Blooming Villain

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The weapon wasn't much use here.

Cedric peered down at the lightsaber with distaste. The temporary weapon had failed upon entering the ruined city of Jar'kai. The nexus of vile energy here had served to render it utterly useless, much to the knight's dismay.

Fortunately he had thought ahead. The second weapon he carried now was a Sith blade, and its crimson visage was unmarred by Atrisia's malignancy. Using such a weapon was not something Cedric had ever wanted to do, but it was required here.

Master Wilfen's lightsaber was not blessed by the Light. It faltered here. A Sith weapon kept Cedric hidden, but it also kept him safe. Furthermore, it allowed access to the realm of the force he would have to master if he ever hoped to return to Ession.

A dust cloud clung to the ruined city. the smell of ash and charred earth hung in the air like a thick smoke. The force itself recoiled against the unnatural processes forced upon it by the dark rituals committed here.

His father had done this. Cedric's heart drop.

"It's worse than I expected," he muttered to his single companion. "But...I suppose that means it'll do. Are you ready to begin our training?"

 

[Sundara Nyveit]

"What did you expect, then?"

Sundara looked up at her fellow with raised brow and creased forehead. The sideways glance was part inquiry, part waiting for him to continue on. She knew not of the specifics behind this place and its history, only felt the wound of sorts that had been left behind by the devastation. It wasn't her place to step in, say something sagely about not dwelling on the past, and ignore whatever atrocities that had occurred here.

So she waited, let him have his moment. She was in no hurry. Well, no, there was a bit of a time limit, but that wasn't the point. Better to let him have his moment than try and rush it and prolong it further.

"Ready whenever you are. I assume you have an idea of what exactly we're doing?"

She was more than ready, anxious even. Sparring was always a bit of a thrill, something to pass the terrible monotony of everything else that coincided with the Jedi. Learning something new, well, that was part of the thrill, wasn't it?

[member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

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He did not know Sundara; not in any decent capacity anyway. The girl had been one of the few knights that remained within the Denaba enclave, and she had something of a fire in her. More importantly, she was the only person at the enclave that could truly provide him with a means with which to improve. Atrisia provided the malignant atmosphere and the taint of the Bogan; Sundara would be the whetstone upon which he would sharpen himself, and he hers.

"Not really. My father was skilled with the forbidden lightsaber form before his fall. I feel like it's something I need to learn as well if I'm going to get over all this," he gestured about with a hand. He wasn't sure how much Sundara knew of him, if there was anything at all. He supposed it didn't matter.

"I intend stay here for a few days. The Dark Side permeates here; it's the only place I know of that we could safely learn to conquer it," the youth paused as he gazed out at the wasteland. "Do you know what happened here?"

A brow was raised.

[member="Sundara Nyveit"]

 

[Sundara Nyveit]

"And you're certain you can learn this without falling to corruption?" Why else would it be forbidden? She didn't press on with the point. There was no purpose to it, especially if he'd already made up his mind. "What sort of opposition do you expect to face in..whatever you're dealing with?" Outside of his name, she hadn't any clue who this guy was.

Lightsaber combat wasn't exactly her specialty. Lightsabers themselves were okay, she supposed. She preferred the weight of the saberstaff, the elongated hilt gave more room to maneuver, less room for it to get lost in a momentary lapse of memory. She could wield a lightsaber well enough for practice, of course, but a real fight probably wouldn't end as well.

"I've heard bits and pieces." She said with a shrug. "Not much, really. I didn't exactly research the system before showing up."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

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"I know I can. I've been training for this my entire life, and I trust you'll be able to help me if I get too close to the brink. I'll do the same for you," he paused as they began to walk through the ruins. The city was as ruined as it had been the day his father had left this forsaken world. No life stirred here, save for the occasional rodent or insect. The Dark Side permeated here; its corrupting influence could be felt in every stone, and every abandoned street. Cedric frowned.

"My father lost his way here. He and his fellow went to war with the Galactic Alliance, and a few million lives were lost in the process. Atrisia was broken, and so were our people," he gestured all about. "This is the result of their efforts. This is my family's legacy. It's one I have to face now, or I never will."

That much was truth. It had been hard enough coming out here this time. He couldn't imagine himself ever making the journey again.

"I don't expect any of the traditional trouble. This place is abandoned. No, the real enemy here is ourselves, and the malignancy that clings to this place: both of which I am hoping to conquer."

The duo found themselves outside a shattered hotel. Cedric turned to regard his companion. "Now is the time to turn back if you think it's too much. I can go alone, I just wanted someone nearby in case things went wrong."

[member="Sundara Nyveit"]

 

[Sundara Nyveit]

"Do you know it, or do you refuse to accept otherwise?" She wasn't exactly in a position to stop him, either way. There was almost a twinge of pride that she'd been deemed capable of dictating when was too close. With that twinge, a slight annoyance at the responsibility. She kicked at the rubble as they walked on, observing the sights with a solemn gaze. Whatever had happened here, whatever atrocities took place, Sundara was glad she hadn't played witness to them.

"Forgive me if I go too far, but do you have to face this legacy? Do you really? The past is the past. If this doesn't go well, it may be best to just let it die." What was the point in maintaining a legacy if one lost himself in the process? It'd hardly be a legacy at that point. Just some bad joke that'd end with Cedric.

"So what I'm gathering here is we're fighting our own darkness, if you will, in a place where it'd only be amplified? Truly, there's no way this could go wrong."

Faced with the opportunity to leave, Sundara regarding the man really only slightly taller than herself with a cool gaze and a tilt of the head. "You haven't said anything to scare me off as of yet. Besides, you said the real enemy will be ourselves, right? As crazy as this sounds, I can't very well leave you to face it alone, can I ?"

[member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

[Mythos]

ATRISIA

Oh how Mythos both dreaded and yearned to come here every single day after his resurrection, how he wanted more than anything to claim his world from the hands of the murderers who took it from him. His people cried out every day for salvation, they yearned for the touch of their father and his return. he was unable to give it to them yet, he needed more time and more power in order to return triumphantly to Atrisia and free his people from the shackles of the galactic alliance once and for all. His destination was not the capital city it had now but the one before, to pick up the pieces of his death and return with a clear mindset. As he walked through the miasma of dark energy he remembered the palace as it used to be... a place of beauty and glory.

Grass and tea leaves everywhere, the children of the people running along, pregnant women and their lovers in the royal river beside the palace free to come and go as they pleased. Proud warriors of the Jar'Kai in full garb shining in their armor and the glimmer of pride and joy in their eyes. The glorious flag of the One Sith flying full mast in every tower as the fauna and trees shined with life and growth. He was a good King... He knew to his people he was a good king. The palace now was destroyed, rubble and stone was everywhere and the bones and corpses of soldiers both alliance and atrisian lay there never picked up because the Alliance was not keen on entering a realm such as this. At the steps of the palace... Mythos stopped.

The way was blocked by massive stones and what appeared to be a path was to the left. It was the old path of the merchants, farmers brought fresh produce to the palace through the back gates to the Jar'Kai royal guard who would inspect it and pay them... Mythos always ordered them to be over payed and over compensated as to have them return to their villages with tales of plenty and kindness. Now that pathway was littered with bones and rubble as he made his way through it...

He remembered the palace... as it used to be. His heart was heavy to say the least as he walked, stopping several times to remember and mourn his soldiers, mourn his people, mourn his valiant guards in the last charge they made for glory and freedom from the alliance and their invasion. Suddenly... he heard something. When one was in a place like this where nothing stirred in the darkness even the shuffle of boots and words cracked the silence like a shattering glass. With reflexes of an assassin mythis crouched and hugged a wall, pulling the blade of the sith assassins from his boot and his Rudis to his hands. He focused, here in the nexus of power of the darkside he was not only a warrior but a beast in his natural habitat. The ebb and flow of dark side energies surged through his body and his mind to show him the entire compound through the force... He remembered the palace as it used to be.

With nimble feet and silent movements Mythos force jumped to the rubble and began making his way to the noise. Grave Robbers? Looters? Galactic Alliance troopers or sentinels? Either way this palace would be their tomb as it was for all the people that he loved. In the darkness as thick as this any light would shine like a star. So it was that [member="Sundara Nyveit"] and [member="Cedric Grayson"] came alight into the eyes of Mythos, as from a boulder covered by darkness he stood tall. "Jedi..." He whispered to himself, so low that not even he could hear it but as he looked to them closely they came off as youth. Still... his hate was not quenched by mercy.

He wanted blood. With the power of Telekinesis and force flight Mythos began to slowly descend upon them, at first he was so far that the darkness would cover him but slowly he would come into view for them to quake in horror at before the blades of the king of this palace would end their lives. He wore a black cloak reminiscent of the ancient sith lords but with the emblem and insignia of a Black Eye in his left shoulder.​

 

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"We're doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past if we don't face them. Too many of our order refuse to acknowledge that fact," despite the malignant nature of their chosen locale, Cedric found himself smiling. It had never been difficult for the Jedi Knight to resist the temptations of the eternal shadow. His father had instilled in him a certain disdain for its seductive promises, and its encroaching nature had only served to further the disgust for which he regarded it. Coming here was supposed to open him up to its temptations, so that he might face them and deny them as all Jedi had.

Things felt off here, but nothing truly spoke to him. He still shone like a beacon of light amidst a sea of darkness. "As for the first question," he hefted himself up a tall ledge, "It's a bit of both. I could choose to let it go, but I know that it would bother me for the rest of my days if I did. Besides, who wants to say no to adventure?"

A brow was raised, a smile flashed. Cedric's laughter was quiet yet genuine as they strode closer to the palace. "Thank you for coming with me Sundara."

Closer and closer until something else came toward them...

Cedric froze, the crimson blade he carried in his hands instantly.

"That's a force user," he frowned, "I don't know who he is. He may not be friendly."

The figure drew closer. He was draped in a cloak of midnight. Cedric stepped forward.

"Good afternoon."

[member="Mythos"], [member="Sundara Nyveit"]

 

[Sundara Nyveit]

"But if you're so keen on not repeating the mistake, would it perhaps be better to let it fade into obscurity? So signs of its replication stick out?" Did that make sense? Probably not to anyone other than the Devaronian. Oh well, if her companion was sure he wouldn't fall, good on him. Sundara could only hope his belief would hold true.

The first attempt at pulling herself up the ledge ended in failure. The second, not so much. "I can't say I blame you, for the adventure or wanting to see it all through. One can hope it works out in your favor."

The ghost of a grin beckoned at the corners of her lips. "Think nothing of it. I needed the excuse to get away from everything."

And just like that, the friendly conversation was over. The walk coming to a halt, head snapping to the direction the overall bad feeling was coming from, her hand drifted to the saberstaff at her hip, the sudden change in atmosphere had her immediately on edge, ready to spring into action with a moment's notice. "He certainly doesn't look like a friendly," she noted as the entity drew closer.

And friendly looking he most certainly was not, with garb that looked incredibly Sith-like. She wanted to say something, to demand he identify himself and his intention, but thought against it. Better to let Cedric do the talking, at least initially. It seemed he had a mastery over words that far better suit the situation.

[member="Mythos"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

[Mythos]

To use force flight to it's masterful degree was an ability Mythos both cherished and sacrificed a lot to execute. He could glide from a stone gracefully as he was doing now or blast into the sky at amazing speeds, to master it he had taken in an insurmountable amount of pain and suffering. When he glided down his boots slightly apart from each other, he took care to come down as gracefully and as slowly as possible as to use the least amount of energy and be able to judge both the jedi who were below him. By their stances and their weapons he realized that neither was a master or a grandmaster of the jedi order however, they were two and he was one. He would have to be careful. He analyzed their stances, the placement of their feet, the alignment of their shoulders and the timing of their breath to judge what form out of the seven forms they employed. He smiled and tilted his head as the young male jedi regarded him with words... words. Why would he use words? Did the Galactic Alliance use words when they descended upon Atrisia and slaughtered his people? When they allied with Zambranos and Mandalorian dark jedi to massacre men, women and children?... But could he call himself their better if he acted exactly like them? No. He could not.

"You stand in the stones of My home. On the bones and corpses of my soldiers. On the grave of my brothers who defended this world from the shadow of the Alliance." He said as the steel toed boots clanked in the floor, their echo a ghostly reminder of the emptiness and hollow of these sacred grounds. The Rudis of the dark lord on his right hand was not hidden, he held it up shoulder level as the tip of it's alchemized blade pointed menacingly at the pair, a foreshadowing of what was to come. "I was king of this place, I defended it when all hope was lost alongside men better than you and i'll be sent back to chaos if in this new life I do not defend it from the likes of the Jedi who murdered them."

Fueled by the miasma and the endless, seemingly all powerful nexus surrounding them Mythos used his mastery of telekinesis to bring fourth boulders and stone from around them, massive chunks of demolished pillars and walls to float above them surrounding the trio. The eternal silence of the temple was broken, sent into what seemed to be a an earth shattering earthquake. In Mythos' mind these were Galactic Alliance soldiers, Jedi of the Galactic Alliance and as such enemies and demons who needed to be purged, their bodies displayed on his temple and Atrisia as a message that Atrisia was not broken, that this world was not yet bent and bowed to the gold and blue of the Alliance. No... This palace would not yet bow to that flag while he still drew breath. "Die with Honor... It's better than you deserve"
[member="Sundara Nyveit"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

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"Maybe so, but I think we need to understand what happened before we can move forward. You can't grow if you erase all of your experiences, even the negative ones." Cedric fired back, though his tone was pleasant. He could certainly understand the appeal of leaving the dead to rot, but it just was not in his nature. He needed to confront the font of his father's sins; to see the site of his family's damnation with his own eyes before he could ever hope to raise a weapon against the Sith.

His lips parted to explain this to Sundara, but then came the figure.

Then came the threats.

Stone rose above them like an executioner's axe. A simple shift of the Sith Lord's thoughts would send it careening into the two Jedi, likely ending their lives instantly. Calling upon the force here for assistance was particularly difficult - it called back to him, but its message was spoken with a whisper.

"One of the Sith Lords that chose to remain?" Cedric asked as his hand fell toward his lightsaber. "I'm not here to desecrate your graves. I've come to see this place for myself, to understand what happened here. I won't leave until I've finished what I came here to do. You need to step aside."

Blue eyes drilled into Mythos. His words were accentuated by the force's power, their volume amplified, the tone deathly serious. "Stow your weapon and let us pass guardian."

[member="Mythos"], [member="Sundara Nyveit"]

 

[Sundara Nyveit]

"You can't, no, but you also shouldn't get consumed by them." Or get obsessed with one's objective. Both were far from productive, but hey, whatever got the job done, right?"

Freeing the lightsaber from her belt, she kept it deactivated for now. Its weight was a comfort as well as indication that she wouldn't simply accept death with no fight. A fight would be unideal, of course, but just so would be simply dropping dead like some animal.

"You'll have to forgive me, but being crushed by rocks is hardly an honorable death," she spoke up, voice rising to cover the area, no plain sign of fear evident in her speech though it fell short in comparison to her companion's boosted volume.

Carrying on with Cedric's explanation, she stared up at the Sith Lord. A blonde Sith...that hardly fit the typical description of the beings they'd been warned about since childhood. Her eyes shifted to the massive boulders just waiting to land a mark. That wouldn't be an easy thing to dodge. Impossible, perhaps. "Disrespect was never our intention. Surely we can come up with a better arrangement that doesn't involve anyone being crushed. Preferably one with no injuries in general."

[member="Mythos"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

[Mythos]

"That chose to stand and fight Jedi" Mythos snapped back, the sting of the pain still in his mind and forever would be... the sting that passed to his words. They wanted peace, an end to conflict but Mythos saw the young man reach for his lightsaber. It would not save him. They would all be buried here under stone but only Mythos had the power thanks to the miasma of the nexus to hold his own boulder overhead and the distance between them would never allow survival. His eyes however narrowed when the young man said he was here only to learn... could Mythos deny him the knowledge? How could he be guilty like the alliance if he did not know what happened? Something else bothered him, something about this man shook his mind and spirit in a strange way.

"You want to know what happened here?" he asked, letting the thought of killing them both linger in his mind before letting his rage subside entirely. He pulled his rudis down and let the boulders fall. What ensued was an avalanche of debris and stone flying everywhere, the ground shaking like a force of nature cracked it and splintered as they fell, boulders the size of half the palace a testament to his power blasted the ground kicking up a storm of dust... they however would remain untouched by the display of power.

There was silence then. There was silence when Mythos walked forward through the dust and came face to face with the young man and female who stood before him like a ghost materializing in front of them. "Follow me if you want to hear The Tale of Lord of Mythos, The Tale of the sacrifice of Cyril Grayson and The Tale of a people who once prospered and how their lives were snuffed out by the Galactic Alliance." His words were accompanied by his hand blasting out, unleashing a gust of wind with his very limited knowledge of alter environment to clear the air.

His eyes Met them both, a great sorrow in them hiding an immeasurable pain. He held his hate at bay in the hopes that they would know and understand. If before Jedi could made to see that the Alliance was in fact evil... then again perhaps they could. He began to walk off between them, his rudis sheathed in his side. "My name is Animus Malgus... once known as King of Atrisia... Once a father and once a husband." He began, darkness covering him as he stepped into the broken corridors of the temple, he did not need light to see inside his own home.
[member="Sundara Nyveit"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

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It was rare to be confronted with such bold faced lunacy. Cedric regarded the man that claimed the title of Mythos with a neutral expression, though his mind was reeling. He understood full well that Mythos had perished along with the rest of his compatriots during the battle of Atrisia. His father had elected to take his place within the ethereal realm shortly thereafter, leaving the Dominion and all its problems in Cedric's lap. Yes, he knew of Atrisia; knew enough to understand that this was an impostor.

The lightsaber was clipped silently back to its place at his belt.

"Lord Mythos died during the battle of Atrisia. Cyril Grayson used his power to summon the force storm that ravaged this place. There's no way you can be him," the youth shifted his gaze to Sundara in the hope that she might agree with him.

Despite his words, Cedric followed after the guardian into the darkness of the ruined temple. He knew that some Sith did indeed have the ability to retain consciousness after death, but such individuals were few and far between. The knowledge required to successfully carry out such a ritual had been lost to the majority of the galaxy eons ago.

But not all of it...

[member="Mythos"], [member="Sundara Nyveit"]

 

[Sundara Nyveit]

But we're already standing. Sundara bit back the retort, self-control leaning on the side of self-preservation. The situation was hardly in their favor as it was, surely a snarky comment or two would only seal their fate. If it was only her life on the line that'd be one thing. The chance of someone else's life being affected by her choice of words stilled her tongue.

Brow raised, nose scrunching a little, all in a look of incredulity cast in Cedric's general direction. Yes, argue with the being that until very recently was threatening them both with very certain death. There was no way that could go wrong. "The reports mentioned something of that, yes, but how often are reports completely accurate?"

Keeping pace with the other two, Sundara refrained from returning her saber to its resting position quite yet. She had absolutely no doubt that this newcomer could turn on them at any moment's notice, history lesson or otherwise. The apparent lesson itself was one she was less than enthused about. It was better than dying, certainly, but Cedric had peaked her interest with the promise of training. Whether or not that was now a lost cause had yet to be determined.

[member="Mythos"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

[Mythos]

Youth... so impressionable and easily shocked. Mythos remembered when he was merely an acolyte in the One Sith beholding the Sith Knights and Lords unleash incredible power and how he hungered to do the same. His desire although twisted was paved with good intentions. That time has passed. His chuckle and smile echoed through the dark corridor still holding the ancient Atrisian torches unlit in their stone walls. "Neither of you younglings are wrong yet neither of you are entirely correct"

The last ability he learned from Kezeroths holocrn helped him now. His right hand ignited in yellow fire and with a blow from his lips, sith magic helped the flame streak through the torches lightning their way to the main throne room. Or what remained of it.

While he walked he continued talking but the worry and fear of the female was very amusing. "If i wanted to kill you young lady you would be dead before you ever saw me but if the lightsaber makes you feel safer by all means. Don't grip the handle with your center palm... Hold it loosely with your fingers, it's the way of Juyo." He said as the throne room opened up to them, it was the same words he had told his son in Midvinter when training... as he said the words his memory came back to him. The scent of death and the oppression of power was strongest here in the throne room, this was where the Storm was born... This was where he died.

He extended his hand and gestured to the cracked stone of the throne room. "That is where I died young man." He picked up a stone from below his boot by kicking it and brought to chest level of the young one before him. "The storm did not destroy this place." He twisted the stone in his hands while he spoke to show the burnt oil of a particular form of explosives. "Mandalorian explosives did. Courtesy of Draco Veeren, hired and employed by the galactic Alliance. The storm me and my brother Cyril created was made to protect Atrisia, shield it from the enemies above. Pratorias, Me, Cyril, Vulcanus... just to name a few"

It was then his own lightsaber ignited but it did so to break the cloak that covered his upper body. They would see and sense it now. The Sith runes that were carved upon his chest were just a portion of what was carved in his body. "These runes make this body capable of holding inside the essence of my spirit, I returned from the grave because my people, my brother and This world deserve justice."

[member="Sundara Nyveit"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

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An uncomfortable silence fell over the trio as Mythos revealed his true identity. Cedric regarded the fallen Sith Lord skeptically, though he opted to hold his tongue from giving word to any of his doubts. It was unwise to challenge the Sith Lord at his seat of power, even if he had faded into the empyrean once before already. Cedric was confident that he could dispatch the Sith with Sundara's help if required, though such an outcome was detrimental to their reason for coming here.

The two Jedi had not come here to hunt down lost Sith Lords, but rather to learn to face them. Adopting that mindset, the Jedi Knight physically relaxed, his shoulder slumping as he almost seemed to uncoil from the offensive posture he'd adopted.

"Cyril Grayson was my father, and what he did here was...controversial," Cedric's brow furrowed. "The alliance is a different beast these days. I have forgiven them for what they did to my family to better serve the greater good; we don't mean you any harm. So long as you keep from being violent, we'll not mention you to our compatriots."

He flashed Mythos a well meaning smile, one that curved up toward Sundara as he turned to the Devaronian. "I had to face this place, and I needed someone I could trust with me. Sundara and I came here to learn how to better resist the dark side's corrupting pull."

He paused.

"How did you return? That should be impossible."

[member="Mythos"], [member="Sundara Nyveit"]

 

[Sundara Nyveit]

If Sundara's eyebrows could move any further they'd have grown legs and walked off on their own. "Young? Have you looked at yourself?" Forgot being nice to the man that could kill them in an instant. Ridiculous powers aside, he hardly looked to be in a position to be referring to either of them as younglings. Why that of all things irked the Devaronian, that was another question entirely. Still, almost subconsciously, her grip on the saber's hilt adjusted slightly, heeding the Sith's instruction.

Whether or not she believed anything of Mythos' story was something Sundara gave no indication of. Face a mask of neutrality, wandering eyes took in the sights of the ruined structures while the Sith went on with his tale. The list of names was just that to her, names with no faces, people whom she'd never crossed paths with let alone had heard of, at least not as individuals. She could only imagine what exactly had transpired in this place so desolated. Lost to her own imagination just trying to fathom it all, it was Cedric's comment that brought her back to the present.

"Unfortunately, with the galaxy's current state, we can't afford to learn much else."

The tell-tale sound of a lightsaber's activation had the knight reeling back, putting more distance between herself and the Sith until she realized the intention behind it. Physically relaxing a fraction, she still remained poised to react the moment his intent turned malicious, less in the physical sense and more so prepared to strike out in the force. That was, after all, where the majority of her formal training had focussed.

[member="Mythos"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

[Mythos]

Mythos shut off his lightsaber as soon as he ignited it but the reaction of the female brought a smile to his face. For some reason the duo of jedi reminded him of his own flesh ad blood Adas James. Perhaps it was his longing for his son to be here, perhaps it was the regret of what he needed to do... perhaps he was really just insane. The thought was not lost on him, if insanity was what drove him for justice, for vengeance, to pay back the Alliance for what they did to his people then he did not want to be sane.

Everything seemed normal to him, another day in the presence of those who judged him for his eyes and power and not for his actions. That was until [member="Cedric Grayson"] revealed his true identity as the son of Cyril. The Son of Mephirium was standing right before Mythos, a son he had presumed dead after the incidents on Ession.

Mythos stood there, eyes open in shock, his mind was racing, trying to put together what he had just heard. His lightsaber clanged on the ground as the distinct sound of songsteel and stone echoed through the hall. Everything else they just said he heard like a million miles away, nothing registered. When there was silence he blinked several times before bringing his hand up shakily to chest level. "I... I'm sorry but"

He took small steps forward, head shaking and his hand moving slowly to Cedric's forehead. "May I see?... I-I must see for myself please..."

[member="Sundara Nyveit"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]​