That answer seems to placate Boris, who gives his nephew a relieved smile before pulling him into a quick, but tight embrace. "Yer not alone in this, Carlisle," he says quietly, his breath visible in the cold air of the night. "Me and Benistad -- we're here for you, so don't take it all on yourself."

Words that would be true, for a time, and ones Carlisle took to heart; the disappearance of his uncles affected Carlisle so profoundly that he must have. Releasing Glacius, Boris straightens up, turning his eyes to the night sky once more before he starts heading for the house, waiting for Carlisle to follow. Though the rest of the world around them is somewhat blurry, faded by the frailty of memory, the estate behind them is crisp, every detail memorized from the years the clergyman spent isolated there.