If you'd like me to take a look at that with you later, I would be willing."
Zeth looked up from the text into Vesryn's eyes, still a bit lost for words, though he managed to gather up a few. "Ah... ma serannas. I'd... I'd like that, Ves." It was a start, at least. Perhaps something they would do in the library, where at least a few other people would be around. Zethlasan closed up the book, holding it in both hands. "If you're amenable to it, I'd like to remain at Skyhold for a while longer. I know Astraia could make good use of the time, and... perhaps I can as well."
"I see no reason to cast you out just yet," he answered, a bit of humor to his tone. It earned a tiny hint of a smile from Zeth. "Skyhold is a place for all of my few friends. And I would like to be able to call you that again."
"I as well." He stood, carefully holding the book under one arm and grabbing his staff with the other. "I should probably show this to the others." He seemed about to wish them farewell or some such, but then just decided to turn and leave, closing the door quietly behind him.
Vesryn sighed deeply once he was gone, running a hand through his hair and slouching down into his chair. "That went... better than I expected, honestly."
“Yes well... sometimes all it takes is a well-meaning shove in the right direction. Perhaps this will turn out to be such a case." An odd look crossed Cyrus's face, then, but it passed, and he didn't comment upon whatever caused it.
A half-smile tugged at his mouth. “And that was... quite the shove, I daresay."
"Saraya's strength-training routines are second to none." He grinned, but it soon shrunk until it was almost gone. "But thank you. There was a time where Zeth meant quite a lot to me. I don't think he'll ever get back there, not after what happened, but if he gets anywhere close I'll be more than happy with it."
Such a thing was hardly guaranteed, but after all the annoyance of enduring his old friends being in Skyhold with his new ones, Vesryn desperately wanted to be an optimist about it.