ORIGIN - We Will Glow

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"Oh," Hargrave blinked, "I've seen Pride - in Orion, right?" Of course, she wasn't aware (somehow) of the stag's presence as acting leader of the Seven, or the Seven in general. She'd somehow assumed that he was simply a face plucked out of the crowd to address the whole of Gembound. (Which, if you think about it, is silly, because Pride probably introduced himself as a member of the Seven and had the gravitas to speak.) Anyways.

"Very useful - does it deflect physical damage, too?" Wide-eyed curiosity, as usual. "Any shape, hm?" Something to consider...

Fireheart willed a phosphorescent light into existence. It was blue, white-hot in the center, and yet - "it's not hot?" Here, Hargrave furrowed her brow, disbelieving. He directed it to most closer to her, and she took a few paces forwards. From about a foot away, no warmth. Extending a paw out, not quite touching, she noted that "it's not hot." An observation. "It's pretty, too." Good for lights and aesthetic appeals.

"May I ask what you were doing here ... ?" "Not rude at all," Hargrave smiled gently, then rolled her shoulders, "I'm not sure, if I'm honest. I've been wandering rather aimlessly, just observing and witnessing things, mostly. My mind seems to always lead me back here, though." It was merely an acknowledgement of some innate drive to be close to magic's source - so, she assumed.

"This cave's strange. Raheerah was taken near the Spire - and another Master was killed by the shadows. Those same shadows seem to... reside beneath it. Astraea says it is a well of Old Magic. I wouldn't touch it." (She had.) "Rock-beasts wander around here, drawn by magic and freshly-broken chrysalises, I believe and -" she paused to indicate towards a wall, "there is a tunnel leading to some... strange cavern, opened by magic. Null - my... companion? - helped to reveal it."

And that was about the sum of her Polaris knowledge.

@Fireheart

Fireheart's eyes cut toward the indicated spot--the location of the tunnel that this mysterious 'Null,' whom he'd never heard of, had helped to open. He suspected at once that it was the place Pride had mentioned, too.

"I wonder if that's the 'transcendence' cave. Pride--in Orion, yes--mentioned that, too; he said it drained his magic. He's been trying to get it back, but he thinks it left him with some... 'potential,' too," Fireheart mused, with a shrug. He didn't know what to make of that, really; he didn't know enough about it, and didn't quite understand what the stag had meant. His metaphors had been questionable, at best. "But yes, physical damage, too; anything, I think. It isn't all that powerful, but it's strong enough to be a good defense." Fireheart paused, trying for a moment to call up another, to demonstrate, but nothing happened. He took note and, tilting his head just a fraction, went over the rest of what Hargrave had said in his mind, addressing it bit by bit.

"I know little about Raheerah. I've heard stories, but I missed his... death? Though I, too, find myself drawn back here. Strange, isn't it-? It's as though the magic has some sort of pull. Or perhaps the Spire does," he added, looking off toward the towering crystalline structure. "I do wonder what, ah--'Old Magic' is? Did Astraea elaborate on that, at all?" he asked, then, looking toward Hargrave curiously. "I do not think I've met Null--oh," he added, and paced a few steps to one side. He hadn't seen it, before--possibly blocked by the rather generous fluff of Hargrave's neck--but he noticed now the icy blade at her back. He'd seen her gesture toward it prior, but now it was clearly visible to him, and he looked it over with an interested expression. "What is that?" he asked, his curiosity now piqued.

@Hargrave

Transcendence cave, hm? Hargrave gave another light shrug. She'd not been around for it, and Null was... not particularly verbal (or at all.) "I wouldn't know anything about it - but potential? I could watch for those going in and out - and pass it along to you and Pride." Quiet observation and investigation were her forte, it seemed. Removal of magic, if only to leave room for more seemed odd; I wonder if it is a natural - is that the right way? - to improve upon power? Interesting.

"Any defense is better than none," she chirped mildly, dipping her head.

"I watched his... death - but Astraea also said that he'd not died; just was taken," Hargrave turned away slightly, adding, "how one can be reduced to Oil and not be dead is beyond me." The spire, regardless, "it seems magnetic." And 'Old Magic': "he said that it was not bad, but what is 'native to the Caves.' He and Vargas - another... Master? - share it. It is stronger than what we were born with, and requires adaptation."

"What is that?"

Despite seeing Fireheart staring directly at it, Hargrave twisted over her shoulder to glance at the shortsword slung across her back. "Ah -" she woofed, beckoning magic up in the form of overly-hot breath and clutching it in her teeth. Her brief contortionist act looked very uncomfortable. Presenting it and the carvings to the wolf, the dog set it on the ground, "I don't know if it has a name; it's a sword. I - and others - killed a beast in a trial in Hydra. It's freezing-cold."

@Fireheart

Fireheart listened in brow-furrowed, attentive silence. First about the side-cave, and he offered a little shrug, to this; "Only if you want to; I doubt either of us will actively seek out knowledge on it. I am curious, but not enough to stake the place out." A gentle rolling shrug of his shoulders, then. And he listened to Hargrave talk about Raheerah--"Perhaps if he's not dead, I can try to learn directly from him, some day," he mused.

And about the Spire; about Oil. About Old Magic. "Magnetic...?" he mused quietly, aloud, and wondered at the idea that a certain magic was 'native to the Caves.' "Interesting. That implies other sorts of magic--or places where magic does not exist," he reasoned, thoughtfully.

The ice-blade at once drew his interest, and he leaned his head down to carefully sniff, without quite touching it. The bitterness of its cold had his nose almost pained, and he stepped back, blinking and trying to warm his snout with a brief burst of magicka. Heat shimmered across his nose. "It's cold," he repeated, then realized he was repeating, and blinked to Hargrave. "...er than I expected." Smooth. "A trial? And--what sort of beast?" A moment's pause, for thought; "Hydra is that--desert cave, yes? The deadly place? Why did you go in, may I ask?" he went on, his interest now strongly drawn.

@Hargrave

"It's something to do," she hummed, and turned her hopeful gaze to the ceiling, "and perhaps someday." If he is ever returned to here.

Hargrave settled onto her haunches, overly-long tail still wagging behind her; it was now just dusting. "It makes me wonder - about the magic that inhabits this cave now. There's the implication that it is different, less strong." Or less saturated in individuals. "Entire other places, without magic, though..." Fiery eyes grew distant for a moment, a wistful glint to them. She clearly considered what that might be like. It was quite literally unimaginable.

The sword was certainly cold - "it freezes to my tongue more often than I'd like to admit." Much like licking a freezing-cold pole, of course. Hargrave lifted a catlike paw, indicating towards the carvings: particularly the one of an alien beast driving the blade into a worm's body. "A worm, I think, that chewed through the snow," she murmured, "when it died, its gemstone split into a number of pieces. Others took some - I was... running to the exit."

"Hydra was covered in snow, when I went in," she corrected gently, and flicked her ears back, "I'm... not sure why I went in. There was a draw to it - the danger, I mean; but, I nearly died in there - others did. I took this." The dog indicated back towards the sword. "Returning to the tunnel sent us all into our chrysalises, and I woke up with these," she then lifted a paw, unsheathing the jagged, hook-like claws at the end.

@Fireheart

Okay, wow, he somehow hadn't noticed that--those--the paws, large fluffy snowshoes with massive hooked claws suddenly sprouting from them. The wolf took a surprised step back, blinking and examining them. "This trial, then--changed you?" he asked, curiously, eyeing the big paw.

Fireheart turned, looking to the Spire, thinking. "So beneath the Spire is older magic; and what we have now is something different? Are you certain?" he asked, curiosity in his tone. He hadn't realized her meaning, before; if it was a different magic, it implied that--"Magic must have multiple sources, then. Interesting."

He thought about this, then blinked from his reverie and turned, shaking his pelt out abruptly, like a wet dog. "I think I ought to continue on. You're welcome to come with me, as I say, though if you like I can simply come back here, some time, to visit you. Perhaps we might spar, once we are both skilled enough, hm?" he offered, with a brief smile.

@Hargrave

Hargrave tucked away the claws, and set that foot down again. She hummed distantly, "in a metaphorical and literal sense, yes." It'd taken away whatever visions of chaos and destruction plagued her (as beautiful as the more fiery of them had been...) and replaced them with that of being left alone in the cold, frostbitten and bloodied. Sure, there was a correlation to be made.

Fiery eyes glanced at the Spire, nodding, "this glows blue, but what's underneath is slick-black rock. It's... visibly different, at least, but it does make one wonder..." Was this... new sort of magic - this new sort of Spire merely surface-level? Did the Old Magic pervade every bit of what lay underneath, out of sight?

Hm.

"I think I ought to continue on."

She jolted from staring at the Spire, and looked to Fireheart abruptly, "o-oh, of course." Not to the coming with - wait, why? "I... think I'm a bit absent-minded, right now. I can... try to catch up with you, later? If I don't - sparring sounds nice." Hargrave smiled gently, politely. "Regardless, it was nice to meet you, Fireheart."

@Fireheart

He paused, for a moment.

She was agreeing that he could go, but her demeanor--staring off, 'metaphorically,' she'd said... She was troubled. That much was clear. He did not press; it wasn't his place to. He simply studied her, debating whether to ask if there were something he could do, or if he should instead leave her to her thoughts, her privacy. This was something he had little experience with, after all.

At length, he dipped his snout a little, and came to a compromise with himself. "I am... sorry, if my questions have troubled you. If there is--if you'd like to speak about it, at any point, I would be glad to listen," and for a moment he was reminded of the cameraderie of the pack, of the dogs he had known when first he'd hatched--he missed them. He had no one close; it seemed that perhaps Hargrave did not, either. But he shook his head, a little, and looked to the Spire. "I shan't press of course, though. And I think I will have a look at the Spire before I go," he added, with a brief, pleasant wag of his tail.

"It has been a pleasure to meet you too, Hargrave. I will return to visit, when I can." A dip of his head, and he waited for her dismissal; and then he padded away.

exit Fireheart, probably? @Hargrave

Troubled ... but in what sort?

Hargrave assured the wolf, "it's no problem of yours, don't worry." She smiled. "It'll pass - I'll figure it out, but..." Fiery eyes set on him, intent, warm, and as genuine as her "thank you" was.

And Fireheart was gone - and the grey hare was alone, icy blade at her feet. It'd bore witness to the later parts of the Trial, but remained silent about them. She had, too, until now; and even if she was the one that dispensed information, Hargrave realized... perhaps it'd deadened her, some. Without that surge of adrenaline that near-death gave her, she felt cold and purposeless.

But, what could she do with herself?

exit

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