Blackfeather Woods like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing

It's clear to him that Taikon is hurt by it, that he doesn't understand why things need to be this way. It's all too complex to explain, all sensitive information that Zephyr is far too guarded to give so early on. His love, twisted and broken and half-shaded as it is, he gives freely — but trust is another story. Taikon has burned that bridge to ashes, and now he will never hear the stories behind the wounds that had drawn such a strong reaction from Zephyr. But this is for the best — the wounds are old, scarred over, and the wraith needs to learn to stop favoring them when the pain is long gone.
I'll always care for you, He offers softly to the retreating form, compelled to give some comfort in the face of Taikon's hurt. But he doesn't offer more than that; he has to protect himself, his own interests, or no one will. Taikon has Takiyok to protect him, to soothe him. Zephyr is left to find comfort in the Daedra, in the grand plan laid out before him — the only pillar of strength in his life. To all others, he is that pillar, carved of ice and stone, an unshakable guardian. And that will always be his role.

This is the will of Mephala, child. Bask in Her dark light.

He leaves, and heads for the tree that started him on this path.