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

"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."

It's just as Felih is beginning to calm down that the Exarch says Raha's name wrong, and it makes the anger in him flare right back up.

"G'raha Tia! His name is G'raha!" he cries out, shaking with emotion he can hardly contain- and then the Exarch makes such a strange promise.

"What- you... how can you have the power to do that? He- he only wished to wake when- when the world was ready for the Tower's power..." he murmurs faintly. "I cannot... I cannot wake him before he sees the future he so badly wanted to greet with his own eyes."

P'rihnn nods his agreement, again squeezing Felih's shoulder in an effort to calm him as his temper flares. He has to focus on Felih, else he will lose his temper himself... and when his temper snaps, it is a lot more violent.

The Exarch's soft smile fades, and he taps his staff against the ground as if thinking. "...G'raha, then. My apologies, I must have misheard you... I am half deaf, you see." He raises a hand to where the horny protrusion lies beneath his hood, before realising what he's doing and lowering his hand. "Still, I believe he might not wish to see the future if he knew what lies ahead."

He takes a few steps closer to the barrier, and crouches down to where Felih still sits on the floor.

"Now, might I explain why you are here?" he asks.

Felih's eyes are still filled with tears, but they widen slightly as the Exarch gestures to the "horn," realizing it's not a horn at all. It's an ear.

"You're- you're Miqo'te," he breathes softly. It startles him, and he swallows hard, grounded only by the grip of P'rihnn's hand on his shoulder. It helps keep him steady, though he makes no effort to stand back up just yet.

"...fine. But you have to tell us what's happening to your body," he murmurs.

“Miqo- ah, your name for mystel,” the Exarch says. “...does that surprise you?”

As he straightens himself back up, heavily leaning on his staff to do so, he appears to give some thought to Felih’s demand. “In time, perhaps. P’rihnn can tell it’s mostly to placate them rather than a promise. Fine with him, honestly - it seems like Felih wants to heal him, and quite frankly P’rihnn doesn’t care. Maybe he’ll change his mind later, but he doesn’t think so. He lifts his hand from Felih’s shoulder, and holds it out to help him up.

“Let me guess,” P’rihnn says. “Go and fight the dangerous thing that threatens life as we know it. That sounds about right to me. You, Felih?”

...was that a laugh, from the Exarch? Just a small one? P’rihnn’s ears twitch, and he frowns.

“I imagine, with lives such as yours, that is what you have come to expect. You wouldn’t be wrong, though the stakes are perhaps a bit higher than you are accustomed to.”

"I just- Raha was... Miqo'te, too," Felih murmurs weakly, before slowly coming to his feet, taking P'rihnn's offered hand. He has to use his other hand to try and wipe the tears from his eyes and cheeks, trying to calm the rush of emotions inside him, and his fluffy tail is tucking between his legs.

"...that sounds about right," he eventually agrees with the other Warrior, despondent and heartbroken. Here he is, torn away from his home and loved ones, left in a strange world where he's greeted with the knowledge that something went wrong with the Tower. It's not supposed to be here. It's not supposed to be in this place, and not without Raha in it...

"...out with it, then," is Felih's quiet nudge for information.

“Was he, now?” the Exarch asks, and though P’rihnn assumes the mild surprise in his voice is feigned simply to be polite, he goes on. “In truth, I would like to learn more about those who once resided here, so I hope one day I can hear more of your friend. Alas, for the moment, ‘tis not the past that concerns me.”

He looks up for a moment, again composing his thoughts - an annoying habit, P’rihnn decides - before he explains.

“I shall attempt to be brief, for the moment. The Source faces a great Calamity, far greater than any of those which came before. I know this to be true for you, Felih... perhaps for P’rihnn as well, if your reflections are as closely mirrored as I suspect. I seek to prevent this Calamity from coming to pass... for in doing so, my people, here on the First, will also be saved.”

He bows his head, and raises his hand to his chest, falling quiet again for a long moment. Thinking he had finished talking, P’rihnn opens his mouth to say something, only to fall quiet as it turns out that no, he wasn’t finished yet.

“If I have your interest, I will gladly elaborate.”

"...if both worlds are in danger, then we've no choice, do we?" Felih murmurs quietly, ears still low. This is not a good day, he's stressed, he's far from home, this stranger wounding him with knowledge he's not sure he should have known.

"But how do we know we can trust you? That what you say is true?"

The Exarch simply smiles again, and again takes long enough to reply that P'rihnn just snaps: "Get on with it!!" He can't tell what the Exarch's reaction is, face hidden beneath his cowl as it is, but he likes to imagine he's annoyed. P'rihnn can't help feeling like this is someone he wants to see angry - it would surely be more revealing of his character than this worryingly calm and careful figure.

At least he can feel a look directed his way.

"Perhaps the details would be best learned from others," the Exarch says. "They know nothing of the Source or the First, and so I ask you not to speak of other worlds with them... but you can certainly learn more of Norvrandt.

"Once you leave the Tower and begin to acquaint yourself with the Crystarium and her people, might I suggest visiting the Cabinet of Curiosity? It is a fine library, and I am certain our librarian will be able to find what you need. Learn more of the Flood of Light, and you will begin to understand."

Flood of Light... that sounds familiar. And if this is the First, then... oh.

If Felih is supposed to be some reflection of him, with similar experiences, then it should be familiar to him too... he glances in Felih's direction, and silently mouths a name: Minfilia?

Felih still seems shaken and disheartened, but he nonetheless meets P'rihnn's gaze and nods. It sounds just like what the Warriors of Darkness had been talking about, years ago... a flood of light that consumed the world. That was how they had lost Minfilia...

"Fine, then. We'll go take a look around, but judging by your guard captain, folk are not likely to accept strangers like us who cannot even name a homeland they recognize. If we are to do this work you ask of us, we will need folks' cooperation." Even as he speaks, his will is clearly faint, much weighing on his mind.

"And a place to stay."

"You have already attracted some curiosity," the Exarch assures them, and his calm smile widens - sincerely or not, P'rihnn is not sure. "Simply by virtue of being my guests. Knowing you are here at my behest should be enough to warrant their cooperation, with few questions. There are a number of, shall we say, unspoken rules about prying too deeply into the Exarch's affairs."

"And why's that?" P'rihnn can't help asking - that first impression he got from the guard captain was a little difficult to shake. Did they somehow fear him? He can't say he would blame them if they did, as for all his calm and soft-spoken nature there is still something off, and it's not just the crystal.

"As for accomodation," the Exarch continues, and P'rihnn can't help but scowl as his question is brushed off, "it has already been arranged. I have requested a room be made available at the Pendants... though as I had only anticipated one guest, I fear you might need to share until another becomes available."

Edited 2020-11-02 23:35 (UTC)

Felih's tail lashes behind him, the embers of anger quick to be stoked again.

"Answer him," Felih growls, bristling as he glares through the barrier at this man. "If you are going to demand our help, steal us from our homes and loved ones- answer what we ask of you."

The Pendants, he decides, is some place he can find on his own later. But right now, this Exarch's secrecy is only serving to frustrate him more and more.

The smallest of sighs, as though the Exarch is only answering because Felih is insisting. "...I can't help the distinct feeling you would not take my answer at face value. You would do better to ask my people."

"Still not an answer," P'rihnn grumbles, and the Exarch shakes his head.

"You will soon find they treat me as they do out of respect alone, and not, as I'm sure you are thinking, out of any fear of retribution should they put a foot wrong. The people of the Crystarium are, and will remain, a free people." Though his tone does not change, something in his posture stiffens, clearly quite insistent on that.

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