Chapter Text
The most recent incident. She witnesses it in third person - seeing Emet-Selch, hooded head bowed low, seated next to a white-robed figure. They're on a bench in the rooftop gardens in Ala Mhigo. It's night time.
"I cannot see him at all," Emet-Selch says. "...I am... sorry."
"Then it must be as it appears," the other man says. His voice is soft. "He must truly be gone."
"But how?" Emet's temper flares, and he turns to face his companion. Alisaie sees real emotion on his face. He looks on the verge of tears. "He can't-- He can't be gone! Just vanished! Souls don't vanish, Elidibus, they're taken or remoulded or merged-- he cannot be gone--"
"He can be gone beyond your vision just as readily as he can be gone beyond mine," Elidibus says calmly. He rests a hand on Emet-Selch's lower back and the other man sags, putting his head in his hands. "...Think how long it took us to find Fandaniel, for instance. Would it not have taken us similar time to find Lahabrea, were we to look for him now, compared to how he was before the Sundering?"
"You're right," Emet-Selch admits, muffled. "...Elidibus... how long has he been gone from us, right before our eyes?"
"Longer than you know."
Elidibus leans in and takes down Emet-Selch's hood. He wears the guise of Solus. He closes his eyes in acceptance; Elidibus leans up and kisses the top of his head. It's a tender, loving gesture. A wave of aether pulses over Emet-Selch - and Alisaie recognises her own magic, undoing it, just as soon as it's done. That, presumably, was not part of the original memory.
Side-on, something seems to catch Emet-Selch's eye. He turns, alarmed at the intruder - looking directly into Alisaie's eye.