Seodai opened his mouth to respond. He might have said that Cian seemed like so much more than the good looking healer who patched people up in Denval. He might have spoken of his crazy dreams, or any of the host of other things that made Cian sometimes seem too complicated to be simply a man. But, for all that those things were true and existed in the realm of his thought, Seodai liked Cian. Very much. And, this man was a stranger. With a certain sense of protectiveness, Seodai clamped his lips closed again and obeyed when he was told to lay back. The pain of the medical attention was a nice distraction, quickly clearing his head. He pressed his teeth together and inhaled deeply through his nose. He was far too good at this, having done it way too often. "Poor choice of words," he muttered at last. "I think Cian is good." By then, though, Caelum had spoken again. Given Seodai more to consider. "Whatever compelled you has a terrible sense of humor," Seodai said, lolling his head to the side so that he could not see the crimson of his own blood. It made him feel weak and nauseous. "Unless you're the sunsinger, of course." More riddles, prophecies that didn't make sense, and dramatics from the gods. Seodai wasn't resentful; how could he be, with Syna's voice still in his ear, telling him to stay? Syna, whom he had worshiped obliquely for most of his life. He was thankful that they had come, to be sure. But why could gods not speak with words that made sense to the common man? It was frustrating, as the days dragged on and nothing seemed to change except to worsen. |