Lyral and company made their way upstairs, seeking out Keylorian. They asked around until they entered the room of rangerlings.
Tyan asked, "Keylorian? Were they going to turn my husband into a bird?"
Aidana smiled and nodded to Iviaen, "Thank you." she said, and began to do just that.
Keylorian was curled up, under blankets, and happily, fuzzily under the effects of Dr. Goldweaver's thistle. He sat up groggily at the sound of his name, and stood unsteadily.
"They were going to all three of us." he replied, still looking dazed. He handed Tyan the folded scrap of cloth, All that remained from when he had tried to pull Zan after him through the portal.
Tyan glanced over to Keylorian, "We just wanted to make sure you aren't under spell compulsions because they did that sort of thing to Ria in the past and... I felt like Zan died not long ago, but he didn't die, I can feel him, he's just... different. I'm trying to figure out what they did to him."
The monk draped his blankets over the cushions he had claimed, and nodded. "Okay. Go ahead. It's not like another person frying my brains is going to hurt at this point."
Keylorian had divested himself of his robe, and the yellowing bruises bloomed across his torso, chest, neck, and arms. His trousers hung loosely on his hips.
Nelanth looked at Keylorian's bruises and frowned, "I'm so sorry."
Lyral moved over to Keylorian and rested his hands on the man's temples, and quickly checked his mind for compulsion spells.
They had tried. Oh, had they tried. His mind was a battered mess, but their compulsion spells did not take. The former mindhealer-priest-turned-monk had resisted until his near death, and what was there for Lyral to see, was easily removed. However, there was something else, a dormant structure similar to the one which Lyral had seen in Iviaen right before he became an owl.
Keylorian attempted to stay calm but began to shake midway through the examination. At a certain point, he passed out, slumping forward into Lyral.
Lyral was focused on testing the other's mind, and wasn't disturbed by the other passing out. Are there any spell compulsions on him, "Poor thing."
There were, but they were being actively resisted. Also a crane appeared and tried to peck at Lyral, in Keylorian's mindscape.
Lyral carefully went about shredding the spells on Keylorian, which the man was fighting on his own already. He was pecked by the crane and visibly winced, "Come now, pretty guard bird. I'm not here to harm, I'm here to help." He addressed the crane.
The crane tilted its head and then watched what Lyral was doing.
Lyral was unhooking the webs of compulsion spells from Keylorian's mind, "The one you're protecting, bad people have done things to his mind, I'm taking it away, it will give you more room to roam."
The bird backed away as if it understood, and began attempting to help, pecking at the spells.
Lyral smiled, "I'd expect nothing less of a guardian of Chi'ji. Thank you." It probably didn't take long for Lyral to clear out the mess in Keylorian's head. He said goodbye to the crane and left Keylorian's mind, then carefully lifted the old man onto the bed, the rangerlings who were on it all hopped off to make room for the elder, worried.
For a moment, Keylorian's form seemed to shimmer, but whatever changes were trying to happen ran out of energy and reversed. The yellowing bruises were even more apparent on his back, along with a freshly healed scar along his ribs on his right side. The monk remained unconscious.
Lyran investigated the scars, he used the light to deliver a little healing to those spots and bruises, then frowned, "He needs food, water, and rest."
Liliriel noticed the minor commotion of rangerlings as she exited the room, and the huntress tapped one on the shoulder. "What's going on in there?"
Wynthar looked to Liliriel, "Oh. Mister Keylorian had spells on him. And he's hurt. And we tucked him into bed."
Nelanth, Stryxis, and Tynxus sat on the bed and watched Keylorian.
She looked over at Keylorian, and nodded. "One of you go get me some bread, fish, or something. He needs to eat."
Wynthar scampered downstairs, got a plate of grilled salmon from Tal Brightmane, then went into the kitchen and piled the rest of the plate with the spiced barbecue chicken rice, and a couple of rolls, which he carefully buttered before heading back upstairs. Big plate of lots of food.
Liliriel waded into the room and sat on the bed, moving Keylorian into a sitting position, and running a finger along his ribs with a worried frown. "Wake up, old man." she said, "Food's coming."
Tyan moved in and shooed the rangerlings off the bed, "Give the man room."
Liliriel reached into her pocket for smelling salts and waved them under Key's nose. He shivered, twitched, and slowly opened his eyes.
Tyan looked Keylorian over, "Eat, my friend." He then looked down at the scrap of cloth Keylorian handed him.
The monk noticed the food and seemed to wake up a bit more. He took a roll and began to nibble tentatively, then grabbed the offered utensils and ate quickly, practically inhaling the fish. As Liliriel handed him a mug of water, she looked at the platter. He'd inhaled all of it.
Wynthar looked at Keylorian, "He's really hungry. Does he want more? There's ribs, and chicken rice, and fish, and lots of bread and muffins and salad."
Tyan grunted, "He's going to turn into a bird, I think. Iviaen did so already."
Liliriel looked up at Tyan. "Bring him more, heavy on the fish," she replies, the monk stared off into space, occasionally sipping water. His attention was elsewhere.
Wynthar went back downstairs. He collected three more salmon steaks and two more rolls then ran back upstairs, "Okay here you are."
Tyan ruffled Wynthar's hair and then went back to staring at the piece of cloth with a frown on his face.
After he had eaten the second plate of food, his stomach growled. Keylorian looked down at it in irritation, then his gaze fell on Tyan and the scrap of cloth. The monk's ears flattened, and his gaze dropped to the floor.
Wynthar blinked, "I'll go get another plate," and reached for Keylorian's current plate.
Lyral rubbed his chin, "They must have starved him in captivity."
"I'm right here." replied Keylorian irritably.
Lyral looked at Keylorian, "Yes. I know."
Wynthar's ears fanned back, "You're still hungry, right Mister Keylorian?"
"Yes," he replies. "The salmon is delicious."
"More bread? Salad?" The boy asked.
"Yes," he replied. He looked up at Tyan. "A red and gold patterned peacock."
Wynthar headed off. Downstairs at the grill he explained that Keylorian was really really hungry and really liked the salmon. Tal Brightmane piled five more salmon steaks onto the plate, then went into the kitchen and pulled a drawer from the icebox full of frozen salmon steaks, loaded them on the grill, and started heating them up. He wasn't expecting that many people to want fish.
Wynthar grabbed a bowl and put a salad in it, and a tiny cup of light dressing in the bowl, then piled a few more rolls on top of the fish. He put the fish plat on top of the salad bowl and carried the whole thing upstairs, forks and spoons and stuff in hand. He offered it all to Kelorian.
"A peacock?" Tyan rubbed his chin, "It is possible they succeeded into making him into one then. Light help me, he'll be making cock-jokes non-stop for weeks."
Keylorian manages a chuckle, "He was already telling the bird what a pretty cock it was."
Liliriel rolls her eyes.
Tidanel looked at the other elves, "I bet it was a nice cock."
Keylorian took the plate and started on the salad first, much more slowly this time. He finished off that platter at a more normal pace and shook his head when Wynthar asked him if he wanted more. "I don't want to make myself ill," he replied.
Wynthar smiled, "I hope you feel better, Mister Keylorian."
Hanathia added, "Yeah."
Keylorian nodded and moved back to his corner nest, curling up there in the blankets. "Thanks. It will take time," he replies.
Lyral and Tyan exchanged glances then left.
Downstairs Iviaen'd served himself up a more balanced meal. A large plate with a variety of food and was carefully and gracefully eating it, he was trying to teach his owl how to eat like an elf.
Serita smiled. "Don't make yourself sick. Andorithas nearly did."
Iviaen was nearly finished with his meal, "Well you said I needed a lot of energy, I usually eat a lot because magic... and I like food." He got up and grabbed himself a slice of chocolate cake from the icebox. The box the cake was in had a warning label on it, to not eat because... drugs. Iviaen took, basically, lots and lots of thistle, "Now that I've got all this in me, I feel like I need to go sleep."
Serita looks at the warning label. "Sir, you just ate a huge piece of thistle cake. Let me help you to a bed before it hits."
Iviaen smiled and accepted her help, "Yes, I know. If I change back into an owl I'll be so high I won't be able to fly straight." He laughed.
She laughs. "Good thinking." she replies, leading him to a free sleeping spot, a hammock. She helped him into the hammock and piled blankets on top of him, passing him a pillow.
