I am, Glacius replies, the gears churning rapidly in his mind as he tries to figure out how to fix this. Clearly this has something to do with Carlisle's curse if the way he grips at the scars across his abdomen are any indication, and yet it is now manifesting differently than it ever has before. Normally simply talking to the cleric is enough to anchor him, but this isn't a simple case of him losing his tongue or being bent to his own panicked compulsions; it's as though his partner's true self is adrift elsewhere, and something else has taken over his body and mind...
Something ticks over in Glacius' mind just then. Minds, anchors... hadn't Carlisle told him a time or two about his nightmares? About how he wanders that other plane where twice-cursed are damned to end up? Is that where his partner's soul has gone now, leaving room for something else to anime his now empty shell of a body? This might seem impossible to combat for another human, but not for an alien whose powers aren't entirely bound to the physical realm. His people do have a way of linking mind to mind, in a way even more direct than their subconscious conversations via the Mote. There's no guarantee that things will work entirely the same given that Carlisle is a human—and honestly, that difference between them is the primary reason this hadn't occurred to Glacius months before—but he should be able to walk into that dream and see just what it is that is holding Carlisle back.
The alien's expression firms as he settles Carlisle on the bed once more, under the sheets to keep him from moving around too much. It would surely seem intimidating to some to consider venturing into an accursed land, to risk whatever darkness or corruption might lurk there that is currently plaguing his one's very own partner... and yet Glacius feels better with a course of action in mind that he can take, something he can actually do rather than simply watching helplessly as this specter parades around in his lover's skin.
The big alien settles on the bed right besides Carlisle, touching their foreheads together carefully. At first he seeks his partner's hand, first... but then, thinking better of it, retracts the ice from his fingertips before slipping them between the folds of the cleric's robe to press against those ghastly black scars. He might be searching for metaphysical channels, but he's also seeking the heart of the cleric's curse... and as far as he knows, both reside in those old fissures.
But I believe that I could be... closer, Glacius finishes speaking as he closes his eyes, preparing to plunge into darkness—not knowing what to expect, but ready to brave it to bring his partner back.
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Something ticks over in Glacius' mind just then. Minds, anchors... hadn't Carlisle told him a time or two about his nightmares? About how he wanders that other plane where twice-cursed are damned to end up? Is that where his partner's soul has gone now, leaving room for something else to anime his now empty shell of a body? This might seem impossible to combat for another human, but not for an alien whose powers aren't entirely bound to the physical realm. His people do have a way of linking mind to mind, in a way even more direct than their subconscious conversations via the Mote. There's no guarantee that things will work entirely the same given that Carlisle is a human—and honestly, that difference between them is the primary reason this hadn't occurred to Glacius months before—but he should be able to walk into that dream and see just what it is that is holding Carlisle back.
The alien's expression firms as he settles Carlisle on the bed once more, under the sheets to keep him from moving around too much. It would surely seem intimidating to some to consider venturing into an accursed land, to risk whatever darkness or corruption might lurk there that is currently plaguing his one's very own partner... and yet Glacius feels better with a course of action in mind that he can take, something he can actually do rather than simply watching helplessly as this specter parades around in his lover's skin.
The big alien settles on the bed right besides Carlisle, touching their foreheads together carefully. At first he seeks his partner's hand, first... but then, thinking better of it, retracts the ice from his fingertips before slipping them between the folds of the cleric's robe to press against those ghastly black scars. He might be searching for metaphysical channels, but he's also seeking the heart of the cleric's curse... and as far as he knows, both reside in those old fissures.
But I believe that I could be... closer, Glacius finishes speaking as he closes his eyes, preparing to plunge into darkness—not knowing what to expect, but ready to brave it to bring his partner back.