Joshua let's the Curator's words sink in, accepting them with a silent nod. One more person he's disappointed; one more wizard who's respect he'd never gain back without a fight. His gaze falls to the floor as people begin to leave. He grits his at each unhelpful, snarky comment from the deserters--but he doesn't stop them. There's a sense that the room has reached a breaking point and turning on them, trying to force some form from the chaos, would only hasten their fall. Some fools need sense smacked into them, but Joshua lets them go without challenge.
Too little, too late. And Tyria's words to the new Mystagogues just serves to underscore that. Something unpleasant tightens inside, which he tries to ignore.
There's only one thing left to say; he moves towards where Ahriman leans against the wall, gestures to Ariadne. "The Herald says she may be able to find them through the dog's blood. Liaise with her, please. See if you can find where they are." One absent-minded hand pats at his pocket and the ring inside.
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