An Epilogue for Ivyhold Manor
Log Info
- Title: An Epilogue for Ivyhold Manor
- GM: Riptide
- Place: Ivyhold Manor / Telamon's magnificent mansion
The void disintegrates around them, leaving - an empty, dilapidated manor, worn by time but still structurally sound - at least for now. Who knows how long that will last. And - a sense of mundanity. That the magic that held this place out of time is no more. The foyer in which they now stand is dusty, but no more than that, and the smell of decay has yet to creep into the place. It is as if the place has been abandoned for a few months, not seven generations of man.
Outside the windows, heavy snow falls, the chill seeping into the dusty stones inside, and the carpet offers little defense against it. It will most definitely want replacing. At least a foot has already fallen outside, and it looks like there will be more. Rhain and Cosette have already thanked them and vanished, and the room is empty and alone.
Seldan staggers as he is released by the magic, and looks around him wonderingly. Automatically, he narrows his eyes and scans the room again, but at what he finds, drops to one knee, Reunion in its star-knife form in his hand flat on the carpeted floor, silent and stunned at what the group had experienced. Bright tears have formed at the corners of ice-blue eyes, and his shoulders shake.
There's a soft thud as Telamon lands on his rump with a somwhat undignified yelp. His dark eyes flick back and forth, before he relaxes... seeing Rhain and Cosette free, and now the house is just a house. Old, probably in need of some maintenance, but no longer haunted by the ghosts of the past.
Wearily, the sorcerer clambers to his feet again, and moves over to put a hand on Seldan's shoulder. No words spoken -- none needed, really. He looks over at Zeke and Verna, and says softly, "We made it. And we freed them." Looking outside, he can't help but snort. "And it seems winter is definitely making its presence known. Don't think I'll be trying to fly in that."
For a moment, the peace of the scene - even with the biting winter cold - is a blessing to Zeke. He stands at Seldan's side, his body and spirit exhausted by the fight which they had just endured. The blue scale looks toward Seldan as the man falls to the ground on one knee, tears forming at the edges of his eyes. Zeke has rarely seen the other man display such emotion, but he can not ignore it.
He moves toward Seldan, only to stall in the realization that the wings he had so recently borne are now gone. Their lack leaves him feeling as bereft as does the lack of his god's grace burning through him like fire. He is empty.
Even so he moves toward Telamon and his kin, lowering himself to Seldan's side carefully. "What isss wrong kin?" He asks gently, quietly.
That The Void, or whatever sliver was present, of that dimensional pocket is now gone is a good thing. That they are no longer contained with it is even better. Verna is quiet for a moment, save for a few cycles of breath before she nods to Telamon. "Indeed. They are free and we are returned." Certainly a best-case scenario. The newfound/returned chill of Ea is a brisk, quasi-comforting presence at the moment.
She looks to the others to ensure all are, in fact, whole and hale, and its then that she notes Seldan's potential discomfort... albeit more by Zeke's inquiry.
Seldan does not answer immediately, but Zeke will be able to see his lips moving in silent prayer, and he certainly seems to be breathing normally, drawing deep, slow breaths as if to slow himself down. When the prayer is done, he lets out one last breath and looks up at Zeke, then back down to the star-knife in his hand, staring at it almost in disbelief. "I endure the darkness - that I might be shown Her stars within. That gift have I been granted this night. May Her holy face always shine upon me."
Slowly, he lifts the star-knife to his lips, touching it gently and drawing and letting out one last deep, shuddering breath. "Reunion, the sword, if you please?" he manages, lowering it again.
Reunion, who has been miraculously silent for the entire battle - that's never happened before - takes a moment to answer, then resumes its normal form in his hand. Another moment of silence, and finally Kanian speaks up. "Gotta admit, boy. That was something else."
"We chose rightly." That is the deeper, distinguished male voice, speaking soberly. "You have done the Padaryn family a service tonight, Seldan. All of you. Thank you."
Again, Seldan is silent for a minute. "I have done Her, and the family, a service this night," he corrects. "And, She blesses me - all of us - in return."
Zeke can well understand the feeling that Seldan has. To be touched by the divine, and then to feel that spark fade. To know in truth that you are blessed. How many times has he felt this way?
Zeke's green eyes trail away from Seldan and he slowly, carefully makes his way to his feet once more.
"She is with us. She was, is, always with us. Sometimes we just need to listen to Her." Telamon backs up to let Zeke tend to Seldan, and moves over to Verna. "Are you alright? Aura will beat me silly if I don't make sure." His eyes twinkle merrily, his expression becoming cheerful.
"That being said, though, I don't think the house is ready for winter guests." Telamon looks back to Seldan and Zeke. "So what will you do now? Ivyhold is cleansed. In honesty, I still think it should fall to you, Sir Seldan. You set things right, after all."
"I am well," Verna assures Telamon. There is a brief hint of ... smile(?) though it fades rapidly in a pause of consideration as next words are evaluated and chosen. "Both moreso and less so than I was a few moments ago, I believe. That was... a situation with little or no reference for comparison."
Her eyes shift to Seldan and Zeke, then. "Save that we were indeed blessed. That is all the more assurance that all was intended and completed as it should."
The very smallest of smiles tugs at the corner of Seldan's lips. If only Lord Lupecyll-Atlon knew the half of what She has seen me through, he thinks silently to himself, and gets to his feet, brushing away the last of the tears. "So She is," is all he says aloud, letting out another breath and looking around. "Nay. This place is not mine to claim, Lord Lupecyll-Atlon. It belongs to my ancestors, and my honored father denies me all name and inheritance. No claim have I, here, although it is in my mind that Grandmother is not of the same mind. Still is it not for me to decide. I would go and call upon her, if that please you, though I would, at the least, cleanse myself. I would not be thanked to stain the floors."
The small smile lingers. There is more processing and prayer to be done, but that can wait. The family deserves to know the fate of the manor. "I sense neither evil, nor magic here. I think it safe to rest here, though I know not the hour, I think it too late to call upon the family this evening."
Telamon's lip curls in a way that suggests he's about to say something monumentally undiplomatic, but he manages to keep his temper, instead replying, "Your honored father is in error. But we've had this discussion before." A deep breath, before he continues, "I think we could probably use the parlor. There's a fireplace there, and we should be able to make camp there if you want."
His lips quirk. "Or I could use my vestment, and my mansion scroll, and we could rest there. It's up to you, sir. The mansion does have bathing facilities, hot tea, and a full pantry." He smirks faintly. "I guess you can tell I'm not good at 'roughing it'."
Seldan's words make Zeke look down at himself and... he is suddenly rather aware of the fact that he is as Seldan suggested, in no state to be seen. His clothes are in ruins, only the portions protected by his armor remain intact and his own blood stains every part of him. He is embarrassed that the rush of adrenaline and the connection to the divine had caused him to ignore this fact. For the moment he keeps his peace, willing to let Seldan and Telamon decide on what accommodations are desired.
"I would not decline an opportunity to bathe," Verna informs Seldan, "and possibly enjoy pastry or three. I am no more adept at wilderness survival than Telamon, yet you are yet the host, Seldan, regardless of your father's opinion. Thus I defer to your preferences."
The tiny smile broadens, and Seldan finally gathers his wits enough to sheathe Reunion. "In truth had I hoped that one of you carried such a scroll. I know not if any hearth within this place remains intact, and I, too, would welcome the opportunity to bathe." He looks down at himself - while his armor remains clean, everything else is stained with that glittery black substance. "And mend and clean clothing. I sense no evil here. This place is safe enough."
"You two do look a bit of a mess," Telamon replies with a grin. "So I'll be happy to contribute to fixing that. First things first..." He touches the hem of his vestment, then his haversack, before walking over to one of the foyer walls. Delicately, he traces a rectangle on the wall that begins to expand into a faint shimmering, four feet wide and eight feet high.
Once that's done, he pauses, then nods. "Alright. Portal stable and secure. If you have any additional luggage, please bring it with you when we enter."
Though Zeke would say nothing of the sort - and has said nothing of the sort - he is in fact quite eager to seek out warmth. However it happens to come about. The blue-scale nods seriously to Seldan, but he has no 'luggage' to bring with him save what is already on his body. Which means he simply awaits to follow them into the place that Telamon has made.
Verna was neither gnawed nor clawed upon, thus her weariness is more internal. As well, her presentability may be less dubious. Thus her motivations may be more of company rather than necessity. She observes her brother-in-bond's effecting of the magic impassively before deferring once more to Seldan, as yet their host, and Zeke, even if he does not complain of the cold. A gesture is made to the portal. "After you... and my thanks Telamon, though I daresay it is a respite well-earned all the same."
Seldan has little more than his weapons and armor, the cloaks, and the knapsack, all of which they'd brought with them on moving through the house, but readily turns, with a last glance at the foyer, and leads the way into the shimmering portal. He is quite clearly familiar with the magic, and comfortable with it. Before entering, he turns back to the others. "With the morn shall we return to the Padaryn residence, although we should send word ahead. For now, we should rest, eat, and cleanse ourselves, and take the time to thank those who have aided us so much."
That said, he turns and strides into the mansion.
Telamon lets the others enter first, stepping in behind them, as they are suddenly elsewhere...
The night sky spills out above them like diamonds on black velvet, a full Eluna glowing there like a silvery lamp. The quartet are standing on a paved road leading to a campsite -- but 'campsite' is really kind of understating it. This looks more like a cross between a fey nobleman's idea of roughing it and a Veyshanti pasha's pavilion, with tents the size of houses staked firmly down int the soil, the silken walls colored in white and blue under the moonlight. Here and there, translucent servitors can be seen standing ready for orders, and the air is warm and comfortable.
Telamon blushes brightly, and says, "...Oh. I forgot, I set this up for our anniversary. All the facilities are here -- baths, food, beds -- just in a Veyshanti style." He runs his hand through his hair. "Lana was very impressed with it."
Zeke nods politely to everyone, each person in turn. "Thisss one will take thisss one's leave." With that he heads toward an area where he can change and cleanse himself.
Seldan merely stands where he is, for a moment, blinking at the arrangement. "Impressive indeed. It had not come to me that the spell could be offered in as many styles." The words are formal, and he looks after Zeke as the sith-makar eagerly takes adantage of the facilities, no matter how provided. For himself, he is only a touch more hesitant, and starts towards the baths as well. "I will need the aid of one of the servants," he tells Telamon, beginning to loosen a reachable leather strap on one of his sabatons.
"Intriguing..." Verna remarks of the scenery and decor of the spell. She may be taking copious mental notes for future use. "Are the tents arranged for individual use, or are the facilities common?" On the note of the latter, she looks to Seldan and offers, perhaps uncertain of his need or intent, "Do you require assistance I could provide, Seldan?"
Telamon nods, and points to three of the translucent servitors. "You, you, and you. Go with Sir Seldan and Zeke, give them any assistance they need." The silent, glassine figures nod, and follow along with Zeke and Seldan, as Tel smiles at Verna. "Both. The outer tents are for individual use, but the central tent is kind of a dining hall and parlor."
As the group moves into the camp, Tel crooks a finger at two other servitors. "You two. Do what Verna says." He offers her a grin. "Just in case you need help as well."
The night gives way to day, and Zeke is - perhaps unsurprisingly - the first up. Even before dawn breaks the sith-makar is settled in the main area with a cup of tea, his morning absolutions and his morning prayers already completed. He is quiet and unobtrusive, the tea provided by himself rather than the use of the servants - who had certainly done their best to be of service to him - but he is unaccustomed to such and in the end they leave him mostly to be so as to not disturb him.
As it happened, the assistance provided was more than enough for Seldan, and he had retired to bathe, clean clothes, and change. He had also offered to take on the cleaning of others' clothing as well, but it was some time before he'd retired after his own meditations and extensive prayers, and thus has not yet put in an appearance this morning.
Verna is not the first to rise, and it seems not the last as she enters the commons. Adorned in clean robes with cloak and satchel borne by the poltergeist porters, her only accompanying belonging is the book hovering before her. A small tome, for morning light reading, it appears. "Good morn to you," she greets Zeke as she seats herself. "Are you prepared for the day and beyond?"
Telamon is not a morning person. He never has been. And after bathing and a meal, he slept deeply. He finally manages to rouse when he hears voices from the main tent, getting dressed and his hair combed before walking into the common area. "Mmmph," he mumbles, sitting down with Verna. A helpful servitor brings him a large mug of coffee, which he promptly starts to drink. "Sir Seldan not up yet?" He rubs his face with his free hand, trying to bring himself to full wakefulness.
Zeke turns his gaze toward Verna as she arrives, offering her a polite nod that is more greeting than answer to her question. "Perhapssss." It's a rather uncertain answer. Zeke notices that Telamon is next to enter, and offers him a nod as well, though the fact that Seldan is not yet here causes the sith to let out a rumble of concern. "He isss not."
"There is not strong urgency, correct?" Verna inquires of both to confirm before she directs a servant bring tea for herself. "I believe that he is more than deserving of additional rest and leisure, regardless that he is unlikely to actively seek such."
Telamon hmmms. "Well, the spell will only last for about a day and a half. Then I have to recast it. Still..." He downs the rest of the coffee in one draw, before setting the mug down and rising to his feet. "If nothing else, he might need breakfast."
The half elf makes his way out of the common tent, approaching the one Seldan had taken for the evening. Carefully, he stops at the outer door-flap, and calls, "Sir Seldan? Are you still sleeping?"
As it happens, Seldan most certainly is still asleep. It seems that he isn't a morning person either, for all that he manages to be functional at impossible hours of the morning. That behavior is most likely learned, judging from the man who is only now stirring amid the massive floor cushions that serve as a bed. He is shirtless, his back to the tent flap, his left side turned up to the world. Interestingly, the covers are mostly pushed off, revealing an exact copy of Rhain's diagram inscribed as a tattoo across his left side. He half-sits up, and rolls over, blinking blearily. "It is time? A moment, then, and forgive my laziness."
Zeke, hearing the sound of Seldan's voice from across the area, relaxes somewhat. He hopes that Telamon will relay to Seldan that they are in no rush and that he can take his time. The blue-scale himself doesn't stir from his spot, merely continuing to sip his tea at a relaxed pace.
Verna glances towards the tent/room without any real concern for Seldan's sleeping in. The artwork is noted, though perhaps not some of the significance. She has witnessed the sight often enough that it is not surprising, yet not so frequently that a change would be immediately noticed. "You are not lazy. There is naught to forgive. Msot of us only recently roused, ourselves."
Telamon's eyebrows rise a fraction at the new markings on Seldan, but he doesn't say anything for the moment, instead offering a genial grin. "Plenty of time. We were just concerned." He chuckles. "I'm not much of a morning person either. In any case, no rush -- when you come out, there'll be tea, coffee, and pastries for breakfast." With that, he withdraws, returning to the others. "Verna, Zeke, can I interest you in some coffee?"
"Very well," Seldan murmurs sleepily, rolling over and pushing himself to a sitting position. "I had not intended to alarm." That is allow he says before Telamon withdraws, but sounds from the tent suggest that he is also rousing - at least for select values of rousing.
Zeke looks up at Telamon's query, tilting his head to the side and considering it. "Thisss one hass never had it. It hasss a very ssstrong ssscent." However, he can admit to some curiosity on the matter considering that others seem to find it pleasant in spite of its pungent aroma. "Thisss one will try it." This is in fact a double-edge complement to Telamon after a fashion. His implicit trust that the sorcerer provide such for him, and that this thing that he has not tried will be pleasant.
"No, but thank you," Verna declines Telamon's offer of coffee in favor of her current tea. "I may partake of a pastry or two, at the appropriate time." After another sip of tea, she then glances to Zeke and his own quiet caffeine consumption. This is followed by a casual glance to Seldan's tent and back. "I must admit that this is a rather novel pace of things when away from home. Unusual, but certainly not unwelcome, especially given the company present."
One of the servants pours a small cup for Zeke, and Telamon pushes across a couple bowls of cream and sugar. "If you don't like it, it's no harm. Lana prefers tea in the mornings, herself." His own coffee refilled, Tel continues, "I've never 'roughed it' very well. Maybe that makes me a bit soft, but what's the point of vast magical skills if you don't use it to make your friends' lives more comfortable?" He taps a fingertip on the low table. "In any case, we're not in a grand rush. And I think we'll all need to time to... contemplate what we saw. And how it might affect us."
Zeke accepts the small cup of dark, unfamiliar liquid and unconsciously sniffs it. It certainly is pungent, and the scent perks his appetite. Curious. The blue-scale hesitantly tastes the drink and then blinks at the cup in surprise. He is certainly astonished to find that it is every bit as flavorful as it is strongly scented. However where he expects it to be too overwhelming to be pleasant... it has a certain quality to it that is pleasing. Cautiously he tries it again and blinks at the cup.
After a few experimentations - during which Zeke is a bit distracted by this new drink - Zeke discovers that a little bit of the milk added to the coffee makes it far less bitter and more pleasing to drink. The addition of sugar is also a pleasant thing, adding a sweet flavor to the bitterness that lingers.
"Thisss one isss unscertain what to make of what happened." Zeke remarks at length, his cup of coffee largely gone after his exhaustive testing.
Verna observes Zeke's evaluation of the drink. In large part, her interest is in his methodology, though it expands promptly to his reaction and expressions (in as much as she can interpret them, which is just one more intriguing aspect to the observation). All while she slowly sips her tea or rests her hands, clasped, on the table.
There is also contemplation as Telamon mentioned. "There may be much of what happened we cannot fully comprehend, or not adequately articulate. There was ... a touch of the divine, for lack of any better term at present."
"Absolutely. We all heard it, felt it. And..." Telamon takes another sip from his mug. "I think it made the difference. We are the hands of the gods, and they gave us the tools we would need to be victorious." He looks thoughtful. "Though I wonder -- no, this isn't the place for experiments. It can wait till we return to Alexandria. But I think it's safe to say we've managed to expunge whatever was nesting here."
He stretches. "It's important to remember that when you succeed at something like this... take comfort in it. Dwell on it, if you like. It's important to remember what you fight for."
Seldan finally darkens the door of the tent, dressed in shirt, trousers, boots, and robe, short hair combed into place. He rubs at his eyes, and has dark circles under them, and is clearly short of sleep, but ice-blue eyes blink at the gathering. "Her light upon your path," he greets automatically. "Forgive me. I had not intended to keep any waiting." It seems that any protestations of there being no rush had fallen on deaf ears.
He is, however, awake enough to catch the thread of the conversation. "I have sensed neither evil nor magic in the mansion, and both did I sense, ere we destroyed that - thing. I would ensure that the Eye is also destroyed." A long, long moment of silence, and a deep breath. "Truly are we the hands of the gods, indeed, and She willed it done. Truly aer we blessed. I am grateful for your help, all of you. You have my thanks for the aid."
Zeke looks up at Seldan's arrival, shaking his head a little at the other man and draining the last of his cup so that he can set it aside. "Kin... How many timessss mussst thisss one tell you that you need not sssay 'thankssss'? Thisss one isss grateful to have the opportunity to aid you. After every-thing which you have done for others, for thisss one even... thisss one hasss been able to help. Thisss one ssshould be sssaying 'thanksss' to you."
Verna gestures a hand to Zeke as she eyes Seldan firmly. "He is correct on all counts. You have ever aided others, to include all of us present. Even if you had not, Seldan, we are all allies, friends, even family. We are, all of us, eager to assist you when and how we may." A moment's pause before she adds, "To that end, how might we aid you in seeing the Eye destroyed?"
Telamon offers a smile. "How about we agree to call it a group effort and be thankful we were equal to the challenge? That way, we skip all the discussion over who should thank whom." He picks up a pastry, biting into it and chewing thoughtfully. "Hmm. I would've thought the Eye would be destroyed when we killed that thing, but... you're probably right. We should sweep the house thoroughly in any case. Even if the Eye was destroyed when that pocket collapsed, there may be other magical devices left behind by Rhain -- or traps. We don't need scavengers rummaging around here now that the house has been unsealed."
Seldan's eyes have drifted to the floor as first Zeke and then Verna speak, but Telamon chimes in before he can answer, and with a small sigh, he reluctantly sets the matter aside for the moment. "I would return aught that we find to Her Temple, rather than to the Magician's Guild. The accuracy of their recordkeeping inspires little confidence as to their responsible stewardship of such items."
He moves further into the room, sniffing curiously at the air, and starts towards the table with tea, coffee, and pastries. "Once that is done, I would call upon Grandmother, if she be well enough to receive us. I would be - circumspect, yet truthful, with her. Naught do any of my family, save I, know of the arcane." He almost seems to be musing. "I would, I think, share with her that Rhain Padaryn was an accomplished wizard, but attempted that which should be reserved to the divine alone, and found himself trapped within that which he had created. We were able to free him. He is not alone in such an error."
Zeke notices Seldan's demeanor and makes a soft sound but he does not press the subject any further at request. His own eyes fall upon his empty cup set aside and is surprised when one of the unseen servants arrives at his side with offerings of food. He blinks at the tray and cautiously accepts a pastry. This receives a sniffing as well. Magically created food. Telamon created food. He takes a small bite.
Verna acquires herself a pastry -make that two- after the others lay claim to theirs. "Her temple and the attendants therein would secure whatever need be." She has no doubts of that, and any differing opinions she may or may not hold concerning the Society are not voiced. Instead, she begins to indulge in one of the pastries claimed.
Telamon nods, his expression a touch sardonic. "I can't argue that one, Sir Seldan. Though I wonder if the Guild really understood what kind of artifact it was holding with the Eye. Wouldn't be the first time some apparently minor magical item turned out to be a real menace."
He regards Seldan sympathetically. "If I might offer -- make it clear that whatever Rhain's errors, his failure in judgement... he is free now, and has moved on. I think that would comfort her." Tel pauses, his expression a little cagey. "Are we likely to encounter other members of your family?"
"Even so, and your thought is well-taken." At the table, Seldan eyes the coffee with some curiosity, but pours himself a cup of tea, and takes two of the pastries, turning to find a seat. "On both counts." He hesitates, tea halfway to his lips, and lowers the cup, as well as his gaze. "Well we might. I would spare you that. Perhaps it is well, did you return to Alexandria, and I shall remain here to see to family matters."
Zeke pauses with the pastry halfway to his mouth for a second bite and looks at Seldan curiously. "Do you mean to go alone?" His voice is touched with concern.
Verna's brows lift as Zeke voices a concern that is likely shared. "Your family matters are your prerogative and I would never impinge upon nor interfere with them without your request... yet it may be prudent that we are not wholly absent? That we might, when all is completed, return to Alexandria together just as we departed?"
"Not really feeling that, Sir Seldan," Telamon drawls. "As Verna said, we started this together, we finish it together." He snorts. "Besides, your family can't be any worse than Galon Calogref. Or Glorenacil Lupecyll. You get the idea."
He gives Seldan a crooked grin. "I mean, really, after what we just faced, do you really think we'd be daunted by your family? I just wanted to know in case I needed to put on my usual 'poncy half-elf' attitude."
"The last time I came face to face with my honored father, it came to blows." Seldan closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath then takes a sip of his tea. "I would not turn friends and allies away, but I would not have you uncomfortable. It is unlikely that Father is in better humor than he was that day."
One of the names draws a ghost of a smile to Seldan's lips, though. "There shall not be demons nor devils, that can I promise you."
Zeke lowers his pastry entirely, fixing his kin in his gaze. "If you will allow, thisss one would accompany you. Thissss one knowsss what it isss like to fassce thossse who are clossse kin but offer only pain. Thisss one doesss not wisssh for you to do ssso alone." His green eyes light a little, and though he does not say it out loud the truth is in his heart. If anyone - even Seldan's own nest-father - were to try to harm Seldan... Zeke would not hesitate to make them rethink the error of their ways.
"I abandoned my House name even before I departed Charn," Verna notes, "and with good reason. In addition to the many trials we have shared together, it appears that familial strife is one more aspect we share. I expect that you would find my mother as intolerable as I, Seldan. I doubt your family would cause any of us discomfort... aside from, perhaps, their treatment of you."
"I think that resolves that question, Sir Seldan." Telamon rests his hands on the table. "You have friends, who've endured in the dark places. No reason to leave us behind now." He taps his fingers together lightly. "I think this is a good plan. Check the manor over, collect any surviving materials -- those can go to you, if you wish, Sir Seldan, though I might make you an offer on some of the books. Or Verna might." His eyes twinkle impishly.
"We'll also determine if the Eye survived the destruction of that creature. If it did, we need to dispose of it. Once we're done, we'll go to visit your Grandmother." Tel hmms. "Should we bring a gift?"
Left without words, Seldan sets aside his pastries and perches on the edge of the chair, staring down into the teacup he holds in both hands. This persists for the entire time they are talking, and several breaths more. "Very well, and you are kind indeed. It is not in my mind that Father will attempt anything, if what Grandmother says is true, and less likely still is it that he will do so in her presence. Grandmother brooks not poor behavior. Kin, I would commend to you the robes of the Sunguard, for this meeting. Father will mind himself in the presence of a Sunguard, as surely as he will in Grandmother's presence. It may even be that we shall not encounter him."
He finally lifts the tea to his lips and takes a sip, then yawns, belatedly covering his mouth. "It is in my mind that the key to a manor she may safely enter shall be gift enough." Another sip of tea, and he stands, resuming at least most of his usual sober thoughtfulness. "Come, let us search the manor, that we may call upon Grandmother in good time."
The search of the manor turns up very little. It's like in the act of the eviction of the Void, something had gone in and cleaned things up--as well as revealing the true layout of the house. Many rooms are different than what had been presented in the void-twisted version of Ivyhold--bare, dusty, with furniture that's broken or simply just hasn't been used in well over a century.
Reagents and ingredients, some long since dried up and unusable, linger in one room that can be identified as Rhain Padaryn's room. This time, there are no pages, no blood, no eye... And no Eye. Gone.
However, the very first book within Rhain Padaryn's office that Seldan opens up seems to have been fated for him. On the first page that his fingers go to, there's a drawing. A silhouette of a woman holding the hands of two men. He knows exactly who they are.
The rest of the book is entirely blank. But it's an indication that something happened here.
A reunion.