ORIGIN

Fahl wished he could say this second trip into the depths of Fornax was an easier one. It should have been, the first having well prepared him for the route and its perils. No ignorance to the creatures lurking in the darkness. No guardians they would presumably have to appease with mentions of their Master, now that the way to the City had been opened. But greater knowledge and less obstacles lowered the bar only so much; physical limitations still had to be taken into account, and though a diver through and through, travelling to the Black City drained his stamina to the very last drop.

At the beginning, he'd followed directly behind Imp while his teacher had been at Dragon's tail, near enough to almost be another chain link in their closely bound procession. Midway, the blue of the water long bled into black, a gap long enough to fit another iguana began to form. By the time they'd finally passed into the chamber, the main reason he hadn't lost his way miles ago was due to the flash of bioluminescence in the aquatic void.

In the wake of the others' emergence, the stir of bubbles that came after might've been swallowed by the ripples before. A few seconds more passed. Then, gasping, a broad face broke the surface. Strain was etched into his features in the form of thick pigment-leeched stripes on his hide. Eyes were blown wide, terrified, before relaxing as cool air rushed in to soothe a throat that burned though a fire never been sparked within it.

Despite possessing a water-breathing trinket himself, the silver band clad around his forelimb, nerves had prevented him from eschewing preliminary measures lest the magic not last for the entire journey. He'd held his breath until it'd been nearly spent, and as a result, he now floated in Farina's throne room, replenishing lost oxygen.

Light-headed and loose-limbed, Fahl washed upon the coral resting at the back section of the chamber more so than stepping there. Rose red seeped into his stripes while he lay, wheezing. No longer submerged, the brightness surrounding him was familiar but also overwhelming, so that when he spoke, it was with a touch of delirium.

"We're... we're here." Shoving down, he tried to propel himself to a standing position. All he succeeded in was launching himself back into collapse, body thudding into a boneless sprawl. "Dra... sssir... Imp?"

Feathers and scutes danced at the corner of his eye, far away enough that an awkward neck swivel could not keep them in view. A squint was directed at where they might be in vain.

"Y'there? Ah, gimme... gimme a moment."

Hopefully, it'd not be more than a second for him to recover. His embarrassment would be furthered with each additional one's passage.

"Mm... ffine. I'm... fine."

The assurance was directed to himself as much as it was to Imp, a mantra that, if the words were hammered enough into his consciousness, might force a wish into reality. And it would work—could work, as no fault or weakness prevented his recovery. Lungs, though enfeebled, strengthened with every breath taken. Color continued to flush his scales red, banishing the paleness that'd spread over him in the choking depths. Disoriented but relatively healthy, he'd bounce back in time, the length this would require unknown.

Fahl might've mumbled more if not for Farina's announced presence. Two words that he struggled to push from his throat might have eventually advanced to sentences of three or more, all devoted to brushing away concern and insisting on his wellness. But her clicks commanded attention. The next utterance of how "fine" he was dissipated before it could even be formed into proper speech. Eyes lifted as far as they could; his chin limited their range, having been slammed into the ground by his sprawl. Nevertheless, plenty was seen: the eel that'd turned so soon as it'd advanced that it could have been slithering in a circle and not charging straight for them, the shadow cast from the throne by the Master reposed upon it.

Dragon proved to be good fortune in a gator's shape. Without him to take the lead in addressing Farina, they might have been expelled due to the blathering mess of unorganized thought threatening to spill out of Fahl's mouth. That he'd been able to respond to her inquiries at all the last time he'd treaded these waters was miraculous. Other than Nemean, whom he despised and feared in equal parts, and Aquarian, an awe-inspiring and dramatic figure, she intimidated him to an extent nobody else could.

Slayer of the Kraken. One far above him. She could squish him in a single pincer if he ever were to overstep undefined boundaries.

The world swayed beneath him as he attempted scrabbling to his feet again. A wave of nausea hit, the speed at which he rose too fast, but he clenched eyes shut, inhaled deeply through his nose, and rode it out. Then blinking, limbs shaky, he slid forward into a bow. His head inclined by the slightest of degrees, trying to appear respectful while keeping Farina in his sight.

"Yes, your... gifts. We thank you." He remained uncertain whether this was the proper term to refer to them. Weren't gifts, well, useful? Fish finding his fins alluring and gnawable annoyed him more than helped. "They're of great use, just as eyes crafted by a true Master would be."

"Imp is... one of the most capable of my kind I know. A real survivor. A fighter. His convictions... burn as strong as his magic. Nemean sought to destroy this... yet they persist. If you assign him a task, he'll prove his worth well."

It bore repeating: without Dragon interceding on his son's behalf, who knew how drastically wrong this meeting could've gone. Whether anyone would've possessed the restraint required to know when zeal stopped furthering a cause and instead became annoying.

Not the bastion of wisdom himself, despite previous interaction with this Master, Fahl made no effort to temper Imp's words. Why would he, when every bit he agreed with? Certainly it could do with being less vulgar, but if Farina had no problems with Nemean being referred to as a shit, then fucker seemed like a far more acceptable term to use than usual. As if listening to a preacher proclaiming the gospel truth, an emphatic nod accompanied every statement said. His head was kept bent in reverence throughout—though intended for Farina, now it could've also been meant for his teacher.

Judgment passed, and a chance was given. His legs remained unsteady, but elation spurred Fahl to rise from his bow. The emotion shone in dark eyes and displayed itself in the orange and yellow that tore across flanks like wildfire. Decorum abandoned for the moment in favor of premature celebration, he flung the gaze at Imp and Dragon, mouth agape in a smile.

Whereas the eldest Gembound had questions of the task, the youngest had only more promises to heap on top of that which already was owed.

"Yes, how would we recognize her? We will bring all... the greatest, brightest, strongest especially. The best that can be found."