Veracity

Kerelas leans across the table to study Basileios' arm as it is presented, his brow knitting together in thought. He can clearly make out the teeth marks, perfectly healed in black scar tissue. Strange. He tips his gaze up to the shadow mage as he leans back in his seat, saying nothing for a long while as he nurses his smoke.

His mind reels and his head hurts. He pushes up his glasses as he rests his elbows on the table and rubs his eyes with a tired sigh. Truly, he is too old for curses.

"I was afflicted, actually," He says, "Though I locked myself in my office and had my assistant throw away the key. I-"

He pauses at the sound of the chair across from him moving, and looks up to see Basileios now standing. He has his hand on the hilt of his cane, clearly ready to draw. Kerelas recognizes every emotion etched in his scarred face- fear is the most prominent.

So he holds out a hand in waiting, slowly closing his eyes. "I understand the hazard here, Basileios, but I promise I am cleared," He speaks with sincerity, moving his hand to his heart. Truth be told, he isn't sure if that is a promise he can make. He still finds himself in times of madness- or, fighting it, anyways. There is a hunger in him now that he has never felt before, and he cannot tell if it is from the curse or corruption or his magic finally getting too strong- perhaps all three.

But despite it all, his breath his steady, his gaze clear, and he lowers his hand when it is clear the shadow mage is uninterested in joining him back at the table.

Alright, then.

Kerelas leans back again, crossing his ankle over his knee as he taps ash from the end of his cigarette. "Anyways, I am tirelessly working to gather as much information about it all as I can. I do not believe that the Archon and the Order have any of this under control, which should not be a shock to you. I should not be a shock to anyone, truly."

Kerelas pauses, takes another drag, and coughs lightly into his fist. It has been a while since he's spoken so much at one time.

"My point is, I will not rest until my colleagues and I understand what happened, and we are sure it will never happen again. I believe we are all tired of the Order trying to pull the wool over our eyes," He sighs, blinking slowly, tiredly. "And that is why I'm here. I want to ask something of you, though I understand if you decline."

It is then that Kerelas rises to his feet, taking a step towards the mage as he holds out his hand.

"Will you help me?"