By now, Emet-Selch knows better than to trust any of the food. He still partakes in it, but never without expecting something to go wrong and he usually tries to stay away from unwanted company. Today is different altogether, he hasn't been in the mood for any sort of celebration, troubled by the appearance of more scions and ... the Warrior of Light. Or had that been an illusion? Either way he hates it.
And either way, he's all the more disappointed — perhaps even a bit frightened — when he happens to excuse himself from crowds also and finds himself in the dim but familiar glow of a very familiar soul.
What's left of the soul, anyway.
His breath leaves him silently, but then he shakes his head, stepping up once he sees that the hero is not looking particularly cheerful. The Ascian knows he shouldn't talk to him. He should avoid him at all costs, knowing he is an enemy and nothing at all like their long lost friend. Yet here he is.
"And here I didn't think you capable of brooding, hero."
merry and bright
And either way, he's all the more disappointed — perhaps even a bit frightened — when he happens to excuse himself from crowds also and finds himself in the dim but familiar glow of a very familiar soul.
What's left of the soul, anyway.
His breath leaves him silently, but then he shakes his head, stepping up once he sees that the hero is not looking particularly cheerful. The Ascian knows he shouldn't talk to him. He should avoid him at all costs, knowing he is an enemy and nothing at all like their long lost friend. Yet here he is.
"And here I didn't think you capable of brooding, hero."