The bard could hear the racing of Khyan's heartbeat as it thrummed through his symphony. It was a disjointed, dissonnant jangle of nerves jittering through his aether. Even without that, he could see tics and twitching, a face full of dread. It reminded him of the last time Finn had been grievously injured and his friend Torin had gone into a seasons-long depression. That, he now knew, had been the work of Arvælyn's Mesmer used to punish the one he thought responsible for the loss of his former lover, if not for the injury done to his current one. This, however, seemed more subtle, more studied, and he could only imagine it would require a great deal more time and effort in order to help the servus learn to regulate his own emotions without using magic as a crutch.
Finn frowned. He put a well-muscled arm around slender shoulders and held him close. While he didn't want to regulate his friend's emotions for him, he knew the look in his eyes. He had seen it in the eyes of men coming into the tavern for a drink that they needed more than they wanted. This was all too much to deal with on top of recuperating from such a dire wound.
First, he was humming. Then, gently rocking the man. Finn recalled his childhood, helping tend to his younger siblings. Tendrils of his aether crept into Khyan's aura, gently nudging him toward calm as he began to sing a country lullaby. He wouldn't urge him to sleep even if the lyrics did, though he supposed Khyan might fall asleep from the relief. If he didn't have both hands to hold an instrument, he still had his voice, and that too was exploring new things here in Solunarium. One might imagine that he was even harmonizing with himself if that was possible.
Finn frowned. He put a well-muscled arm around slender shoulders and held him close. While he didn't want to regulate his friend's emotions for him, he knew the look in his eyes. He had seen it in the eyes of men coming into the tavern for a drink that they needed more than they wanted. This was all too much to deal with on top of recuperating from such a dire wound.
First, he was humming. Then, gently rocking the man. Finn recalled his childhood, helping tend to his younger siblings. Tendrils of his aether crept into Khyan's aura, gently nudging him toward calm as he began to sing a country lullaby. He wouldn't urge him to sleep even if the lyrics did, though he supposed Khyan might fall asleep from the relief. If he didn't have both hands to hold an instrument, he still had his voice, and that too was exploring new things here in Solunarium. One might imagine that he was even harmonizing with himself if that was possible.
► Show Spoiler