[ Bariyan listens, the way that he listens to Martin -- silent, attentive, considering. He rarely listens so closely. Always distracted by his own thoughts, always too busy forming opinions halfway through someone else's words, always preoccupied by his own, eternal anger. And so it'd been with Koltira, too. Until this moment.

It helps that he's still sober, too.

In a low voice, the first thing: ]

I didn't realize that you were so unhappy with me.

[ He says it as if from very far away, a line crinkling between his brows. Confusion, maybe disbelief. But then Bariyan comes back in full, and he twists his mouth into a smile, sad, resigned, and cold. ]

Death changed me, Koltira. [ Both deaths. ] You of all people should understand. That wall you speak of, it separates me from what I was before, and it probably always will--

[ He stops, looks away. He's leaning forwards over the table again, one hand resting against his forehead. ]

I'm not asking you to scale it. I can't scale it. I'm-- [ He laughs, shortly. ] No. I'm not asking anything of you at all. You've done more than enough to prove yourself.

[ Walls. Koltira's right. There's but one door through to Bariyan's heart right now, and it lies in the medallion around his neck, in Martin's presence and Martin's voice. And to everyone else, he can present only stone. Including himself.

He mulls over Koltira's words again, and the exhaustion in the other man's voice. Maybe it's not worth it. There'll be other people, there are other people who care for Koltira, who aren't quite as frustrating as Bariyan. But... but it never does anyone good to see someone give up on them. He supposes he has to try.

Bariyan sighs. He clasps both hands in front of his face, looking down at the table. ]

What would you ask me to do? Bring down my walls?