Kaylum noted the two guards before inspecting the crumpled form in the cell. He wasn’t too different from the last time Kaylum visited him. His soul was withered and blackening, reflecting the physical and mental trauma he was inflicted with and the curse that still had a hold on him. Kaylum stared, saddened but unsurprised. He reached out, wanting to hold that little ball of shifting, dimming light, to smooth it over and comfort it, but hesitated. Messing with someone’s soul was dangerous business, and he didn’t trust himself with such a power, if he even had it. So, he spoke to it instead. His unheard whispers attempted to be of comfort, assuring of his safety and that he and his friends would rescue him soon. Just wait a little longer. Soon this suffering will pass.
Kaylum slowed, and tried to regain his vision of the material world. He noted the state of Nik’s body, the wounds, the breathing, his position, then made his way back to his body.
He opened his eyes, though now he was much more tired. He slowly sat up, peering over at Nik’s guards.