You Shall Not Be Hidden [Cian Noc]

[Sela]

Timestamp: 76th Winter 511 A.V. -- late afternoon

Cian Noc. The healer, the Opal Order man. The one who resides in the onetime outpost, on the outskirts of Denval.

The man who brought back long-buried feelings...

Sela wore her anonymity like a cloak, a soft and warm cloak that sheltered her from the brewing hell around her. She existed in a perpetual state of indifference, scorn be to all the Denvalis that crossed her path on that long wintry walk. She was focused on one man in particular, and he was not of Denval origin. All others held no interest for her.

His name was Cian Noc, Sela had learned. She'd spied him from a distance in the marketplace. That had been a week and some odd days ago, but she remembered her reaction to his presence vividly. Wild and strnage...she'd felt feelings she'd long thought gone. Something about him brought back the repressed memories of the twined lovers and the stone, that damned, cursed stone. There was something about him that was the reason for the pull that had led her here. Sela knew it. Wanted it...

Further facts about the man had been easily acquired from the man in the Stranger's Welcome who had given her his name. Degtine and her prettiest smile had seen to that. Cian was a healer, ran a clinic in the building that had been a garrison outpost in her day, reconstructed into a place of healing in the current era. He was her target, the clinic her destination.

The walk was a long journey, the Opal Clinic being perched high on the Denvali cliffs like some overgrown bird of prey. But then again, the outpost hadn't been called as such for it's accessibility. Sela made do, and with that mindset, she found she had reached the clinic long before she'd thought her weak legs could have carried her. She remembered the trail better than she'd thought

Cheery light spilled out in an indolent arc around the entrance, illuminating a welcoming office that waited within. But Sela was loath to approach, skirting around the entrance like a snake around fire. She would dart in to see how close she could get, retreating when the burning sensation began.

She forced herself forward in the end, pushing past the turmoil inside of herself into the door of the healing center itself. She stood there, wavering and shaking in the doorway. Equal parts anxiety and caution struggled for dominance across her face. "Is Cian Noc in here?" She called out uncertainly, squinting to make out the figures that lay in the room beyond. "I'd...like to speak with him, if I may." It was only now that Sela began to consider how Cian would react to her presence. Would he know her for what she was, strip away the carefully placed defenses that she had constructed? Or would he be as clueless as all the rest?

There was a part of her that hoped it would be the former...

[Legion]

"And keep your fire high!" A voice that ought not have been familiar carried from the front parlor. Metal bells chimed and a draft of wintry air freshened through the historic barracks, announcing the departure of a patient. "Back here!" The same voice called again. It was not Denvali. It held a more southerly accent, something to do with riverbed silt and long, green shadows in a noon swelter. Floorboards creaking beneath a loose hipped stride. A shadow spilled from the spike of the lowering sun through parlor windows before the healer appeared in the door way, a soft cloth in hand he was using to dry long, physician's fingers free what smelled to be carbolic. The smile that found Cian's mouth was quizzical as he regarded the woman and it did not appear until his striping, examination of a gaze found her own. It was an occupational hazard -- he was always looking for injuries. "Hey," he greeted with the easy friendliness that had helped to make him beloved of Denval. His eyes were warm, curious and awfully tired. The mark of the goddess Rak'keli glanced and glinted across an otherwise unremarkable countenance. After a beat, he rocked forward to cross the distance between them and shove out a welcoming hand. "You're looking for me," his smile sharpened like a lynx, teasing but completely lacking in the recognition Sela both hoped for and dreaded. "I'm Cian Noc."

[Sela]

Sela nearly jumped when the voice, a voice she knew but did not know, cried out. It made her take a hesitant step back. In protest, the dry floorboards of the entry creaked, almost in tandem with the aching floorboards of the parlor. So it was two pairs of feet moving at the same time, then. Sela's feet, and...who was the other?

Her breath caught when the man she had seen afar came into view. At distance, he had been like a god - not in the powerful sense of the word, but unattainable, untouchable. Close up now, Sela was forced to confront the fact that he was real - and standing right in front of her.

His gaze disturbed her. She had her fair share of examinations in her day, the smallest uncomfortable and the greatest leaving her in another person's body. While Cian's gaze definitely slid towards the former end of the spectrum, she still didn't like it.

"I'm not sick or injured, thanks." She said huffily, pulling her arms around her as if they could fend off his inquisitive gaze. For the moment, feelings and thoughts had been discarded for an unconscious reaction of the social pariah. It was a defense mechanism, nothing more. Nothing less. In another moment, it all came back to her and a smile twisted her features once more.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong." She spoke with a comfortless grace, exquisitely aware of the fact no credible reason had brought her hither. "I should, ah...hello."

At the lengthy sound of his voice and the thoughts that boiled underneath, Sela frowned and something almost like hope vanished from her eyes. He doesn't recognize me, One errant thought mourned.

But isn't that a good thing? Another crooned.

Sela's countenance held nothing of the mixed emotions inside her. That second of a frown was lost in the smile that always seemed to return to her features, no matter the interruption. She took a step forward and awkwardly grasped his hand. "I'm Sela. And you're right, I am looking for you." She bit her lip at this, the coolness of the flesh reminding her of her all-too-obvious secrets. In a moment, Sela had slipped her hand from his silently, returning it to the sanctity of her bodice. "I'm not entirely sure why, though..." was spilled from a desperate tongue.

She took a deep breath. Calm, now. "Can I- can I come in? Of course, if you have a patient right now, I can come back later." She chanced a look at him, eyes searching for a reaction.

[Legion]

Laughter welled from him, easy and clean despite the wan about his edges. Curiosity peaked with the cool grasp of her hand. “It’s good you aren’t sick or injured,” he confided. “Nobody ever comes to see me if they’re well. Loans a man to a rather narrow view of the world, doesn’t it? Come in, come in,” and he stepped back, beckoning her to follow. “I don’t have a patient right now,” he reassured while ducking beneath the archway and into the parlor. Candles glowed in the windows, illuminating the cozy hodgepodge dominating the décor. “Care for some degtine? Or are you hungry, maybe? Come near the fire. You’re cold.” A loose hip stride carried him to a walnut cabinet where he proceeded to rummage for the wanted glasses. A fire cackled soft against the hearthstones, beating back the insideous chill of the winter night. He turned his head, blinking at her for a long moment. There was something in her manner that pricked the edges of his consciousness. “You don’t know why then,” he prodded gently, drawl free of judgment. “Somewhat to do with the madness gadding about Denval, perhaps? Sela,” he smiled at her while lifting the located glasses with success. “You are welcome and well come. Have a seat.”

[Sela]

Like a lost puppy, Sela followed Cian into the Opal Clinic. Her steps were hesitant, yet eager, as if the one doing the walking was conflicted; and, in a way, she very much was.

"Thanks," Sela muttered as the healer rambled on, the heat of the parlor warming her long-dead bones. A tilt of her head cast a splay of hair to the side so she can properly look at Cian. He seemed to be rummaging in the cabinet. For the aforementioned degtine, perhaps? Little did he know of Sela's condition; it didn't prevent her from drinking, only meant that she didn't have to.

Right now, though, there was a dry thirst at the bottom of her throat. "Degtine, please. No food, I'm not hungry." She paused. Her small frame crouched awkwardly next to the fire, hands so close they were almost touching the hungry flames. Her ineptness was not the result of strange feelings and reactions; it came from something else. A new feeling for her. The feeling of being comforted, of being tended for. It was all so strange. So unexpected.

And yet...

"The madness...perhaps. I arrived right in the middle of all this, and I really don't know what's going on." She confessed. "I've heard bits and pieces of what happened, but, in truth, a lot of it remains unknown to me. Ah - thank you." Only slightly knocked off-track as she located an appropriate seat to take, further words spilled from her lips once it had been found. "I...feel as if I know you." Sela cringed, looked away. "From somewhere else. Does that make any sense? Do you..." Here the words faltered; here the nuit went silent.

"Do you...do you know the history of this building?" Sela looked up, her eyes meeting his fiercely. An impassioned light gleamed there. "Because I do. Vividly."

[Legion]

Caramel eyes darkened to soot with suspicion – no, that was not suspicion blacking his eyes, steeling his frame even while Sela sank to a perch upon the damask covered settee. It was fear. Fear was not an emotion often found in the countenance of Cian Noc. He was a man who walked with confidence in his abilities and stood toe to toe with Dira on considerable occasions. To find fright beneath the opalescent kiss of his goddess was to be frightened, for surely if this man thought there reason then there must. He blinked and it faded. The distance between them was ventured so that he might offer her the glass on a steady hand. “You mean in a life before these,” he prodded, mollasses drawing out his syllables. “There are some who had mentioned such things, Sela, in all this divine discord. Did you know me? Is that what you’re after and afraid to say lest I think you mad?” The corners of his mouth twitched toward smile, encouraging. “This was a barracks for Suvan troops once,” he hesitated, “Or so I’ve been made to understand. It was vacant when I first came to Denval. You.. Remember it, Sela?”

[Paragon]

From the shadows beneath the overlook, eyes watched the Nuit enter the Opal Clinic. They watched carefully, measuring every movement, every step. And then when she had gone inside the building, the figure slunk away, mentally adding her to the list.

[Sela]

She accepted the cup with an impassive fortitude, unyielding before any glances or emotions the man might have levied on her.

"Thanks." she said, voice as enigmatic as the reasoning behind her taut expression.

Her pretty little mouth formed a frown, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Another life...no." She grimaced here, but her voice was as strong as it was quiet. She struggled valiantly onwards; "This life, yes."

"Have you ever heard of those who manage to live on past death? Perhaps you better now them as undead. Particularly, a variety known as daek-nuit." Her eyes swarmed over Cian's figure and the dents and impressions that his life had left there. "Something tells me that you do."

She sighed here, a deep sigh, as though she had given up everything precious and was now helpless to see what happened to it. "Of course I know of the barracks." she muttered in an even quieter voice. "Lived seven years of my life here."

"I think I'd know it pretty well after that..." Here she frowned. Standing, she arose from the settee from which she had sought refuge. Light footsteps took her across the room to the far wall, where she for a time stared simply at the faded wallpaper. In time her hand rose and fingered a crack in the wall, tracing its path with a confidence borne of familiarity.

"Yes, I still know it well..."

[Legion]

"You're a daek-nuit," the healer breathed, eyes widening with fascination. The cup in his hand found purchase on the corner of a table, china rattling a bit when released. Cagey, devouring steps had him trailing after his guest, maintaining a distance he considered to be polite even while watching her own wanderings with an eye toward detail. "Hold on," he said abruptly, the remains of her words absorbed into his consciousness. A boot heel curved against the floor as he tilted, thumping a shoulder against the paper lined wall not a foot from where her cold hand traced up a crack made ages before he was born. "You said.. You lived here. He searched her face, hands jamming into the pockets of his trousers in an effort to contain the scientist aspect of him which pressed and pushed for him to touch, to examine, to see. "You mean originally. Before you were immortal? When it was a garrison??" Excitement had sparked in him, striking like a candle behind his skin, lighting him up with curiosity and vibrancy that was unchanged since the days he had walked here with the name of Solduvan.

[Sela]

A sad frown flickered across her face as Sela turned back to face Cian. "Yes." she mumbled lightly. "I was a soldier here once. My name...it was Tallend. Tallend Obyre."

She gasped as icy cold memories lunged for her, grasping her in their doeful embrace. As one she saw herself, a man now, striding down the halls of this garrison that was now a hospital.

She was human again...

Vitality glowed within, strength flowed in pumping veins. But in her unknowing conceit a loose board was overlooked. A trip and a stutter sent her - him - falling, the end result being a hard landing against the garrison wall. And then she was standing up again, examing the crack she had just made in the wall, thinking that the commander was going to kill her...the commander...

...And suddenly Sela was looking again at Cian, a lighted epiphany in her eyes. "Yes..." she breathed, "...Yes, I was a soldier here. And you...I know you now."

In undeath emotions were muted, softened by the dead skin that enchained the living soul. But for the first time in over half a millenia she felt alive again, set abuzz by a thousand powerful emotions. And she saw Cian with new eyes.

"You say others are remembering their past lives, Cian. Are you among them? Do you remember who..." -and here she nearly tripped up- "...who you were?"