Desreal: Tyger tyger, burning bright; HUYANA

“This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown.:
The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout 'Save Us!'...:

...and I'll look down, and whisper, 'No'"

Others of fire would have hated her water or feared it. Nicodemus was either very wise or a fool for not being one of those horses. He knew that ultimately all of the elements were connected, and Solira’s burning had been proof to that. He shakes his head grimly at the thought, wondering if Huyana would want his Healing. But he would not ask. It was dangerous to ask if one’s pride was involved. Nicodemus would only watch, yearning to heal her burns. He wonders how those of fire had fared during the attack. Nicodemus thinks lightly that he would have enjoyed the flames himself, and yet it was a dark thought.

Andraste’s sudden curiosity caught in the man’s mind. He prods it, gently, their minds interlinked. A chuckle. Andraste should have been his familiar. His eyes flash caringly to the lounging Keir, the laziest of all the familiars he has ever known. The wolverine was awake for now, body splayed out along Nicodemus’ back, head lifted and eyes alert to watch Huyana with mild interest.

Huyana began speaking and Nicodemus’ eyes returned to her calmly. One thing he had mastered was the skill of patience, and yet, who wouldn’t with age? But her question falls on a rather sour chord, and Nicodemus hardens, his muscles taught, his eyes stone. It was not an anger reaction, but simply how he reacted to bad memories. It was a while before he spoke, and her second question had only lengthened the silence so that it might be a bit uncomfortable standing there with him. She might have wondered if he was even going to answer her. But in time, it came. “Andarin has always and will always be where my loyalties lie.” He smiles. “It is my home, and my family.” But that was not all. “ I only went to Solira out of fear. Fear for hurting them.” He turns his head, to the scar on his jugular that could only be from the Shards.

There was where her answer would come, however poorly given.

“The Shards…” He exhales as though exhausted. As though the very mention of them had drained him totally. “Well, I can’t tell you much (they are still strange to me as well), but your question is too vast. What of the Shards would you like to know?” He breaths steadily, but it is so clear that he wished not to speak of them. And yet he knows that she needs to know. He knows that it is something that if she doesn’t know, she will get involved in the worst possible way. The Shards were too powerful.

It was there that he waited, patience emanating from his every limb, the calming effect that he always seemed to have washing over her like her own waves.

SEER

**NICODEMUS**

Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us.