Rashar is spending some time with Kerryn north of Enorian. Nyrus shows up randomly and mild fiery things happen.
You have emoted: Rashar seems on the verge of speaking when Nyrus appears, but the arrival elicits an immediate halt to that. Simply he states, "There is nothing you can do," while studying the new arrival. Kerryn's words have him lifting a brow. "Last time I wrestled Aren I ended up half losing my mind. You probably don't want me latched onto you, yeah? We'll leave it, for now."
"Nothing we can do?" Nyrus echoes back with an amused snort as he laces an arm around Kerryn's shoulders. "Rashar, doubting a Cardinalis is never the wisest of ideas," he levelly remarks with an amused sort of grin. His free hand opens with a flourish that reveals a ball of fiery energy set within the middle of his palm. "I haven't the faintest of ideas what you're speaking of, mind, but surely there's something."
Nyrus molds a brilliant orb into existence between his hands. As he places it on the ground, a radiant light illuminates everything in the area.
The orb of light casts a warm golden glow over everything nearby. The flames flicker and jump as air currents move around them, though the fire is in no danger of sputtering out. It stays within its spherical boundary, which keeps the surface cool to the touch.
"He is remarkably sturdy." Kerryn points out with a gesture to Nyrus. "And I'm sure there's something we can do." she says before quickly leaning over to peck your cheek. "See, didn't forget."
You have emoted: Rashar's expression turns down as his arm comes up, waving shortly. Darkness erupts from his palm, coalescing into a growing shadow that slips through the entire area. "Need you remind me?" he rumbles darkly, ".. that the fire is lost to me?" He leans down, raking fingers still dripping with something much like liquid darkness through his hair. "And I doubt very much when it comes to most of your family. Have you met Tina?"
"Fire is never lost to anybody," Nyrus remarks with a vague wrinkle of his nose. A slender finger points towards the glowing sphere of light that seems to fend off the writhing shadows in stalwart opposition. "Diminished, maybe," he agreeably amends with a slight sideways gesture of his head. "But never lost."
Kerryn looks up, watching the darkness swirl around the immediate area, "I use to be worse." she stares. "I've calmed down a bit."
You have emoted: Rashar lifts an eyebrow. "Worse than Tina?" he asks, and then snorts. "I don't see you asking a feller to mop the floors of a temple in repayment for a war that happened decades ago." He shrugs, as if it weren't of any consequence, and then flashes a grin at Nyrus. Tapping his chest, he murmurs, "Diminished? I think not. Only lost. Sooner or later, it will destroy me. A man can withstand only so much fire, even his own."
"You don't seem to understand me," Nyrus more concisely says, eyebrows narrowing slightly in thought. With two steps forward he finds himself directly before you, a hand lifting to place itself upon your chest. The Yeleni's own glows brightly, warmly upon contact. "Do you feel that?" he regards, head tilting.
A radiant warmth blossoms beneath the flesh under the Yeleni's touch, surging and pulsing with vitality. A rhythmic staccato much like a heartbeat forms in steady bursts of warmth across your skin.
"Do not move," comes a firm instruction within the back of your mind.
You have emoted: Rashar seizes with the touch, eyes narrowing. His lips peel back into something like a snarl that reveals a pair of gleaming fangs. The cores of his eyes, softly glowing before, blaze with an intensity to match the clench of his fists into the earth to either side of him. Muscles writhing along his arms and core, he seems stuck between pulling away and attacking Nyrus. "Do not unicorns with me," he hisses in quiet warning. Faintly, likely unnoticed by a less than discerning observer, the Idreth trembles.
"I would do no such thing," Nyrus lowly regards, his emerald eyes alight with an intensity that only manages to rival your in a minor way. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, he pulls his hand back to hover only a few inches away from the flesh of your chest, where the skin behind is left a dull, glowing orange that pulses in sync with the glow of the Yeleni's hand. "Do you see that?" he queries as his hand pulls lightly at the air, an action that only increases the brilliance upon which glows from beneath the flesh. "Your spark." He locks eyes with you and arches a brow before almost challengingly asking, "How is it lost if I've found it so easily?"
Kerryn's gaze darts back and forth between you and Nyrus, clearly conflicted as to step in and try to defuse the situation or allow it to escalate. Biting down on her lower lip, she lifts her hand
and moves to lightly touch your shoulder, should you allow her.
You have emoted: "You think I can't feel it?" Rashar growls in query, not bothering to look down. "Every day, feller. Every unicorns day I watch the sun rise, and every night I watch the sun set, and through it all I -burn-." His fist comes up, dripping dirt and blades of grass, and he hisses, "And I can no more touch it than I can turn this earth to gold. It. Just. Burns. Lost?" His grunted laugh is low, and not very pleasant. "Maybe not, Nyrus. But lost to me." Kerryn's touch has him flinching, but it's a mindless thing and lasts only an instant before he crawls sideways, leaning his weight right into the smaller woman.
"It knows," Nyrus more so breathes in than speaks as fiery tendrils curl between his fingers, weaving their way between index finger and ring finger like a slithering snake as he pulls his hand back. "It knows of your struggle, and it burns to remind you it exists," he declares. Brilliantly the flames flash within his hand like a flare, like a beacon in the way it illuminates the darkness that curls through the surroundings. "Are you going to keep fighting it?" he questions before violently uncurling his fingers in a way that shoots the fiery tendrils skywards in a bursting amalgamation that banishes the darkness in its entirety. "Or do you plan on following it again, for the first time in far too long?"
Kerryn pulls her hand away as you flinches, yet as you leans into her, she offers you a reassuring smile. "Perhaps there is something to what he says, maybe it's telling you where you truly belong." she frowns a little, "Even if it's a difficult thing... to move past what happened." she gives a small shake of her head, "It's hard to say sometimes, what lessons we're meant to learn when the path we walk is unclear."
You have emoted: Trembling still, Rashar turns his eyes away from Nyrus. Looking off down the road, he becomes lost in his own head for a time. Minutes pass during which he sways slightly, pressing himself against Kerryn without allowing his weight to collapse into her. "Put it away," he says quietly, eventually. There is nothing in his tone, nothing in his gaze to indicate what transpires behind those dark eyes, and he certainly speaks no word of agreement. "You've made your point."
And just like that, the flames diminish themselves around Nyrus as they're left naught but burning embers that soon fizzle out in contrast to the sun's rays that permeate the air around you. "As mentioned before," he comments firmly. "We are here to help." Almost symbolically, a hand stretches downwards towards your prone form, fingers curled outwards in a welcoming manner.
Kerryn presses a kiss to your temple, "Want my pot?" she asks, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. "I'll even let you throw it at me." she teases gently, giving your shoulder a playful nudge, "What do you say?"
You have emoted: Nothing but pride occupies that shadow skinned face now, as Rashar pushes himself up with clenched jaws, grinding teeth, and a stubborn set to his eyes. He glances back and forth between the two of you but says nothing until he's completely upright, supporting his weight and not touching Kerryn. "The pot is not necessary," is what he finally manages. A whoosh of air as his sigh is released, and then he mutters, "I appreciate you."
Nyrus drops his hand to his side without so much as a visible reaction to its outright dismissal. Over his shoulder he cranes his neck towards the city, and then towards the forests that loom off in the distance to the north. "A pot in anybody's hands but yours is merely a pot mother dearest," he finally remarks in an attempt to break his own silence as he casts Kerryn a fond grin.