He was so focused on what he'd come to do that it took him a moment to notice the slight stir in those few still scattered about, the steady stride of the priest--how long had he been standing there? His amulet glinted as he bent down, three rounded leaves shining in the torchlight as he knelt across from Cyr. Did the sapling mean new life in this world, or the other?

A small, dark part of Cyr whispered it was just practical for them to send someone, if only to clean the stones, but--that didn't seem to be this priest's mission. It wouldn't be proper to stare, to take over-notice of his appearance, but he wasn't hard to look at by any means. He had a gentle bearing, and a kind voice.

His words were almost tender, and Cyr paused to weigh them. But if he laid his burdens down here, he did not think he could pick them up again. As it was, he had to pry the stopper loose.

For one aching moment, Cyr saw how brilliant the priest's eyes were, like the sea in summer.

It was good to have a witness. He hadn't come for his own sake, but it helped to think he might find favor with the bright queen of that far shadowed shore, Radia of the Sunless Sea.

His sister Quorra surely must have, innocent as she had been.

"Thank you," Cyr managed, settling on, "Brother," as the best form of address, when he knew he was ignorant of temple rank and particulars. All were family, before the One. "It helps that--that someone--"

He only needed bravery a moment more. "Your presence grants me strength."

Cyr nodded to the priest in salute and drank it all at once.

Immediately he flinched at the taste. It was powerfully bitter, hot and sharp like devil pepper, but he got it down quickly, if with a long, hard shudder.

...He...felt...

Suspiciously alive.

Perhaps it was like hemlock draught, and took some minutes to work.

"Will you," he did not want to be alone, and at least the last thing he'd think of would be those amazing eyes. "Would you--pray with me?"