Inside the mahogany, dark burgundy bedroom, Yoru stares intently at the heavy, ornamented oak doors. He wonders if Anwar is truly stupid or if he is just pretending to be in thinking that his seals are undetectable to the people inside. Though he has lost his divine power, Yoru has a keen sense for magic and spells. He can sniff out the lightest scent of the smallest curse anywhere. It has always been a special talent of his, one amongst many that his predecessor valued and treasured in him when he was chosen to take on the duty of a Supreme Deity. He sighs wearily. It matters nothing now, as he has no power left to destroy the seals or break Anwar's spells. All he can do is sit here next to a nearly fainting Yuriel, trying to make the deity's suffering less exhausting and more tolerable.
"Don't worry, my child, they are alright." Yuriel pats the back of Yoru's hands, comforting the visibly upset ex-deity who's anxiously glancing back and forth between Yuriel and the doors.
