The hand in his own feels like contentedness. Physical but not in a way he may have struggled with before Orin and confronting Bhaal. Rejecting him. Purged of unholy blood and left for dead.
Whatever whispers of violence he still hears are from decades of scars on his psyche, but they're far easier to breathe through. All of it has brought him to this point where he just... feels Enver's hand in his own. Feels the warmth and weight of it and doesn't have to wade through the visceral urge to maim or kill.
He takes a moment to just enjoy it, eyes dropping to look at their hands together before they return to Enver's face.
"My name is Kael." It's what he had surrendered when he had joined the cult, and it had been taken from him gladly. Perhaps it was Bhaal taking back what darkness he had imbued in him that uncovered that memory.
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Whatever whispers of violence he still hears are from decades of scars on his psyche, but they're far easier to breathe through. All of it has brought him to this point where he just... feels Enver's hand in his own. Feels the warmth and weight of it and doesn't have to wade through the visceral urge to maim or kill.
He takes a moment to just enjoy it, eyes dropping to look at their hands together before they return to Enver's face.
"My name is Kael." It's what he had surrendered when he had joined the cult, and it had been taken from him gladly. Perhaps it was Bhaal taking back what darkness he had imbued in him that uncovered that memory.