"An Ally in the Temple" Log Date: 7/11/00 Log Cast: Naiadre, Rhys, Kaiulani, Artin Log Intro: Much to her deep shock and distress, Kaiulani has learned directly from her cousin Sarojin that he has issued orders to her guardsmen that if they cannot capture her mysterious nameless protector, then they are to kill him. Appalled that her kinsman could be so coldly brutal, disheartened that the vast majority of her family members still do not accept her own heartfelt conviction that the strange personage who has kept watch over her all her life is doing it because he is _good_, Kai keeps to the Korallion only now because her sister specifically asked it of her--and shies away in distress from her two guards Akane and Ronan, not knowing when they will try to harm the person somewhere out there she _knows_ cares about her well-being. One tiny little corner of her mind doubts where her heart does not, though, just enough of a corner that Kai does also ask herself whether her family might be right. She does not wawnt to believe them--she doesn't want her dream rescuer to prove a lie. But then again, she doesn't want to think that her own cousin might cold-bloodedly order the killing of an innocent man, either. In turmoil, her budding telepathic gifts stirred up by her agitation, Kaiulani finds her control slipping on her thoughts. And it is this that brings her to the attention of the First Acolyte of the temple of Pasiphae, as well as a man who introduces himself only as Rhys.... *===========================< In Character Time >===========================* Time of day: Morning Date on Aether: Tuesday, October 7, 3906. Year on Earth: 1506 A.D. Phase of the Moon: First Quarter Season: Fall Weather: Clouds Temperature: Cool *==========================================================================* You leave the entrance hall, making your way into the courtyard. Courtyard - Korallion - Haven The entrance to the Korallion is preceded by a large courtyard. It is surrounded by a natural rock wall, though the floor has been smoothed and layered with deep blue coral. To the north is an opening in the wall which leads out onto the bridge back to Haven; its pearl gates carved to resemble strands of seaweed arching to the sky. To the south is the most impressive sight of any shore, the Korallion itself. Embedded into the rocky island is a tall spire shaped like a giant nautilus. Its peak is perhaps 100 feet above you and its width about equal to that. On the right side of its base is a large opening, which you imagine must, like a shell, move its way to the top. There is a dampness to the courtyard, with a constant layer of sea water on the ground and the natural rock walls. They are covered in lichen of the most impressive colors: reds, purples, blues and greens. You see now how the Atlanteans use the ocean's natural beauty to highlight their own habitats, and the Korallion surely must be one of the more impressive. Contents: Naiadre Artin Sentries Rhys(#335PJXc$) Obvious exits: Temple Nautilus Opening Bridge to Haven Naiadre folds her hands before her, regarding Rhys steadily. *I see.* Comes her quiet reply. *Reparation is considered sufficient when forgiveness is given, by all parties involved in something. Whose forgiveness do you have yet to earn? Pasiphae's, Tsaruko's...or your own?* She questions. She stands just below the dais to the temple, next to Rhys, in silent conversation. Rhys sometimes forgets (as he does now) to speak on a 'private band', telepathically. His response is telepathically 'audible' to any who draw near the dias. Fortunately, the Courtyard is not crowded at this time of day. All three, I think. But I am closer earning her forgiveness than Pasiphae's, I feel. Advise me, Acolyte. What can I do? It's not an order. It's more a plea - unusual from one brought up to command, taught never to beg. Not the only one to be forgetful of restricting himself in the speech of minds, Kaiulani emerges into the courtyard -- and as she does, her presence might be felt to register as a disturbed swirl of emotions on the fringes of mental awareness. The maiden's scowling moodily to fit with this as well; unlike many of the Children of Water, she seems inclined to wear emotions on her face as well as broadcast them out for general consumption. For once, she's not guarded -- but then again, she's managed to convince Akane and Ronan that she doesn't intend to set foot outside the Korallion. Well... at least for now. Scowling all the way, the maiden casts a stormy glance around the courtyard, and then turns towards the temple. Naiadre gives him a reassuring smile, both physical and mental, threads of sunny orange woven into her thoughts. *You cannot expect others to forgive you until you've forgiven yourself, Rhys.* The idea of forgiveness within her is quite strong, as if directed by a divine hand, a flame that guides her own path. She offers to share it with him in images and the kindness of understanding. *If you are unsure how to proceed, perhaps prayer and meditation would aid you. The answers you need can be found within yourself and within Her.* Naiadre winces as she finishes her 'speech', feeling inner peace accosted. She turns a disapproving glance at Kaiulani, shielding off her inner self. Rhys siezes the suggestion as if it were salt-water to be poured over someone suffering freshwater-sickness. Prayer, yes. Meditation -- it seems/sounds right, and he offers in deep teal colors a thankfulness/gratitude. And then the sense of a scowl intrudes, and his 'private mind' barriers harden, becoming impenetrable walls even as Kaiulani's mood tracks through his public mind. He turns to find the source of such a stormy sense of self-at-this-moment, and black eyes narrow fractionally, but he doesn't shut down his whole mind as he had before when he accosted Naiadre. Polite, the sending that he wings towards the pale and approaching girl: Peace of Pasiphae. And under it, the sensation that perhaps he feels that this one might need that peace at least as much as he does. Rhys Tall, taller, but not the tallest. Slender and raven-haired, this blue-skinned Atlantean eschews current fashion, keeping his black hair cropped at what is approximately chin-length. Most of the time, it is twisted away from his face and further confined by a single Shaped coral pin, encrusted with grey pearls. That face needs no ornamentation to make it easy on the eyes- strong features (a square chin, a straight nose, large black-on-black eyes and high cheekbones) combine with a set of dimples, visible even when his expression is neutral. That blue skin is mottled with silvery color about his eyes, his hands, and his feet, dripping down from his forehead and streaking up his wrists and calves. His muscles wrap neatly around that long frame with economy of body mass, making him seem, perhaps, thinner and taller than he truly is. Or maybe it is his attitude. Rhys wears very little: the briefest of clouts in white-edged sea-blue fabric reveals that his frame is consistently well muscled, that fins trail up the backs of his calves, disappearing as they reach his knees. Naiadre Slender and lithe, Naiadre's small 5'5" stature does nothing to diminish her graceful stance and proud bearing. The delicate features of her face are generous and finely carved, revealing gentleness, but also a quiet fire, in the arch of her cheekbones and the firm curve of her mouth. Large eyes of the palest jade are set far apart, contrasting vividly with the creamy tan of her skin. A few sun-kisses dance across the bridge of her small nose, and a dimple reveals itself when she is joyful. Her hair is primarily deep aquamarine, with chunks of amethyst, coral and kelp peeking out. Banding her forehead is a silver diadem set with a firewater opal, declaring her status and service in Pasiphae's temple. Two braids of multi-colored hair fall before each ear with strands of small white pearls and bits of red coral woven through them. Her curvy form is clad in a sari of shimmery blue, like the underside of a scallop shell. Its folds wind about her thighs to make a short skirt, then twines up her torso to knot behind her neck, leaving her arms and parts of her back and legs bare. Zoris adorn her feet, lacing up to shapely ankles. A dagger, more ceremonial than weapon-like, is strapped to her right hip. Closer inspection reveals the prescence of gills laying flat along the column of her neck, the slits barely noticeable, save for the occasional flash of pale blue within. Delicate blue webbing stretches between her fingers and toes, further revealing her watery heritage. Pale blue fins lay concealed against the skin of her back, upper arms and calves, hardly visible to the unknowing eye. Her voice is a clear and harmonious lilt, giving evidence to her skill as a singer. A waft of brine and fresh sea smells drift towards anyone drawing close to her. She has the look of youth to her, despite the wisdom in her eyes. Kaiulani With skin just a shade or two darker than the clearest, palest moonlight, and with delicate webbing between her fingers and gossamer fins accentuating her wrists and ankles, this young maiden can be nothing but an Atlantean -- and a noble-born one, if the confidence of her bearing and the beauty of her features is any indication. Her hair is long and flowing, the exact shade of the inside of an oyster's shell: pearlescent white at first glance, gleaming with subtle shades of pink and blue and violet in the right light. Eyes of a deep, rich sea-green meet the world with a regard as apt to change as weather over the ocean, sometimes moody, sometimes gay, but always full of a fearless, vibrant life. When she is actually standing still, she might be noted to stand no taller than five foot two, but her every word and action speaks of a spirit unbounded by her diminutive frame. Like most of the Children of Water, she wears very little. At the moment she's clad in a halter and breechclout of foam-green, around which she's wrapped a loose leyang of coral-colored gauze. A coral headpiece decorated with a single pearl keeps most of her mane of hair out of her face, guiding it backwards to spill in a glimmering wave down past her shoulders. On her feet, in deference to the need to walk upon the land, she sports fine, thin sandals. The newly arrived maiden seems to catch herself up a bit as the attention of the others turns to her, and for a fraction of an instant Kaiulani's delicate features twist in a bit of a wince of their own before they settle into an approximation of the restraint oft demonstrated by the nobly born. A similar withdrawal happens with the impact of her thoughts, though her presence doesn't withdraw entirely, lingering like the scent of salt over the waves. *Pure Water,* comes her response, earnest and polite, flavored with a tinge of self-directed chagrin and frustration. *Pray do not let me interrupt... is... the temple open, right now?* And she casts an evidently troubled glance towards its entrance, fine pale brows knitting over her eyes. Naiadre's frown disappears like the mist under the sun as Kaiulani demonstrates some restraint with the slack rein she's given her mind. *Pasiphae's Blessings.* She greets the woman quietly, adding the landdweller nod for emphasis to her next words. *The Temple is hardly ever closed. I am First Acolyte Naiadre; is there something I can help you with?* He doesn't move, physically, but Rhys tries to 'fade' to the senses of the other two women, not exactly withdrawing himself from conversation, but definitely taking a backseat as a merely aware watcher - at least for a while. His face continues to show nothing but serenity - the same serenity that Riva shows, as if the two Ormani were stamped from the same mold. A similar expression to the one that Kaiulani now wears. If the girl truly needs aid, Naiadre is, Rhys's polite rumble of public thought continues (that thought which is easily 'eavesdropped' upon and is almost invited to be shared with others), the person to go to. It would seem, if the little trickles of sentiment that seep out of the girl's control are any indication, that practically bumping right into the First Acolyte of Pasiphae's followers was not exactly something Kaiulani expected. She blinks involuntarily, her surprise coursing out from her before she hauls it back in again, leaving traces of more of that self-aimed chagrin in its wake. A tinge of faintest coral colors her pale cheeks, but she apparently possesses enough composure to hold up her head and meet the pair of inquiring gazes upon her steadily enough. *I am... unversed as to the proper manners of entry,* she admits. *I was hoping perhaps... I might sit within for a while. If it is not improper.* Naiadre inclines her head, stepping to one side and gesturing to the dais gracefully. *But of course. All are welcome, regardless of race or religion. Please.* She bids. A glance is cast at Rhys, a warm smile accompanying it. Temple (open)::is, is, always. Rhys sends, a brief thought that is more concept than word, and strays farther from /language/ and deeper into pure thought-form. There's something about the edges of it that gives the intimation of deep water, before the patterns of Rhys' public mind shift, and he blinks those black graisha-eyes once, essays a land-dweller smile, a polite curving of lips, and inclines his head towards Kaiulani as well. Especially for those sore of heart/mind/soul. One can almost *feel* him exerting effort to put his public mind back in some sense of order. She's never quite encountered a mental touch like Rhys' before, and so Kaiulani quirks her head slightly for a moment, peering up at him bemusedly before flashing a sea-green glance over to include the First Acolyte as well. And once again, coral pink tinges her otherwise pale cheeks. ** trickles out of her in a rather tinier mind-voice now, wordless, embarrassed. Then she appends in words formed with a palpable effort, *My apologies. I am broadcasting again... perhaps I should go sit within, then, so I won't give anyone headaches...* Naiadre casts a glance at Rhys and then Kaiulani, straightening. She gives her a measuring look, face impassive. Telepathy>> Naiadre thinks, "You are welcome within the temple, if you wish. Pardon me, but...do you always have such problems with projecting and sheilding?" Oh, no, that's not exactly what he meant - Rhys turns a bit of a lilac color, which rapidly drains away, and he offers a thought gone bright yellow about the border with embarrasment and apology one more time. Meant (also) self. And then he adds, aloud rather than mind-to-mind, in a deep rumble of a voice that sounds quiet no matter how loud it might really be, "Please accept these apologies. I did not mean to embarrass you." The words are spoken slowly, much more slowly than the play of thought-against-thought. Rhys finds it ...limiting, and a sense of that can be taken from his general aura. So then, the question: why is he now speaking aloud instead of telepathically? Kaiulani's mouth quirks into a half-hearted little grin of her own, to Rhys' sent clarification -- and his spoken words. "Apology accepted, sir," she replies, with enough ease that it's apparent she's had the art of vocal speech already well-drilled into her. "And thank you." This is accentuated with her mind, a toss of a light wind-swept wave over the top of her soprano: oh, to be sure, she was embarrassed, but it's passing quickly enough, and there's a current of rueful good humor coming in to take its place. This isn't the first time this has happened to her, after all. With that, then, her gaze flashes to Naiadre, unthinkingly -- in answer to a private thought, perhaps? Telepathy to Naiadre>> Kaiulani's mind flares up in surprise, before she composes herself enough to send back a sheepish assent. This is composed of a momentary eddy of memory-images: the mental touches of exasperated people who are doubtless her parents, chastising her for her lack of control. A younger person, possibly a sibling, doing the same. And another image, brighter and clearer and tasting of a recent happening, Pandion Sarojin doing it again. Apparently this girl is accustomed to being regularly rebuked for not keeping her thoughts in check, despite how she's struggled to do so. *It usually happens when I'm upset,* she admits at last in words interwined with that last image. "Just Rhys." Rhys' mind-walls lighten slightly, so that simultaneously as he says the word that means his sense-of-self, the telepathic equivalent is offered: Memory-of-the-Lost, the lost being multitudes of the Lost, the Decemvirate whose Isolation is complete and has been for centuries. Telepathy>> Naiadre extends a reassuring thread of orange amongst the coral and kelp hues of her mind. There is a lingering gray thread, sour to the touch, at the mention of Pandion Sarojin. Naia adds to these colors a few words: "Might I suggest training then? There are many competent teachers about, myself included. And if there is anything I can do to ease your troubled heart, it would be my pleasure and my duty." Naiadre focuses her attention upon Kaiulani for several extended moments, perhaps a silent conversation at work. She casts a glance at Rhys as he speaks, holding her tongue. The maiden with the pearlescent hair smiles a bit more readily to Rhys now, graciously inclining her head in acknowledgement. "I am Pandion Kaiulani," is her reply, syllables falling lightly from her lips, like raindrops. In accompaniment comes her own telepathic signature: royal-sacred-height, a picture in the mind's eye of a stunning expanse of star-strewn night sky high over the fathomless waves. Her gaze is still partly on Naiadre, however, and the girl is apparently not quite skilled enough to juggle both a vocal conversation and a mental one, for a bit of strain might be sensed leaking through her thoughts. Perhaps she opts to make the best of it by compromise, for she says next, "I... am not sure if you _can_ help me, First Acolyte..." Then again, this may also be in reply to Rhys' earlier encouragement in that direction as well. Now, too, the girl's gaze flits off, helping punctuate the sense of adolescent frustration lurking behind those big sea-green eyes. "My problem is... odd." Telepathy to Naiadre>> Kaiulani sends more surprise, in a burst together with what can only be pleasure at such an offer, a passionate desire to do _something_ for once to satisfy her family -- and a hint of disquiet of her own about Sarojin, lingering under there like an octopus or shark in far deeper water. Then she appends chagrin, for she's giving _herself_ a headache now, trying to divide her attention between private talk and public, between unspoken and spoken words. She knows how to talk, does this one -- but the effort of words is still new to her. Rhys' lips twitch, ever so slightly - for a moment there's a swift sense of distaste-for-formality, but he replies, gravely, "Should you need anything at the Korallion, Pandion Kaiulani, let us know." The 'us' seems to be a bit more blurry, a bit more vague. "If you will excuse me, First Acolyte, Pandion Kaiulani, I must attend to my duties." There are hints of amusement embedded in his aura, but he's closed off to most telepathy at the moment. Naiadre smiles widely, arching a brow, clearly intrigued. "Well, odd or not, there is nothing those within the Order are better at than listening. Except perhaps praying." Her smile grows. "And strain yourself no further; I will speak aloud before I cause you pain. But exercising that muscle would be advisable." She quips. She glances at Rhys and nods, inclining her head. "Farewell," She bids. "May Pasiphae watch over you." Whatever odd problem she might possess is momentarily dismissed, for Kaiulani also possesses manners, and so she inclines her head again to Rhys by way of farewell. "I am honored to have made your acquaintance. Farewell." Naiadre watches Rhys go and turns once more to Kaiulani, still speaking aloud. "Well, do not let me stay you, Kaiulani, if you wish to enter the temple. Please..." She gestures once more. The younger woman draws in a breath, glancing towards the entrance which Naiadre indicates, then impulsively glancing back. As before, her eyes somehow manage to relay the same tendrils of emotion escaping through the tentative blocks she's attempted to put upon her own thoughts -- and both her gaze and her mind relay gratitude, a little hope, and acceptance of the First Acolyte's presence if she wishes to enter the temple as well. With that, upon light-sandaled feet, the girl vanishes within. You step on the dais of Pasiphae's Temple and walk through the illuminated opening. Temple - Korallion - Haven(#1935RJh) Darkness, that and the sense of it being unusual chilly in this coral building is the first impression after stepping inside Pasiphae's Home away from Home. As one's eyes adjust to the dimmed light this impression makes way for something completely different though. The lack of total illumination which blinds the outer world allows the eyes and other senses to pick up the beauty the gentle light of the Moon brings to all. In the middle an open space remains, no benches but cushions can be found on the cold rocky floor for those willing to rest and pray in joined silence. Above the open ceiling is covered by a blanket of seaweed through which' small openings the light sips in and provides an easy seagreen atmosphere. The temple's crescent outer form is copied inside by a rocky formation around this open space so the impression of an underwater cave is given. This strange inner structure does more than give the impression of the 4 states of the Moon, it provides alcoves in all it's walls and a mazelike appearance. In these statues of Pasiphae, symbols of this Mistress of Beasts, the water and other artwork can be admired. All illuminated by small burning globes. Except for the eastern wall, there an emptiness resembling Her Absense is filled with the holy altar from which ceremonies are lead. There, only the darkness of the night remains. There are +views here. Obvious exits: Sanctum Courtyard Naiadre steps through the illuminated opening into the darkened temple. Naiadre has arrived. A small indrawn breath is Kaiulani's first reaction to what she sees as she enters this place -- and for a few moments, her personal turmoils remain dismissed, as she steps forward to better reach the center of this chamber. There, she turns about in a slow circle, gaze taking in the lovingly created artwork. Impulsively, too, she sends forth her impression: * It is lovely!* Naiadre steps into the cool dimness of the temple directing a pair of curious novices back to their tasks with a quick thought. *Your reaction is no uncommon, but it pleases us all.* Naia says with a warm mental smile. *Welcome. Please, have a seat.* She gestures to the pile of prayer mats and cushions to one side of the main altar. Artin steps through the illuminated opening into the darkened temple. Artin has arrived. Sending her acknowledgement and another glimmer of gratitude, the pearl-haired maiden chooses one of the cushions upon which to settle herself, though half of her attention is still drifting about the room. Now that she's not trying to talk aloud at the same time the sense of strain has vanished from Kai's mind; apparently, she has absolutely no problem speaking mind to mind, if one does not call her not entirely adequate shielding a problem. *If I'd known it was beautiful in here,* she confesses, *I'd have come in before... I can at least lose my guards for a while. They'll leave me alone in here.* What can only be teenage fretfulness flavors this last thought, currents of barely repressed agitation swirling back and forth despite her overall good humor. Naiadre settles gracefully into a number of cushions, watching Kaiulani silently. *That seems a prominent problem of women associated with the Pandion Decemvir.* Naiadre remarks dryly. *But you are welcome here anytime.* She assures. A lander maiden might make a face at that droll observation; Kai is not a lander maiden, and so her physical reaction is limited to a brief pursing of her lips. Her mental reaction, on the other hand, easily relays her pique -- though it also conveys a brief bubble of amusement. *What, guards? I guess so.* Now that she's sitting down she can't exactly pace, and so Kai instead starts fiddling with her hair, twirling strands of it round her hands. *But I can at least order the guards to let me be if I don't leave the Korallion. I can't order my _family_ around, though! And they're worse than the guards!* Artin pauses just inside the entrance of the Temple, not to lok around the darkened room, but to take a moment to adjust into a proper mindset. The Crescent helps, as he walks past each statue in turn, he begins to relax, so that when he finally chooses a cushon, at least some of the cares of the outside world are not being shouldered. He glances toward the other occupants, dipping his head in silent greeting to all. Naiadre chuckles lightly aloud. *True.* She responds. *But at the very least, you have family at all.* Artin Artin is a typical youngish Atlantean, gills and webbed fingers are easily visible due to his pale white skin. Unlike many sea-people, he has chosen to shave his hair, his bald white dome making his deep green eyes even more startling. Other than the eyes, his most distinguising feature is a short series of circular scars that run from his jaw to the base of his neck. Lean and wiry rather than muscular, the way he leans slightly forward as he stands gives the impression he is ready to leap into motion at any moment. He wears the uniform of a Korallion Guard. A simple tunic of white edged in a dark sea blue and embroidered with dolphins, whales, sharks and other sea creatures comes down to his knees. Over it is lightweight articulated body armour made of some kind of material that shimmers silver like. The same type of armour is jointed at the knee and covers his shins laced up the back. On his feet he wears simple sandals whose straps cross over his feet to avoid the webbing between his toes. A short sword that looks like it is made of black coral is secured in a sheath at his back and a weighted net hangs at his waist. His only adornment is a pin at his shoulder made of a nautalis shell filled with 1 black pearl Speaking of guards, Kaiulani can't help but look up at Artin as his presence laps at her thoughts. For just a moment the maiden falters mentally, but then she rallies, sending a courteous if slightly awkward greeting by way of reply. Then she has to send reluctant agreement to the First Acolyte, for she can't disagree with the wisdom of her statement. *Yes... I just... I just wish they wouldn't treat me like I'm just learning to swim, and... and now someone might get hurt, and... I don't know what to _do_ about it!* Naiadre winces, recoiling from the emotions within Kaiulani. A brief glance is sent towards Artin before all attention returns to Kai. Her mental tone is apologetic. *I'm very sorry to hear that.* She says sincerely. *This is someone you care for that your family does not approve of then?* She hazards. Artin tries to give the pair their privacy, but occasionally he glances over toward the women. Kaiulani starts at the young priestess' words, both in a ripple of her ill-guarded thoughts and a visible little jerk of her slender shoulders. ** is her initial reply, but that's practically bowled over in the wake of what can only be amazement at the rest of that question. She bites at her lower lip then, dismay flooding her thoughts. *But the rest... I... I don't _know_! That's the _problem_! I don't know who he _is_...* Fretful, both at the force she can sense in her own thoughts and at her all too keen awareness that she needs to try to restrain herself, the maiden tugs her knees close to her and wraps her arms about them, as if such a physical gesture might aid her in pulling in her thoughts. She concludes mournfully, *Told you my problem was odd.* Naiadre blinks, trying to comprehend Kaiulani's words. *This is indeed...odd.* She says, for lack of a better word. *Your family threatens someone you worry for, yet do not know? If you do not know them, what does it matter to you?* Agitatedly Kai drops her face down against her knees, sending some of her mass of pale hair forward to curtain her limbs as she does so. Though her features are now out of sight this hardly muffles her mind as she sends forth, *It matters because he has always... been out there, you see, First Acolyte... guarding me, ever since I was small, but he's never let me _see_ him... And now he's _here_ and Cousin Sarojin doesn't trust him and has ordered my guards to capture him or maybe even kill him and how can I warn him if I don't know who he is?!* Most of this speech remains more or less composed despite the strain of her thoughts... but on those last few words her mental contact cracks, disintegrating into a woebegone crash of emotion with which she's apparently been struggling, perhaps for some time now. Naiadre exhales a forceful sigh, shaking her head. *Such a problem I have never heard the likes of, Kaiulani. But if he has guarded you for so long, how could he mean you harm? He sounds like some sort of guardian lares, like the Empyreans mention at times. If he is always watching you, perhaps you could get a message to him, or elude your guards and try to locate him. I would help you if I could, but I know not how.* *I don't know how to get a message to him,* is the girl's unhappy reply. *I don't know his name... or his station... or even what he looks li--* With that, though, Kaiulani cuts herself off, realizing that that's not _entirely_ true. She rubs a knuckle across her brow, as if trying to ward off headache, as she appends, *I mean... I-I'm not sure of what he looks like... I... he saved me from a shark. But I was hurt, and I think I saw his face, but I fainted...* Naiadre nods slowly. *It is quite a dilemma you have. But perhaps your...lack of shielding could help you. If you were able to get out and away from your guards, to a place he might be likely to find you, simply think on the danger to him, and project it. Maybe he will pick it up.* Naiadre blinks, casting a glance over her shoulder as a novice approaches. A groan escapes her throat and she turns back to Kai. *It seems one of the novices is causing trouble again. I'm terribly sorry, but I should go diffuse it. I hope we can speak again...May Pasiphae help you find the answers you need.* She bids, rising and walking away hurriedly. [End log.]