featherfoot | PSL - Felih and Rihnn go to the First...

“To say the least,” P’rihnn agrees. He would very much like to do more than simply ‘discuss’ things with this Exarch. Demand to know what he has done to the Scions, and then perhaps punch him in the face. Or maybe the other way around, depending. Still, it seems unlikely he will have access to the mysterious leader’s face any time soon... disappointing, but he still hits a fist into his palm. The gesture earns him a deep scowl from the guard.

“That is assuming he would grant you an audience, which under normal circumstances is highly unlikely. Given that he was seemingly aware of your impending arrival, however, you might not be entirely out of luck.”

“Oh, good. I have questions.”

“There is no guarantee they will be answered,” the guard says, but as she speaks another uniformed guard runs across the bridge and offers her a salute.

“Captain!” he says. “The Exarch requests that I relieve you, and bring his guests to the Tower.”

“Still, it seems that you are in luck,” the guard captain acknolwedges. “If all is well, then, I shall return to your post. You two will mind your conduct while you are here.” She gives P’rihnn a look that says she somehow thinks he is the more troublesome of the two, even though he’s sure he’s been quiet by his standards, before turning and allowing the second guard to walk them towards the Tower.

“This is exceptionally strange,” P’rihnn says to his new companion. “If we are truly in another realm, there shouldn’t be anyone to control the Tower... I’m more familiar with it than most, so trust me - not just anyone can get inside.”

Edited 2020-11-01 07:35 (UTC)

Felih watches P'rihnn's movements with a hint of amusement, though he knows for sure he'll be stopping the other Tia from throwing any punches at this mysterious man- at least until Felih can gauge if he actually deserves to be punched.

As the new guard begins to lead them along, Felih's ears perk up towards P'rihnn.

"You are...? Then- then... well, the captain there did say that the Tower simply appeared one day. Meaning it could have come from our realm, somehow," he murmurs, still thinking aloud. "But if that were the case... there- there is someone..." He trails off, voice faltering as his anxieties come right back to what happened to Raha?

"Ah- that aside... how is it that you've come to be familiar with the Tower, so?" Felih asks after a moment, curious.

“Hm...”

The Tower looks exactly like the one in Mor Dhona, so P’rihnn’s thoughts were on the same wavelength, especially after the Captain mentioned that it had simply appeared here through magic. The last time he checked, it was still in Mor Dhona, so it made no sense for it to have been here for a hundred years. Perhaps it is a copy, somehow?

“I explored it some time ago, with some friends of mine,” P’rihnn explains. “Another long story best told another time... but after I left, it was sealed, by the one person able to command it.” And with that, he gives Felih a curious look, because he couldn’t possibly know about G’raha Tia. Maybe if he was one of the Sons of Saint Coinach, but he’s sure he would have remembered him - he tends to notice when he meets other Tia, with them being far and few between. “Didn’t even give me warning, the bastard. When I see him again I’m going to pull his tail.”

Felih pauses, stunned for a moment as the implications of P'rihnn's words kick in, and he gives voice to the same thing the other Tia is thinking.

"But you- I do not recall seeing you among the Sons of Saint Coinach," he says. "Were you with them during the expedition? I- R- G'raha, he... he went away with hardly any warning, and we couldn't convince him not to seal himself away," he murmurs.

"Were you a friend of his?"

“A friend, yes.” It had been quite nice, really, to have another miqo’te around his own age that he could call a friend... not that he did call him a friend to his face, but the sentiment was there. Still, he pauses, hesitating on their path for a brief moment as they draw closer to the tower. “But I was wondering the same of you. For one, you look like you wouldn’t wear those popoto-sack robes if they paid you. For two, I remember meeting other Tia - I’d’ve seen your face! Not to mention you’d’ve recognised me.”

Felih blinks at the other Tia, baffled, before huffing.

"Well, you're right about all of that, popoto-sack bit included. Those things would look horrid on me," he mumbles, giving a swish of his hips to better highlight how his current attire is far more flattering and flowy. "I... nn."

He sidles up closer to P'rihnn, murmuring quietly, and Holly immediately reaches out to curiously poke the other Tia.

"...Holly says our aether signatures resonate. That shouldn't be possible, unless theoretically, we were the same person. If I had more of Severian's strange concoction, I could test something for myself..." The last bit is muttered more to himself than anything, though.

The alchemist guildmaster? P’rihnn’s ears tilt back a little, confused, as he wonders what strange concoction Felih might be talking about... not to mention what resonating aether signatures could possibly mean.

“You don’t strike me as being particularly similar to me. I’m not half as fancy.”

Still, it’s strange that he remembers the Crystal Tower and G’raha Tia seemingly as well as he does. What if it’s not the only thing?

“What are you thinking?”

Felih hums softly.

"I'm... not sure just yet. Speaking to this Exarch may answer our questions, but... there is much I do not yet know."

The nature of souls would not become known to him for a while yet, and even then, the idea of sharing souls with another...

"Supposedly, the color of one's aether signature is unique to each person. So for us to have the same kind would be unprecedented indeed... At least according to Severian."

It sounds many kinds of ridiculous to him - the idea that they might have similar enough souls to be indistinguishable to that overgrown butterfly. There is still surely something behind it, though, and P'rihnn is not quite dumb enough to deny that, and so he makes a small sound of acknowledgement as they approach the stairs leading to the Tower.

"On the plus side, there's no Labyrinth to fight through," he says, as the guard turns to them.

"Once the doors open, I can go no further. Simply follow the path and it will lead you to the Ocular, where the Exarch will speak with you."

"In person?" P'rihnn asks, ears perking up a little in surprise. He had started to get the impression the 'Exarch' was such a hermit that they wouldn't get the chance.

The guard, however, shakes his head. "I can't say. Most people who meet with him say he speaks to them through technology. I don't know anyone who has seen his face."

Felih's ears perk up.

"Well, there's a chance we'll meet him one way or another," he chirps, trying to be optimistic, as he starts to walk through the tower and along the path. "Thank the Twelve we don't need to go through that Labyrinth again... it's much nicer to walk straight to the front door."

As he walks, he looks around the Tower, curious, trying to get a feel of it. It feels different than before, but that's to be expected if it's been active here for a century.

"And darling, please try to hold off on actually punching the Exarch," Felih chides in amusement. "It's better to save judgement for after we sort out what kind of person he is."

"He's not good news," P'rihnn is quick to argue, and he scowls at Felih, clearly unimpressed by his amused tone... or perhaps being addressed as 'darling'. He rather wishes he was wearing boots rather than sandals right now, as sandals simply are not made for angry stomping as he stalks his way along the path. "Thanks to his 'summons', my friends dropped one by one - their souls ripped out. If you saw them, you would think they were dead."

So if he sees him, he is absolutely going to punch him, even if Felih tells him not to!

"Whatever his reason is, he needs to talk fast."

"Wait- he's done what?" Felih asks, stopping dead in his tracks as he looks at P'rihnn in shock. "He- he tore their souls out? But why- how?" His eyes are wide, his tail bristling. This sounds bad. This sounds very, very bad...

"You heard me. And to top it off, I don't know what he's done to me! Called in the middle of a battle... I could be dead, for all I know!"

And his soul, trapped here... he's not exactly familiar with how this 'calling' business works, or whether the soul can survive if the body is dead, but based on what happened to the Scions he can assume. Still... the voice he heard this time was not quite the same voice he heard before.

"As for how, I don't care. I need to know what he's done with them, and make him fix it!"

Felih's ears pin back, and then he begins his march anew, determined and bristling.

"We need to have a talk with him indeed," he mutters, tail lashing behind him as he stalks up the staircase, until he finally reaches what he assumes must be the Ocular. He knocks at the door firmly, calling out.

"Exarch! Are you in there? We've questions for you."

Without any warning, the door swings open on its own, an unspoken invitation for the two to enter. Fists clenched and tail lashing, P'rihnn stalks forward, ahead of Felih, eyes trained on the lone shadowy figure that awaits them. "So you have deigned to show yourself," P'rihnn growls. "I got the impression you were more inclined to hide!"

The figure - presumably the Exarch - simply observes him and remains silent, which only makes P'rihnn bristle more.

"Well? What do you have to say?!"

The Exarch tilts his head, and raises a hand to his chin as though considering. He is quite a small man, P'rihnn notes, and to say he looks fragile would be an understatement. Even if it weren't for the fact he looks like he could use a good meal, he looks as though he is half made of crystal... or more. What he can see of the man's face is crystal. His arms are both crystal. One leg, crystal. Beneath the hood that conceals his face juts a solid-looking horn that, at a guess, is almost certainly also crystal. There are even little shards sparkling in the loose white hair that strays out from beneath the hood...

All in all, it makes P'rihnn a little less inclined to punch him, for he looks as though he might break.

Finally, the Exarch deigns to speak, voice quiet and raspy.

"...so it seems you truly do possess the same aetheric signature. Remarkable..." It makes P'rihnn's ears twitch, as it sounds almost as though this works into whatever plan he has in mind, and it puts him on edge. "My summons were meant for Felih Tia alone. Quite why you were caught up in them, I do not know, and so I can only apologise." He gives a small, apologetic bow, but P'rihnn can't help but growl.

"You mean to tell me it was an accident?! Like hell am I going to believe that! The Scions could die because of you!"

"The... scions?" There's a pause, before he shakes his head. "Not because of me, I assure you."

The Exarch's apparent calm apparently does little to reassure P'rihnn, who takes a step forward as if to strike him, only to leap back again with a yelp as he walks right into some manner of energy shield.

"Coward!" he snaps.

The Exarch simply shakes his head, and turns to Felih. "My thanks for answering my summons."

Felih's ears pin back, and he steps forward more warily, reaching out to test the barrier with a hand.

"If you meant to summon me- then what of P'rihnn? What of his friends- wait, Scions?" Felih's attention suddenly snaps to P'rihnn as the words sink in. "You're friends with the Scions? But I've never- the Scions I know are perfectly fine!"

He's confused, ears pinned back before he turns his attention back to the figure made so much of crystal. The voice is so weak, so faint...

"Are you- are you well, Exarch?" he asks after a moment. "You don't... seem to be. And- what are we- that- augh..." A deep breath. "How did you come to possess this Tower? It should belong to another."

"Of course I know the Scions!" P'rihnn snaps at Felih, not so much out of irritation towards the other Tia but out of more general frustration. "Who do you think I am? You must have at least heard my name!"

The barrier hums with energy, but while it repels contact with the same amount of force, it is not painful to touch. P'rihnn simply hadn't expected it, and now he knows it's there he has settled on glaring at the Exarch.

For his part, the Exarch is quiet, again carefully considering his answer, though P'rihnn is starting to suspect speaking is not an easy task for him.

"...is that so?" The Exarch apparently ignores most of Felih's questions. "I fear I truly do not know how P'rihnn came to be here. Most especially as I know your friends to be safe and well, as you say yourself."

P'rihnn can't see the Exarch's eyes, but he can feel them on him, watching him carefully.

"This is only a theory, but I believe you may be here as a result of you both bearing an identical aetheric signature... it is almost as if you are the same person, on some level. Perhaps when we are done here, you ought to become better acquainted with one another?"

"No, I've never heard your name," Felih replies, looking baffled, before sighing. "The way you speak, 'tis as if you are... like me. A Warrior of Light, but perhaps from some other realm...?" he murmurs, all while Holly curiously continues to observe the conversation. She clearly feels a bit vindicated about having her suspicions confirmed by the Exarch, because she makes a grand, frustrated gesture before flopping over along Felih's shoulder.

"...you didn't answer all my questions," he says next, turning his gaze back to the Exarch. The voice is so soft and weak, but somehow, it's faintly familiar...

Never? Really? But he's famous! It's not as if he particularly wants to be as well-known as he is, but even if Felih didn't recognise him by appearance he at least expected him to know his name. At Felih's suggestion, however, he mumbles a quiet "hm" and looks away to consider the idea.

The Exarch gives Felih a small smile, and shakes his head.

"We are not here to talk about me," he says. "I have called you here to ask for your aid."

There is a loud scoff from P'rihnn, who is clearly unimpressed that this man has put him through a lot of grief only to ask for help.

"Well, I'm here to talk about you, and I'm not helping unless you give me answers," Felih says, stubbornly, tail lashing. "This tower belongs to G'raha Tia. Where is he? How did you come to control this place?"

P'rihnn's irritation is quite understandable, and even Felih is feeling miffed about being yanked out of his world to this strange place...

"And you don't sound or look well. You even shield yourself like this- as if fearing our touch. Is your constitution truly so weak? I'm a healer, I might... be able to help," he offers, still incredibly intrigued by the crystalline body he sees before him.

Again, the Exarch is quiet for a long time before he speaks, and even then it seems he only answers after P'rihnn prompts him with a demanding "well?!"

"I am sworn to not tell the means by which I command the tower," he says, though there is an edge to his voice. It seems he does not like being pressed on the matter. "I'm not familiar with 'G'raha Tia', but... if you speak of the boy who once slumbered here, I fear he has long since passed on."

Wait... what? P'rihnn stiffens, and his ears flatten back. He had been happy to simply assume that the Tower was either unconnected to the one he knew, or else from some other point in time - after all, he could still see it in Mor Dhona, G'raha Tia surely sleeping well within! For him to have died...

"That can't be right!" he argues, his voice pitching a little higher and losing its gruff edge.

The Exarch looks to the floor for a moment. "There is some significant temporal discrepancy between the Source and the First... furthermore, whoever might have told you the Tower has been here for only a hundred years, I'm afraid they are quite incorrect. It is in truth closer to a thousand." He looks up again, hidden gaze now lingering on Felih. "Many, many years past a Mystel's natural lifespan."

The heartbreak is clear on Felih's face, shocked silence giving way to tears that roll down his cheeks.

"No- no! That's not- that's not possible! With how he spoke- he- he made it seem as if he would be- he should have been in stasis, Allagan technology makes it easy to keep him safe and sound, I- unless he awoke- but when? No- no! I never- he never..."

His voice is shaking, his thoughts and words incoherent and scrambled as his ears pin back against his hair, eyes wide. "He cannot- he can't... be..." His fingers are trembling against the barrier, heart aching and twisting in his chest, the heartbreak striking him hard in the throat.

"Felih?" It's P'rihnn's voice calling him, and though they scarcely know each other still he reaches to rest a hand on Felih's shoulder. "Felih, it's - well, it's not okay, but... hey. Don't cry here." He can't be showing such vulnerability to someone who might yet prove to be an enemy.

The Exarch's lingering gaze drops, and he turns his head away as if he doesn't want to see it.

"...I..."

What is that strange tone to his voice? It's so hard to make out any of his meaning in that weak, raspy voice he has, but that tone mixed with his hesitation means something, P'rihnn is sure.

"I speak of events long ago," he continues. "The details, I simply do not know."

"You don't- you don't know?!" Felih's voice raises and then breaks, and he falls to his knees, hands balling into fists against the barrier. "The last of his bloodline- the key to this tower- the seed of hope for the future- you couldn't even honor his memory? You couldn't- you couldn't learn of him, record him, preserve his legacy- after all he sacrificed?" Even as tears roll down his cheeks, the agony is mixing with anger, choking on some of his words. Holly is fretting and anxiously fluttering about the two Warriors of Light, looking helpless. "Did you even know his name before I uttered it?!"

P'rihnn's touch and words are what bring him out of his rush of passion, and it makes him flinch- but he sucks in a deep breath and grits his teeth. His head bows and he falls silent, trying to get himself together.

"Do you recall the events of a thousand years ago, as clearly as you would if you were there?" the Exarch counters, and despite the clear logic to it - was Felih assuming the Exarch had somehow lived all those thousand years? - still P'rihnn finds himself glaring at the man with bared teeth, his measured and careful answers infuriating, and his grip on Felih's shoulders tighten. "I cannot learn from records that do not exist."

"So basically, don't blame you," P'rihnn spits, his grip on Felih's shoulder tightening. "Aren't you helpful?"

Gods, he wishes he could read the man's expression. All he can see is the way his crystal lips form into another smile.

"...oh, I can possibly be helpful. 'G'rana Tia' still slumbers in your time, does he not? I can help you wake him... I have, after all, brought you here with the intention of defying fate."

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